_May 29_ (Saturday). We encamped on the Platte River, having marched twelve miles. Wood is so scarce that a party had to swim across the river for some, floating it back to camp. _May 30_ (Sunday). This should have been a day of rest. We congratulated ourselves on our good luck in not having to march, as the day was wet and chilly. But we crowed too early in the morning, for we were all turned out to procure wood, which, as yesterday, had to be floated back from the opposite side of the river, after three hours' work in a swamp, up to the middle in mud and water. _May 31_ (Monday). We reached the crossing of Plum Creek, a distance of fifteen miles. At one time during the march we were gladdened by the sight of a large lake, with bluffs and headlands extending into it, and with vessels sailing majestically on its calm bosom; but, sad to relate, on nearer approach the lake turned into a low fog, the headlands dwindled into the old, monotonous chain of sand-bluffs, and the vessels metamorphosed into three or four rusty looking ox-wagons. _June 1_ (Tuesday). We encamped in Buffalo Bog, so called because it is a great trail for the buffaloes. Our march amounted to seventeen and a third miles. As we came into camp a herd of buffaloes was seen on the neighboring sand hills. The Lieutenant and the Indian hunters went after them and killed two or three, bringing in the tongues and the humps, and leaving the remainder for the wolves to pick. We saw our first real Indians to-day. A chief of the Sioux and his squaw came into camp this afternoon. They were savage all over--in their looks, dress, and conduct; and decidedly so in their speech, which, however, they used very sparingly, talking to us in a sort of dignified pantomime. The gist of the conversation was, "Something to eat," and no matter of what we spoke they invariably began their answer with, "How! How!" and terminated with "Something to eat." It would have been difficult to distinguish the chief from the squaw, they resembled each other so closely in looks and dress, were it not that the squaw never laughed until the chief smiled nor opened her mouth to speak until first spoken to. _June 2_ (Wednesday). To-day brought us to Reedy Flat, seventeen and a half miles. Our camp ground is level and swampy, and full of tall reeds--hence its name. Two men are now detailed each morning to start an hour or two before the command, in order, if possible, to shoot some game; but owing to the inexperience of our men, they rarely succeed in obtaining anything. _June 3_ (Thursday). We came to-day to Cottonwood Spring, concluding a march of seventeen and a third miles. After dark the police detail was obliged to turn out on a wood hunting expedition, in order to procure fuel for breakfast. The nearest wood was at least a mile from camp, and in the search for it there was also, incidentally, found some whiskey, which two individuals retailed from a rude tent at the moderate price of one dollar per quart.