protection of his wigwam, no Indian honorably violates it. There were ten
of these Indians. Mother was washing. She said the children were very
much afraid, not having gotten over their fright. They got around behind
her and the washtub, as though she could protect them. The Indians asked
for bread and milk; mother gave them all she had. They got upon the
floor, took hold of hands and formed a ring. The sober one sat in the
middle; the others seemed to hear to what he said as much as though he
had been an officer. He would not drink a drop of the whisky, but kept
perfectly sober. They seemed to have a very joyful time, they danced and
sang their wild songs of the forest. Then asked mother for more bread and
milk; she told them she had no more; then they asked for buttermilk and
she gave them what she had of that. As mother was afraid, she gave them
anything she had, that they called for. They asked her for whisky; she
said she hadn't got it. They said, "Maybe you lie." Then they pointed
toward Mr. Pardee's and said, "Neighbor got whisky?" She told them she
didn't know. They said again, "Maybe you lie."

When they were ready the sober one said, "Indian go!" He had them all
start in single file. In that way they went out of sight. Mother was
overjoyed and much relieved when they were gone. They had eaten up all
her bread and used up all her milk, but I suppose they thought they had
had a good time.

Not more than two or three weeks after this the Indians moved away, and
these children of the forest wandered to other hunting grounds. We were
very much pleased, as well as the other neighbors, when they were gone.

Father had a good opinion of the Indians, though he had been frightened
by the first one, John Williams, and was afraid of losing his life by
him. He considered him an exception, a wicked, ugly Indian. Thought,