ttles were stolen and suspecting some Indians who were encamped on
the Wisconsin side of the river, they armed themselves to the teeth with
guns, revolvers and bowie knives and taking a canoe, crossed the river,
entered the Indian camp and demanded to see the chief.

He was told that some of his cowardly "braves" had stolen the paleface's
kettles. The chief denied the theft. My father, allowing all his weapons
to be plainly seen, again demanded the return of his kettles, and said
if they were not returned by the next morning he would make war on the
chief's whole tribe and annihilate them. This was too much for the
natives and the next morning the kettles were returned.

My mother, who had spent her childhood and youth in the prairie country,
had never seen any hills worth mentioning. She told me that when she
landed from the steamboat on which she had traveled from Galena and took
up her abode under the overtopping bluffs that lined the banks of the
river and the boat disappeared in the distance, she had an overpowering
feeling that she had been imprisoned far from the world, that she was
shut out from civilization and would never be able to get out of these
"mountains" and for several years that feeling stayed with her. The
river was the only highway over which came human beings. In the winter
the river still was the main traveled road, but with sleighs instead of
boats. It was a rare treat for her to go as far as La Crosse. In the
winter this trip was often accompanied with danger, from the uncertainty
of the strength of the ice. I recall one trip she and my father made
going to La Crosse one day upon the ice in the month of February. They
had planned to stay over night in the latter place and return in the
morning. In the morning they hitched up the horse and drove to the river
bank, but the ice had entirely disappeared during the night and the
steamboating was again good.

In '62 when the Indian outbreak occurred in the west, while Winona was
far removed from the danger zone, much excitement prevailed here. My
father organized a company of men of which he became captain and the
Winona Rangers marched west to help in driving back the Indian forces.
They met thousands of settlers fleeing to the east. Assisting them in
such ways as they might they continued westward until they reached Lake
Shetek where they were stationed for several months. They met no Indians
but were of assistance in restoring confidence in the re