something else might happen.” He again said, “I don’t think my brothers will do anything that is wrong to you and your children.” Then my mother asked my grandfather if he would take my sister with him. My poor mother felt that her daughter was unsafe, for she was young and very good-looking.
“I would like to take her along,” he said, “but I want her to learn how to work and cook. Scott and Bonsai say they will take the very best care of you and the children. It is not as if I was going to leave you here really alone; your brothers will be with you.” So we staid. Two men owned the ferry, and they had a great deal of money. So my brothers took care of their horses and cows all winter, and they paid them well for their work. But, oh, what trouble we had for a while! The men whom my grandpa called his brothers would come into our camp and ask my mother to give our sister to them. They would come in at night, and we would all scream and cry; but that would not stop them. My sister, and mother, and my uncles all cried and said, “Oh, why did we come? Oh, we shall surely all be killed some night.” My uncles and brothers would not dare to say a word, for fear they would be shot down. So we used to go away every night after dark and hide, and come back to our camp every morning. One night we were getting ready to go, and there came five men. The fire was out; we could see two men come into the tent and shut off the postles outside. My uncles and my brothers made such a noise! I don’t know what happened; when I woke I asked my mother if they had killed my sister. She said, “We are all safe here. Don’t cry.”
“Where are we, mother?”
“We are in a boarding-house.”
“Are my uncles killed?”
“No, dear, they are all near here too.
