extracted from the placers and quartz leads of California. This is no Utopian idea, but a certain fixed pivotal fact. Peace alone, however, can develop these treasures, and it remains to be seen whether we shall have this peace or, through the machinations of Southern conspirators, the war shall be continued for an indefinite period. In the meantime, while the war is progressing, I desire expecially to call your attention to the condition of things in this Territory. I have visited five forts-Buchanan, Breckinridge, McLane, Fillmore, and Fauntleroy-within the last six months, and at each of these military posts I have uniformly found the sutlers to be bold, open, and avowed secessionists in favor of the Confederate States of the South, real, live, pure, adamantine Jeff. Davis rebels. At Fort Buchanan, White and Granger were secessionists; at Breckinridge, John H. Baird, ditto; at McLane, George M. Dyer and company, ditto; at Fillmore, Samule J. Jones, ditto, and now here at Fort Fauntleroy George T. Gillespie is a secessionist in favor of old Virginia and the South. He is a protege of John B. Floyd, is from Southwestern Virginia, and was appointed by Floyd, your predecessor in the War Office, sent out especially as an adjunct to be relied upon to advance the schemes of Wise, Floyd, Jeff. Davis, and company. Shall he be continued in office? I hope not. I trust not. There is a good, true, and loyal Union man here, David Reeder, a brother of Captain Ambrose Reeder, a well-known steam-boat captain and owner of Saint Louis and Cincinnati. Mr. Reeder desires this position, the position of sutler. The question arises: Is it not better to trust such offices to your friends than your enemies? If Mr. Gillespie wishes to remain in the sutlership business, let him go back to old Virginia or to Texas and try his hand with his brother conspirators, but not remain and suck the blood (charging about five prices for everything he has to sell to Union soldiers) out of loyal defenders of the American Government. A razor, for instance, which you could buy at Chatham street, Four Corners, New York, for 25 cents he asks here the modest sum of $2. 50; whisky, $10 per gallon, and $16 if retailed by the gill; other articles in pretty much the same proportion. There are now stationed at this post (Fort Fauntleroy) three companies, A, B, and C, Second Regiment of New Mexico Volunteers, commanded by Capts. Manuel D. Pino, Jose D. Sena, and Manuel Baca y Delgado. The commanding officer here is Lieutenant Colonel Manuel Chavez. With the exception of five or six, they are all of Hispano-Mexican descent, speaking the Spanish language almost exclusively. Fort Fauntleroy is located about 140 miles west of Albuquerque on the Rio Grande. It is far advanced in the Navajo country. It is in latitude 35 deg. 40 sec. and longitude west from Greenwhich 109 deg. 14 sec. 30". The weather here at the present time is delightful, the air cool and bracing. The distance from here to old Fort Defiance (deserted) is about forty-five miles; from Fort McLane (burnt down or detroyed), about 120, nearly due south. The Navajoes appear to be a peaceable, quiet, inoffensive sort of Indians, more sinned against than sinning five times over, I venture to assert. White people here do a great many things in this country and then lay it to the charge of the poor Indians. They get one pound of beef, perhaps, from the Government and are charged with twenty, one blanket and are charged with six, one pound of tobacco and charged with ten, and so on ad infinitum. They are kicked and cuffed about on all sides, and if they venture to complain or retaliate upon their oppressors or aggressors a great hue and cry is raised about the encroachments of the terrible Navajoes. All gammon, for the most part. Treated with justice and kindness, they will not be troublesome to the authorities of the United States. Colonel Thomas Hart Benton, in his admirable speech delivered in the House of Representatives, at