In view of the general conditions, we held a council in the evening, and as arguments are easily forthcoming to sustain any personal desire or predilection, we, as many young men would have done, decided to go by the Laramie route. This was on the theory or pretext that we were likely to get over the mountains before the Indians could inaugurate a general warfare, and before the treaty gathering at Laramie could be concluded. As a fact, we were disposed to go by that route because we believed that more of interest promised to happen along that trail; besides, the natural attractions appeared more inviting than on the Bridger route. The rapid rise in the river, indeed, brought rather a serious obstacle to confront us, but we determined to attempt the crossing in the morning. For a time in the year 1864, prior to the diversion of the stage line to the Bridger route, a ferry was maintained at this crossing, but in the following year it was permanently abandoned. We had not forgotten to inquire after the condition of the wounded young driver who had preceded us. The post surgeon reported that he was progressing favorably and that the doctor who had dressed the wound had done it as well as could be expected of an amateur; in other words, he had done nothing except to bandage it. We were permitted to congratulate the young man on his safe trip to that point. [Illustration: BUFFALOS] On our way back to the camp we were surprised to come upon Dr. Brown's driver, John, who informed us that his party had just arrived. He conducted us to the doctor's camp, where we received a cordial southern welcome. When we informed Dr. Brown that we had decided to undertake the northern route, he requested us to be seated for awhile. Occupying such boxes and other objects as were the most available, we were soon in comfortable positions. Ben and Fred made it convenient to sit one on either side of the girls, who were as usual side by side. I was pleasantly grouped with the doctor and his wife. John, after having stimulated the camp fire, found a seat upon the front of one of the wagons. The doctor was much older than we were, and we had observed that the loss of many friends during the recent war and the abandonment of his old Kentucky home, had filled his mind with sad and haunting recollections. However, he and his family were fine examples of the best and most cultured stock that went out from his state to make up the permanent citizenship that entered into the building of the West. For several minutes after we were all seated but few words were spoken. The camp fire, which had been revived for light rather than for heat, had begun to flash some flickering rays upon the faces of the little company gathered around it. Finally the doctor said: "I much regret that our paths must separate, and though our own plans are somewhat uncertain, I hope that we may meet again."