substantial and commodious, and before I entered
it, a bride, it was refitted in a style almost luxurious. I returned to
Leavenworth to prepare for the wedding, which took place at the home of
an old friend, Thomas Plowman, his daughter Emma having been my chum in
girlhood.

In our home near McPherson we were five miles "in the country." Nature
in primitive wildness encompassed us, but life's song never ran into a
monotone. The prairie is never dull when one watches it from day to day
for signs of Indians. Yet we were not especially concerned, as we were
near enough to the fort to reach it on short notice, and besides our
home there was another house where the ranchmen lived. With these I had
little to do. My especial factotum was a negro boy, whose chief duty was
to saddle my horse and bring it to the door, attend me upon my rides,
and minister to my comfort generally. Poor little chap! He was one of
the first of the Indians' victims.

Early one morning John, as he was called, was sent out alone to look
after the cattle. During breakfast the clatter of hoofs was heard, and
Will rode up to inform us that the Indians were on the war-path and
massed in force just beyond our ranch. Back of Will were the troops,
and we were advised to ride at once to the fort. Hastily packing a few
valuables, we took refuge at McPherson, and remained there until the
troops returned with the news that all danger was over.

Upon our return to the ranch we found that the cattle had been driven
away, and poor little John was picked up dead on the skirts of the
foothills. The redskins had apparently started to scalp him, but had
desisted. Perhaps they thought his wool would not make a desirable
trophy, perhaps they were frightened away. At all events, the poor
child's scalp was left to him, though the mark of the knife was plain.

Shortly after this episode, some capitalists from the East visited
my husband. One of them, Mr. Bent, owned a large share in the
cattle-ranches. He desired to visit this ranch, and the whole party
planned a hunt at the same time. As there were no banking facilities on
the frontier, drafts or bills of exchange would have been of no use;
so the money designed for Western investment had been brought along in
cash. To carry this on the proposed trip was too great a risk, and I was
asked banteringly to act as banker. I consented readily, but imagine
my perturbation when twenty-five thousand dollars in bank-notes were
c