That night we camped on Cherry Creek, seventeen miles from Denver.
It was April, and the weather was cold and stormy.

We found a warm and cozy camping-place in the bend of the creek.

We made our beds in a row--feet to the fire.

The prisoners had thus far been docile and I did not think it necessary to hobble them.

They slept inside, and it was arranged that some one was to be constantly on guard.