To Platte Bridge. August 16th.

Along the Black. Hills to Box-Elder. 15th August.

I AROSE “between two days,” a little before 4 A.M., and watched the dawn, and found in its beauties a soothing influence, which acted upon stiff limbs and discontented spirit as if it had been a spell.

To Fort Laramie. 14th August.

Past the Court-house and Scott’s Bluffs. August 13th.

12th August. We cross the Platte.

To the Forks of the Platte. 11th August.

Precisely at 1 35 in the morning we awoke, as we came to a halt at Cotton-wood Station. Cramped with a four days’ and four nights’ ride in the narrow van, we entered the foul tenement, threw ourselves upon the mattresses, averaging three to each, and ten in a small room, every door, window, and cranny being shut—after the fashion of these Western folks, who make up for a day in the open air by perspiring through the night in unventilated log huts—and, despite musquetoes, slept.

The Platte River and Fort Kearney, August 10.

The Valley of the Little Blue, 9th August.

8th August, to Rock Creek.