ost bites, and I was obliged to spend most of my time within doors.
Fortunately Baby Packwood had grown to be quite a frolicsome child. She
was fond of me, and her bones had hardened so that there was no longer
danger of my breaking them when I lifted her or held her on my lap. Her
mother had also discovered that I was anxious to be helpful, pleased
when given something to do, and proud when my work was praised.

I was quite satisfied with my surroundings, when, unexpectedly, Mr.
McCoon brought my sister back, and once more we had happy times
together.

CHAPTER XX

I RETURN TO GRANDMA--WAR RUMORS AT THE FORT--LINGERING HOPE THAT MY
MOTHER MIGHT BE LIVING--AN INDIAN CONVOY--THE BRUNNERS AND THEIR HOME.

The Spring of 1848 was at hand when my brother-in-law said to me,
"Grandma Brunner wants you to come back to her; and if, you would like
to go, I'll take you to the Fort, as soon as the weather changes, and
leave you with the people who are getting ready to move north and are
willing to take you with them to Sonoma, where grandma now lives."

The storm was not over, but the day was promising, when my bundle of
clothes was again on the pommel of the saddle, and I ready to begin my
journey. I was so excited that I could hardly get around to say
good-bye to those who had gathered to see me off. We returned by the
same route that we had followed out on that warm June day, but
everything seemed different. The catkins on the willows were forming
and the plain was green with young grass.

As we neared the Fort we passed a large camp of fine-looking Indians
who, I was told, were the friendly Walla-Wallas, that came every spring
to trade ponies, and otter, and beaver-skins with Captain Sutter for
provisions, blankets, beads, gun caps, shot, and powder.

A large emigrant wagon stood near the adobe house where my new
brother-in-law drew rein. Before dismounting, he reached back, took me
by the arm and carefully supported me as I slid from the horse to the
ground. I was so stiff that I could hardly stand, but he led me to the
door where we were welcomed by a good-natured woman, to whom he said,

"Well, Mrs. Lennox, you see I've brought the little girl. I don't think
she'll be much trouble, unless she talks you to death."

Then he told her that I had, during the ride, asked him more questions
than a man six times his size could answer. But she laughed, and
"'lowed" that I couldn't match either of her three boys in ask