by J. A. Crook
***
July 20, 1847
It has been many months now and Ive writen about many boring things. Comes to find out that travelin west isnt reel fun nor does it offur much to write about. Last nite I lerned that things can get more interestin then I woulda ever wanted. Hank was killed for shootin some indians that were attaking our camp. Floyd and I ended up leavin camp with the two men that saved us, one who is naimed Jasper and another named Chance. They seem like nice men for saving us but I cant stop thinkin about what they did to those indians. It says something I think when men shoot other men more times then is needed. I think that gose for anything. I guess it dont matter how nice they are then. Floyd and I got a room at Fort Bleck, wich is a shourt distance off our regular path and it aint much of a Fort. The walls are made of pointey logs and thers some cabins. There isnt many people here at the Fort but for Jasper and Chance and a couple of others that are looking sick who Floyd sed to stay way from. I think mister Vickers will be here soon and I hope and prey to God that they are all alright.
Sincerely,
Hattie
