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From the weak condition of our horses we concluded it was impossible to carry any fuel and that we would trust to chance for a supply on the road. The steady tide of immigration still continued pouring westward, and I noticed in some trains that we met whole familes of women and children the sufferings of and hardships of the road was enough for a strong man to endure, but women and children were not fit for it and I think it was a most barbarous thing to bring them on the road at all. Since we passed O Fallons Bluffs we have been traveling in the Cheyannes country, they are a fine warlike tribe of Indians the "Camanchi" of this part of the country they are above begging and other low lived employments of the most part of the tribes of the west. They are said to be great fighters have immense herds of ponies and almost live on horseback, in trading they are quick at making a bargain if they do not like your price they will not try to get more out of you but they will turn away instantly try a trade with some one else and have no more to do with you. It took us a week to get through their country and I really thought more of them than any I had yet seen on the plains. One evening about an hour before sunset we were camped only a short distance from a Cheyanne village, and a hunter drove up to our camp, he was riding a small pony and had the carcasses of two antelopes and a young deer also slung across his back. After saluting us in the usual friendly manner, "how, how," we understood from him that he had been on the hunt all day and had nothing to eat, we gave him some tea and crackers which he eat with a relish, he then went to his pony and cut off the livers of the antelopes and gave them to us we considered it a great compliment for the Indians scarcely ever make a present of anything. We were out of meat and wanted to buy some of his antelope we offered him tea coffee