After six days' progress through storms and mud, we crossed tributaries of the Big Blue River, where the preceding year numerous Indian raids had occurred and many travelers had been massacred. We had not as yet seen a Red Man since we left Nebraska City. The sun was now shining brightly on the scene of the recent carnage, but we discovered no trace of those disastrous struggles with the savage warriors of the plains. I wandered off from the trail alone. Not a moving object dotted the graceful undulations of the green prairie, which lay peaceful in the June sunlight. Not a sound came from hill or valley. The perfect silence was impressive. It is well now and then to be thus alone, where no distraction turns one's thoughts from the serene face of Nature. Despite all this apparent serenity, we knew not what enemy might lurk in those unseen valleys, which lately were the hiding places of bands of the subtle Sioux. We had already perfected our organization for protection, as was then the practice with all trains in the West. Each man took his turn standing guard at night, the first watch being until midnight, when the next in order was called to remain on duty until the cook for the week was summoned in the morning. Deacon Cobb was excused from this service, despite the Gospel injunction on all to watch as well as pray, as was also the cook during his week of service. This cooking "proposition" presented something of a problem. The training which we had received in domestic science was rude and elementary, even compared with that now given in colleges for women. The so-called bread, which was in general the only article that was prepared and baked for our use, was seldom fit for human nourishment. The flour was stirred with water. A little shortening and soda were introduced with no well defined idea as to the proper quantity of each. This chemical compound was put into a skillet, a cast iron pan having a cover of the same material, with a short handle. It was then placed upon the open camp fire, which was made of such combustible substances as the country afforded, rarely wood. The duration of the baking process was regulated by that inestimable faculty which Yankee housewives call "gumption." Few if any of our party were endowed therewith in high degree. Sometimes our bread was of the consistency of putty; at other times the surface of the loaf was burned to a blackened crisp. But we did improve by practice, profiting by the censorious comments of the disgusted eaters who for the time were not managing the mess. We had no vegetables, milk, butter, or eggs. Bacon was the staple article of diet. The coffee was boiled in an open kettle, and served as black as night and strong as it was black. The earth was our table and all our tableware was tin. There were no lines of caste by which the cook was relegated to a lower social level than the banqueters, and if any one should too severely criticise the flavor of his coffee the cook would be