August 1 Thursday – 7th day out –

We passed Ft. Laramie in the night, and on the seventh morning out we found ourselves in the Black Hills, with Laramie Peak at our elbow (apparently) looming vast and solitary – a deep, dark, rich indigo blue in hue, so portentously did the old colossus frown under his beetling brow of storm cloud. 676 miles out from St. Joseph (Ch 9, Roughing It).
Found ourselves this morning in the “Black Hills,” with “Laramie Peak,” looming up in large proportions. This peak is 60 miles from Fort Laramie, which we passed in the night. We took breakfast at “Horseshoe” station, forty miles from Fort Laramie…After dinner we climbed to the yellow pines. This afternoon passed, near La Parelle station, the little canon in which the Express rider was last night when a bullet from the Indians on the side of the road passed through his coat. …At noon we passed a Morm[on] train 33 wagons long. They were nooning [Orion RI 1993, 770].