seen the Sioux warriors around it. It was on the prairie below town.
There was room for one to lie down by it and the rest would dance or sit
in council around it. They always went to it before going into battle.
They left gifts which the white people stole. I can remember taking some
little thing from it myself. I passed a party of Indians with it in my
hand. One of the squaws saw what I had and became very angry. She made
me take it back. She seemed to feel as we would if our church had been
violated. This stone was stolen by a man from the east and taken there.
This loss made the Indians very angry.

Little Crow was often at our house and was much loved by us children. He
used to bring us candy and maple sugar. My father was fond of him too,
and said he was always honest.

The Indians did not understand the white man's ways. When the white man
had a big storehouse full of goods belonging to the Indians and the
Indian was cold and hungry, he could not see why he could not have what
was there, belonging to him, if it would keep him warm and feed him. He
could not see why he should wait until the government told him it was
time for him to eat and be warm, when the time they had told him before
was long past. It was the deferred payments that caused the outbreak, I
have often heard from the Indians.

One morning in the summer of '58 we heard firing on the river. Most of
the Sioux had gone to get their annuities but a few who were late were
camped near Murphy's. These had been attacked by a large band of the
Chippewa. The fighting went on for hours, but the Chippewa were
repulsed. That was the last battle between the Sioux and the Chippewa
near here.

I have often seen Indians buried on platforms elevated about eight feet
on slender poles. They used to put offerings in the trees to the Great
Spirit and to keep the evil spirits away. I remember that one of these
looked like a gaily colored umbrella at a distance. I never dared go
near.

Mary Sherrard Phillips--1854.

At the time of the Indian massacre in Minnesota, August, 1862, John
Otherday, who was married to a white woman, sent word to the agent's
wife to leave the Agency within an hour. This was at half past nine at
night. The trouble began at a small store a short distance from the
agent's house. The shooting and fighting could be heard from the house.

Otherday, with a party of sixty-two refugees, instead of taking them to
the fort, had them ford the Min