After a drive around the square, Mr. McA. and mother alighted at the chaplain's, and Mrs. P. and I at Lieutenant G. B. Davis', and were kindly received by both Mr. and Mrs. Davis, but the Lieutenant was soon called away to engage in a cavalry drill, or sham battle; but Mrs. D. entertained us very pleasantly, which was no little task, as I never was so dull and stupid as I grew to be after sitting for a short time in their cosy parlor. How provoking to be so, when there was so much of interest about me, and my time so limited. Mrs. D. insisted on my lying down and taking some rest, which I gladly consented to do, providing they would not allow me to sleep long. I quickly fell into a doze, and dreamt the Indians were coming over the bluffs to take the fort, and in getting away from them I got right out of bed, and was back in the parlor in less than ten minutes. Mrs. D. then proposed a walk to some of the public buildings; but we were driven back by a gust of wind and rain, that swept over the bluffs that hem them in on the north-west, carrying with it a cloud of sand and dust. The clouds soon passed over, and we started over to see the cavalry drill, but again were driven back by the rain, and we watched the cavalrymen trooping in, after the battle had been fought, the greys in one company, and sorrels in another. There were only about 200 soldiers at the post. The keeping up of a post is a great cost, yet it is a needed expense, as the knowledge of the soldiers being so near helps to keep the Indians quiet. Yet I could not see what would hinder them from overpowering that little handful of soldiers, despite their two gatling guns, that would shoot 1,000 Indians per minute, if every bullet would count, if they were so disposed. But they have learned that such an outbreak would be retaliated by other troops, and call down the indignation of their sole keeper and support--"Uncle Sam." We were interested in hearing Lieut. Davis speak in words of highest praise of Lieut. Cherry, whose death in 1881 was so untimely and sad, as he was soon to bear a highly estimable young lady away from near my own home as a bride, whom he met at Washington, D.C., in '79, where he spent a portion of a leave of absence granted him in recognition of brave and conspicuous services at the battle of the Little Big Horn, known as Custer's massacre. He was a graduate of West Point, was a brave, intelligent, rising young officer. Not only was he a good soldier, but also a man of upright life, and his untimely and violent death brought grief to many hearts, and robbed the world of a good man and a patriot. As the story of his death, and what it led to is interesting, I will briefly repeat it: