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IN CAMP NEAR BOZEMAN, MONTANA.

Of course it was annoying to be kept indoors, instead of being on excursions among the mountains as we had expected, but we read our papers over a second time and then borrowed of our neighbors. About half of the boys had managed to get off to town, Bozeman, where they are now luxuriating at a hotel. It is now past noon on Monday and the rain is again steadily falling. As yet we have no fires, if it turns cold we will yet have rather a sorry time as everything is so very wet.

We have six tents erected thus: (see photo)

Dr. Peale and I haunt the tent in the foreground, where as we lie snugly in bed, we can hear the constant patter of the rain and snow and the really sweet music of the gurgling stream, which passes but a few feet from our heads. From camp we can see no indication of Cintralion but a patch of ground cultivated by the soldiers of the fort. At the Post - which is a collection of log and frame buildings, with block house and theatre of slabs, etc. - are four companies of troops. Desertions are said to occur very frequently, and judging by the number of "boys in blue", who were at hard labor under guard, some of the aspirants for freedom had been caught.

After continuing three nights, and two days and a half the snow and rain ceased and things began to come into shape. Tuesday, July 2nd, we took our meals in Camp, breakfast at twelve, supper at six. In the afternoon we got things dried out a little, and I with young Bennett of the P.N. garden took a tramp over the foot hills to the North of Camp. Flowers