"Well, we shall have to cross the river in the morning and march down at once," said the General, with a sigh as he thought of the plans he would have to forego on account of this unexpected misfortune. "Meanwhile my commissary and his assistant--" he indicated Lieutenant Bacon and Al,--"will issue rations to the troops for to-morrow's use from your boat." The General went ashore to greet Captain Rea, whose boat had now tied up to the bank, and the Lieutenant and Al went to work checking out provisions. It was Al's last experience as commissary's assistant, for when he returned to camp the General said to him: "I think now will be your best opportunity for getting to Fort La Framboise promptly. You can go down with Captain Lamont if he takes a Fort Benton boat; and you had better start early in the morning so as not to miss him. The distance is about fifty miles and you can probably reach Fort Union to-morrow night. The fort is directly opposite the mouth of the Yellowstone, you know. I will give you a letter to the commanding officer advising him that the army will arrive there in the course of the next three or four days, and I will send an escort with you in case you should encounter Indians." Al spent the evening in going about the camp and bidding good-bye to his many friends in the various commands, especially in the Dakota Cavalry, the Eighth Minnesota, and the Sixth Iowa. The Coyotes crowded around him as if he were one of their own number, and Captain Miner said to him, "When you reach eighteen, come back to Dakota and enlist with us. I want such recruits as you." And Corporal Wright added, "Don't go after any more redskins the way you did at Tahkahokuty; for if the Coyotes aren't around, you'll lose your hair." "I'll try to keep it on, Charlie," replied Al, laughing. "And, meantime, you fellows want to remember when you go into action that you're not the whole line of battle, or some of you may suddenly get bald, too." His last visit was to Wallace Smith and it had a result both surprising and pleasant. "I wish I could go with you, Al," said Wallace, feeling of his stiff, bandaged arm disgustedly. "It's awfully tiresome dragging around in an ambulance, away from the boys and not able to do anything. And Doctor Freeman tells me I shall not be fit for duty for at least three months; so, though I can use my right arm perfectly and feel as well as I ever did in my life, I suppose I'll have to be on the sick list all the time until the Second Brigade gets back to Minnesota." Al looked at his friend steadily for a moment while an idea rapidly evolved itself in his mind.