We have passed through some very narrow cañons to-day, where there was barely room for one wagon to pass. Great rocks were hanging overhead on one side, with a rushing stream beside and just below the road on the other. There are beautiful waterfalls in the cañons. I was standing watching one of the highest, waiting for the wagons to pass. The last one had gone when Mr. Morrison came and peremptorily commanded me to “Come on, Miss Sallie. The I-I-I-Indians will c-c-c-carry you off some of these days,” he stuttered. Of course I went. The captain’s orders are, “Do not leave camp this evening.” We were only just corralled when I saw Lyde Walker climbing a near-by mountain. It is the first time I have known her to leave camp since we came into the Black Hills; she is very much afraid of Indians. When she came back I asked, “Why, Lyde, did you not hear the captain’s order that we were not to leave camp this evening?” “Oh, there is no danger when the men are on guard and watching. It is when they feel secure and are not looking out for them that I am afraid. Indians do not molest people when they are expecting them.” LARAMIE PLAINS. Tuesday, July 11. The sounding of the bugle and the echo that reverberated through the mountain gorges this morning was enchantingly sweet, and must have driven slumber from every eyelid. We left the hills at noon and are camping on Laramie Plains. We came over some very steep, rocky roads before we reached the plains. I watched the wagons anxiously as they descended the steep, rocky mountain-side, bounding and bumping against the big rocks, expecting and dreading an upset, but all landed safely on level ground at last, and I gave a sigh of relief and thanksgiving. We have not had an uncomfortably warm night all Summer, but while we have been coming through the hills the nights have been really cold, so that we have slept under blankets and comforts, like Winter-time. There is no sickness in camp at all; it is marvelous how very well we are. I hope it will continue so. * * * * * Wednesday, July 12. We crossed the Big Laramie River just before noon. Had a good crossing; the water is clear, the bed of the river is covered with gravel, the banks are low, and the water is not very deep. I rode across on Dick; the water just came to my stirrup. We will stay here until to-morrow, as there is no water for fifteen or twenty miles, and we cannot go so far in half a day. We young people planned a fishing expedition for this evening, but the mosquitoes are so thick on the bank of the river we had to give it up. Some of the boys went seining; Brother Winthrop was among them, so we will have fish for breakfast to-morrow morning.