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168 for resistance only makes them more furious, and their numbers are the largest. How long we shall have a respite from their unearthly songs and firing of guns, we know not. CHAPTER EIGHT124 red iron villAge. Everything moves on in about the same way. War parties returning. Councils held. Criers go about the camp making known the commands of the rebels. Occasionally one returns from battle wounded, and a death in any of the camps produces great lamentation. The female relatives go about with their hair disheveled, and tattered garments, making the most heartrending moanings that can be imagined, varying from a boisterous cry to a low, deep sound; then again we can think of nothing but an old deserted building, whose walls creak and groan with the burden of years as the wind howls through the frail tenement; inhabited only by the dim spectres of haunted imaginations. Who has not listened to the low murmuring whistle among the trees in the Autumn? Add to this the tremulous appearance of the popple leaf, supposing it to be sound instead of motion, and you have in partial effect a description of the mourning for the dead, which is like most of the heathen nations, and not much unlike the weeping of Israel. The time chosen for these scenes is usually just as day is departing, or at midnight, or before the day dawns.125 The friendly Indians will doubtless get killed or make themselves trouble in the future, by trying to get horses from deserted settlements. The Indian’s reason that the owners cannot return after them, and that the rebels will take them, if they don’t, and as they still expect to be driven on to Red River, and have no teams of their own; it seems to us they act much the same as white people would in the same circumstances. Their love for the aged ones, and helpless children is very strong, and to plunder for these objects of their care, they do not believe to be wrong; for, say A Thrilling nArrATive of indiAn CApTiviTy 169 they, we are driven to it by the rebels, who threaten our aged parents and helpless children with death, if they cannot keep pace on a march with the able-bodied men. It would be better if they would put their trust entirely in their Heavenly Father,—but that is what men are often slow to do. The Indians are using up the powder and shot very fast. It being a season for ducks, a constant firing is kept up morning and evening; this adds to the wild excitement, for the running to and fro in haste to procure guns, left momentarily in their tents; and to one not initiated in all the strategems [sic] of Indian warfare, it is hard judging what these movements mean, until you hear the guns explode, one after another, into the air. This wasting of powder is a matter of rejoicing, for it gives us reason to believe they cannot carry on the war much longer. Wednesday.—We called on Maj. B.’s family to while away a few tedious moments; they have a large and commodious tent, but many to occupy it with them. Nellie’s walking habit looked very becoming with her rich broadcloth skirt and fashionable shawl, thrown gracefully over her shoulders . The shawl and habit she had when taken captive, and had been allowed to keep them by getting to the friendly Indians for protection.126 We throw in this to give a ray of cheerfulness to the narrative. But while we were there, none of us dared to speak above a whisper in English, and if we forgot ourselves, some friend outside would warn us of our danger. Mr. R. came for us with a buggy he had borrowed; this was a rare treat, and we accepted with a cheerful heart. Thursday.—Mary went with us to Mr. Pettijohn’s house, to do some washing, for we are too poor to hire a Dakota woman now, although we have been forbidden by friends and medical advisers to attempt such labor when we were living in civilized life.127 We had to go about four miles,—found the stove standing,—the feathers flying, the bureau rifled of its contents. The front door was locked. The teachers were at the Missions on the eve of the outbreak, and made their escape with the Missionaries. We took one tub with us...

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