that she turned out several pounds of butter."

The diary gives quite a long narrative here as follows:

"By the Fourth of July we were near Fort Laramie in Dakota, and what a
sight I saw as we approached the fort. 'Grandma's Indians!' I
exclaimed, as I saw bands of horses grazing on the plains and Indians
smeared with war-paint and armed with hunting-knives, tomahawks, bows
and arrows, moving about in the sunlight. They did not seem to notice
us as we drove up to the strongly fortified walls around the buildings
of the American Fur Company, but by the time we were ready to leave,
the red men and their squaws were pressing close to the wagons to take
trinkets which we had ready for them. Little Patty stood by me and
every now and then she squeezed my arm and cried, 'Look! Look!' as the
Indians crowded around us. Many of the squaws and papooses were
gorgeous in white doeskin suits gaily trimmed with beads, and were
very different from us in our linsey dresses and sunbonnets.

"As soon as father met the manager of the Fur Company, he advised us
to go right on as soon as we could, because he said the Sioux were on
the war-path, going to fight the Crows or Blackfeet, and their march
would be through the country which we had to cross, and they might
treat us badly, or rob us, as they were in an ugly humor. This greatly
frightened some of the women, and to calm them the men cleaned and
loaded their rifles and did everything they could to hurry away from
the fort. We were there only four days, and when we drove away we met
the mounted Indians, about three hundred of them, tomahawks,
war-paint, and all! They looked very handsome and impressive as they
advanced in a stately procession, two abreast, and rode on before our
train, then halted and opened ranks. As our wagons passed between
their lines they took green twigs from between their teeth and tossed
them to us in token of friendship. Then, having shown their good
faith, they crowded around our wagons and showed great curiosity at
the funny little smoke-stack sticking through the top of our family
wagon. A brave caught a glimpse of his war-paint and feathers in our
looking-glass, which hung opposite the door, and he was fascinated.
Beckoning to his comrades, he pointed to it, and to the strange
reflection of himself, and they all fairly pushed to the front, to see
themselves, in the glass. Unfortunately at that time I rode up on
Billy, and at once the Indians forgot everyt