From Chap. 47, Camp Leavenworth, 1830
The next day, preparing to go out some distance, I went to Major Davenport's office and found him at his desk. Clutching my map, I was stunned when he refused an escort. "But we're leaving tomorrow," I said. "I understood we'd have an escort when we got ready to run our long lines."
"I don't know where you got that idea." He lit a big cigar. "If you want a guard, then write to General Atkinson at Jefferson Barracks." He sucked on the cigar. "Of course, that could take weeks."
I said, "Surely you could work something out." He didn't respond. I started to leave, then turned around and gave him some information. "Oh, Major Davenport, you may want to start dismantling this garrison."
He jerked his head back. "What?!?"
I waved the rolled-up map. "I studied this more thoroughly last night. In setting these boundaries, the government made no provision for this cantonment. You're sitting on Delaware land."
He jumped up. "Let me see that again." He grabbed the map out of my hand, unrolled it on his desk, and frowned. "This has to be a mistake."
I shouldn't have, but I said, "Maybe you should write to General Atkinson . . . at Jefferson Barracks."
He shoved the map toward me and I rolled it back up. "On the other hand," I said, "I'm on very good terms with the Delawares. I could easily work something out."