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Updated: June 17, 2025
After we'd told all we know'd, we asked her to tell us her story, which she did, and it showed she was a woman of grit and education. "She said the Ingins what had captured her took her up to their camp on the Saw Log, a little creek north of Fort Dodge you all know where it is and there she staid that night. Early in the morning they all started for the north.
"In the summer of 1846, there was a little half dugout, half cabin, opposite the mouth of Frenchman's Creek, put up by Bill Thorpe, Al Boyd, and Rube Stevens. Bill and Al was men grown, and know'd more 'bout the prairies and timber than the Ingins themselves. They'd hired out to the Northwest Fur Company when they was mere kids, and kept on trapping ever since.
"The boys got inside all right just as the Ingins came a yelling up. Bill looked out of a hole in the wall and counted thirty of the devils, and said at once: 'Off with your coats; don't let them have anything to catch hold of but our naked bodies if they get in, and we can handle ourselves better. "'Thirty to three, said Al.
"Oh, ho! my old cock, that's the ticket, is it? but you'll see whether an old stager, like me, is to be turned out of any man's house such a night as this. I hav'nt served two campaigns against the Ingins and the British for nothing; and here I rest for the night."
'All right, let's have your waste lead, said Bill. "'A few more of these dead Ingins and we can make a regular fort of this old cabin; we want two for that chunk, said Al, as he pointed with his rifle to a large gap on the west side of the wall; but before he had fairly got the words out of his mouth, two of the attacking party jumped down into the room.
Bill and Al, fastened with their backs against each other, and Little Rube by himself, were bound to separate trees, but not so far apart that they could not speak to each other, and some of the Ingins began to gather sticks and pile them around the trees. "'What are they going to do with us? anxiously inquired Bill of Al. "'Roast us, you bet, replied the other.
"Oh, ho! my old cock, that's the ticket, is it? but you'll see whether an old stager, like me, is to be turned out of any man's house such a night as this. I hav'nt served two campaigns against the Ingins and the British for nothing; and here I rest for the night."
"Well, Cap'n, I've fit Ingins and herded cattle more'n twenty year, off an' on, and if there ain't been three men here not over three hour ago, I lose my reckonin'. See here, in this soft place where the sun has melted the ground a bit, is hoof-marks, and they belong to three different horses." "Perhaps they stole a horse?" "Mebbe so, and mebben't so. I reckon it mebben't so. Cause why?
We drawed up the wagons into a corral on the edge of the river where there wasn't no grass for quite a long stretch; we done this to kind o' fortify ourselves, for we expected to have trouble with the Ingins there, if anywhere, as we warn't but seventeen miles from Pawnee Rock, the worst place on the whole Trail for them; so we picked out that bare spot where they couldn't set fire to the prairie.
And wouldn't myself have been the one to be helping you in the farm rearing the powlts, milkin' the cow, makin' the iligant butther, with lavings of butthermilk for the pigs the sow thriving, and the cocks and hens cheering your heart with their cacklin' the hank o' yarn on the wheel, and a hank of ingins up the chimbley oh! there's where the Providence would have been that would have been Providence indeed! but never tell me that Providence turned you out of the house; that was your own goostherumfoodle."
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