Some of them raised their hats to us as they rushed past, and our officers recognized General Crook, but we could not, in the cloud of dust, distinguish officers from scouts.

All wore the flannel shirt, handkerchief tied about the neck, and broad campaign hat.
After supper that evening, the conversation turned upon Indians in general, and Apaches in particular.

We camped always at a basin, or a tank, or a hole, or a spring, or in some canon, by a creek.

Always from water to water we marched.

Our camp that night was in the midst of a primeval grove of tall pine trees; verily, an untrodden land.