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Show 66 MORE ABOUT THE BRIDGER ter off, for we had no matches. There we were, four of us, on an open plain, in a fearful storm, on a dark night. Our ambulance afforded but little protection more to the mules on the outside than to those inside but by lying " spoon- fashion" we all managed to get in, and put the one robe over us. Unfortunately it was not large enough to completely cover the outside parties. Lieutenant S. was one of these, and lay with his back exposed on the side next to the mules. Having had no supper the animals ate the curtains from the ambulance, and next took a piece out of the back of the Lieutenant's overcoat. Mr. Dean was nearly frozen, and he lay so still that we often called him to learn whether he was dead or alive. Being one of the middle ones I suffered less, but spent the night in decidedly unpleasant thoughts. I repeated over and over again " Excelsior," though I felt not the least ambition to emulate the youth's courage in a similar adventure, nor did I very seriously think that I would meet a similar fate. Lieutenant S. was asked the next day by a lady what his thoughts were about, when he replied that he spent the greater part of the night in repeating the Lord's Prayer, which certainly was not in keeping with his audible ex pressions when he discovered that the mules had eaten a hole in the back of his coat. After what appeared as an almost interminable night, the day finally dawned, but the storm had abated none of its fury. As soon as it was light enough to see the road, which could be distinguished by the ' aid of the telegraph poles, we attempted to hitch up the mules, but all were so benumbed as to render it impossible to do so. Then fol lowed another council of war, or council of safety, and it was decided that we would leave the driver, with the robe, which was sufficient to keep one man warm, and the others would walk to the post. Before we had gone three hundred yards Mr. Dean, fearing he would give out, returned to share the robe with the driver. Lieutenant S. and myself pushed for ward, wading through snow- drifts three feet deep, and with the wind directly in our faces, driving the snow- flakes |