Subject: Re[6]: oem downloadable software packages

From: Software packages <[email-masked]>
Date: Sun, 26 Nov 2006 08:40:55 -0700

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e valley of Salt Lake and there were
"forts" at a few points along the way, where ambitious young army officers
passed the best years of their lives guarding live stock and teaching the
mysteries of Hardee's tactics to that alien patriot, the American regular
There was a dusty wagon road, bordered with bones--not always those of
animals--with an occasional mound, sometimes dignified with a warped and
rotting head-board bearing an illegible inscription (One inscription not
entirely illegible is said to have concluded with this touching tribute to
the worth of the departed "He was a good egg" Another was "He done his
damnedest") In other particulars the "Great American Desert" of our
fathers was very like what it was when General Bidwell's party traversed
it with that hereditary instinct, that delicacy of spiritual nose which
served the Western man of that day in place of a map and guide-book
Westward the course of empire had taken its way, but excepting these poor
vestiges it had for some fifteen hundred miles left no trace of its march
The Indian of the plains had as yet seen little to unsettle his assurance
of everlasting dominion Of the slender lines of metal creeping slowly
toward him from East and West he knew little; and had he known more, how
could he have foreseen their momentous effect upon his "ancient solitary
reign"?

I remember very well, as so many must, some of the marked features of the
route that General Bidwell mentions One of the most imposing of these is
Court House Rock, near the North Platte Surely no object of such dignity
ever had a more belittling name--given it in good faith no doubt by some
untraveled wight whose county court-house was the most "reverend pile" of
which he had any conception It should have been called the Titan's
Castle What a gracious memory I have of the pomp and splendor of its
aspect, with the crimson glories of the setting sun fringing its outlines,
illuminating its western walls like the glow of Mammon's fires for the
witches' revel in the Hartz, and flung like banners from its crest!

I suppose Court House Rock is familiar enough and commonplace enough to
the dwellers in that land (riparian tribes once infesting the low lands of
Ohio and Indiana and the flats of Iowa), but to me, tipsy with youth,
full-fed on Mayne Reid's romances, and now first entering the enchanted
region that he so charmingly lied about, it was a revelation and a dream
I wish that anything in the heavens, on the earth, or in the waters under
the earth would give me now such an emotion as I experienced in the shadow
of that "great rock in a weary land"

I was not a pilgrim, but an engineer _attache_ to an expedition through
Dakota and Montana, to inspect some new military posts The expedition
consisted, where the Indians preserved the peace, of the late General WB
Hazen, myself, a cook and a teamster; elsewhere we had an escort of
cavalry My duty, as I was given to understand it, was to amuse the
general and other large game, make myself as comfortable as possible
without too much discomfort to others, and when in an unknown country
survey and map our route for the benefit of those who might come after
The posts which the general was to inspect had recently been established
along a military road, one end of which was at the North Platte and the
other--there was no other end; up about Fort CF Smith at the foot of the
Big-Horn Mountains the road became a buffalo trail and was lost in the
weeds But it was a useful road, for by leaving it before going too far
one could reach a place near the headwaters of the Yellowstone, where the
National Park is now

By a master stroke of military humor we were ordered to return (to
Washington) via Salt Lake City, San Francisco and Panama I obeyed until I
got as far as San Francisco, where, finding myself appointed to a second
lieutenancy in the Regular Army, ingratitude, more strong than traitors'
arms, quite vanquished me I resigned, parted from Hazen more in sorrow
than in anger and remained in California

I have thought since that this may have been a youthful error the
Government probably meant no harm, and if I had served long enough I might
have become a captain In time, if I lived, I should naturally have become
the senior captain of the Army; and then if there were another war and any
of the field officers did me the favor to paunch a bullet I should become
the junior major, certain of another step upward as soon as a number of my
superiors equal to the whole number of majors should be killed, resign or
die of old age--enchanting prospect! But I am getting a long way off the
trail

It was near Fort CF Smith that we found our first buffaloes, and
abundant they were We had to guard our camp at night with fire and sword
to keep them from biting us as they grazed Actually one of them
half-scalped a teamster as he lay dreaming of home with his long fair hair
commingled with the toothsome grass His utterances as the well-meaning
beast lifted him from the ground and tried to shake the earth from his
roots were neither wise nor sweet, but they made a profound impression on
the herd, which, arching its multitude of tails, absented itself to
pastures new like an army with banners

At Fort CF Smith we parted with our _impedimenta_, and with an escort of
about two dozen cavalrymen and a few pack animals struck out on horseback
through an unexplored country northwest for old Fort Benton, on the upper
Missouri The journey was not without its perils Our only guide was my
compass; we knew nothing of the natural obstacles that we must encounter;
the Indians were on the warpath, and our course led us through the very
heart of their country Luckily for us they were gathering their clans
into one great army for a descent upon the posts that we had left behind;
a little later some three thousand of them moved upon Fort Phil Kearney,
lured a force of ninety men and officers outside and slaughtered them to
the la