"Only," I added, aloud, "do not expect me to pack up such trash when we come to move; you will have to look out for it yourself." So with that spiteful remark from me, the episode of the forceps was ended, for the time at least.
As the winter came on, the isolation of the place had a rather depressing effect upon us all.

The officers were engaged in their various duties: drill, courts-martial, instruction, and other military occupations.

They found some diversion at "the store," where the ranchmen assembled and told frontier stories and played exciting games of poker.

Jack's duties as commissary officer kept him much away from me, and I was very lonely.
The mail was brought in twice a week by a soldier on horseback.

When he failed to come in at the usual time, much anxiety was manifested, and I learned that only a short time before, one of the mail-carriers had been killed by Indians and the mail destroyed.