ugees. That night we were all sitting huddled together trembling
with fear. We had helped feed the hungry and cared for the wounded all
day long and now were so fatigued we could hardly keep awake. I had
brought my little kerosene lamp with me. I lit it and brought out of the
darkness the sorrowful groups of women and children. Some one called
"Lights out." I turned mine down and set it behind the door. We sat in
darkness. A voice called, "Up stairs." I gathered my baby in my arms,
told Walter to hold on to mother's dress on one side and Minnie on the
other, and up stairs we went, all pushed from behind so we could not
stop. We were pushed into a large room, dark as pitch. There we all
stood panting through fear and exertion. How long, I do not know. A
voice in the room kept calling, "Ota! Ota!" meaning "Many! Many!" We
knew there were Indians with us, but not how many. I had the butcher
knife sharpened when the first refugees came and covered with a piece of
an old rubber. It was now sticking in my belt. I asked Mrs. Dunn what
she had to protect herself with. She said she had nothing, but found her
shears in her pocket. I told her to put out their eyes with them, while
they were killing us, for we expected death every minute after hearing
those Indian voices. I heard Jim Dunn's voice and called him and told
him where my lamp was and asked him to bring it up. He brought it to me.
This was the crucial moment of my life. I sat the lamp on the floor, and
with one hand on the butcher knife, slowly turned up the light. I saw
only three squaws and three half breed boys, instead of the large number
of Indians I expected. Each declared "Me good Injin! Me good Injin!"

All was confusion. William Hawley was inside guard at the door of the
room we were in upstairs. He was just out of the hospital and was very
weak. In spite of this he had gone with the soldiers to Redwood and had
just returned after crawling out from under his dead companions and
creeping through the brush and long grass those dreadful miles. He was
all in. His gun had a fixed bayonet.

My eyes never left those squaws for a moment. I was sure they were
spies who would go to the devils outside and tell them of the weakness
of the fort. Two of the squaws began to fight about a fine tooth comb.
The more formidable of the two, with much vituperation, declared she
would not stay where the other one was. Just at the height of the fight,
a gun outside was fired. The minu