"All right, men," said the captain, apparently not wishing to seem unduly anxious about the matter; "you may go to the first sergeant and tell him I order your discharges and final statements made out." Thanking him, we saluted and marched off. The documents were made out in due course and handed to us by the sergeant, with compliments on the good service we had all performed and the expression of a hope that when we had "blowed in our money" we would go back to the old company. For some hours we were busy packing up, happy in the feeling that we were once more citizens. We spent some time shaking hands and bidding good-by to every one, and in some cases the partings were rather moving. CHAPTER III WE FIND AN OUTFIT When the dusty bull train came rolling along the road past the garrison it found us waiting. Our property was stowed in an empty wagon, and, again shouting good-bys to the comrades who had come out to see us off, we began our tedious, dusty, dirty march with the bull train. At that time Majors & Russell, of Leavenworth, Kansas, had the contract for transporting government supplies to all frontier posts. Mr. Majors had the reputation of being a very religious man, and in fitting out trains required all wagon-masters and teamsters to sign a written contract agreeing to use no profane language and not to gamble or to travel on Sundays. At starting he furnished each man with a Bible and hymn-book, and exhorted him to read the gospel and hold religious services on the Sabbath. This statement is regarded by many people of the present day as an old frontier joke, but it is actual fact. The wagons--called prairie-schooners--were large and heavy and usually drawn by six yoke of oxen to the team. When outward bound they were loaded at the rate of one thousand pounds of freight to the yoke. Twenty-five such teams constituted a train, in charge of a wagon-master and assistant, who were mounted on mules. The travel was slow, dusty, and disagreeable beyond description. At camping time the trains corralled across the road, a half circle on either side, leaving the open road running through the centre of the corral. [Illustration: _Bull Train corralled for camp._] Our route was down the Arkansas River on the north bank, but the train itself did not go to the water. That used for cooking and drinking was carried along in casks, which were replenished at every opportunity. The detail of this travel, while interesting, cannot be given here, but on the journey we learned a great deal that was absolutely new to us. On the first night out from Fort Wise we were awakened by a bull-whacker, who brought to our bed two men who had asked for us and who proved to be deserters. We felt the sympathy for them which the average soldier feels for a deserter, gave them a little money and some rations, and recommended them to hurry on, travelling at night and lying hid in the daytime. They went on, as advised.