When the routine of military life palled too greatly on the soldiers, they took refuge in the activities of the Point, a little settlement of dance halls, saloons, and similar places of entertainment, that flourished on the opposite bank of the river directly across from the fort. Since there was no bridge across the Missouri the Point could be reached only by ferry or on the ice. At the time of the spring break-up, however, even the ferry could not be used, and many of the soldiers missed the customary recreational and liquid facilities afforded by the Point. One spring, as the ice was going out, a young man, whose fine physique was equalled only by his foolhardy daring, offered to cross the river for some liquor. Crossing a river on breaking ice has been known as a daring feat since even before the days of Eliza and the bloodhounds, but crossing the Missouri is a particularly hazardous exploit, for this river, always maliciously menacing, is even more so in the spring, with great ice blocks eddying and whirling, crunching violently together, then flung apart by the swift current. The slightest misstep or miscalculation meant death to the young, thirsty soldier, but with the greatest nonchalance he made the crossing and the return, bringing his precious burden back with him, and great and twofold was the rejoicing when he safely reached the home shore. Three years of existence left Fort Abraham Lincoln in comparative quiet, with only an occasional Indian skirmish. Then events on the frontier conspired to bring the Indian troubles to an end. The campaign of the Little Big Horn was planned (_see_ HISTORY). One day in 1876 the Seventh, with bands playing and colors flying, marched away along the Heart in pursuit of the Sioux. On a stifling night early in July the residents of Bismarck were awakened from their sleep by loud sounds of shouting, of wagons and horses moving, at the river. Capt. Grant Marsh had arrived from the Little Big Horn with his steamer, the _Far West_, loaded with the wounded of Major Reno's command, survivors of the Battle of the Little Big Horn. But more than the wounded, he bore news--news of the death of 267 men, of the annihilation of Custer and his immediate command. Twenty-six of the waiting wives at Fort Abraham Lincoln were widows. The only living thing left of Custer's command was Comanche, Capt. Myles Keogh's horse. Through the rough country filled with hostile, victorious Sioux, Reno's wounded men had been carried to the _Far West_, and Captain Marsh had made his epic 54-hour run to Bismarck and the fort 700 miles away. [Illustration: A RED RIVER VALLEY WHEATFIELD] [Illustration: OATS]