room
opened and a hideously painted Indian came in. His face, as nearly as I
can remember, was painted half red and half black with white streaks
across. A band around his head contained a number of large feathers,
indicating the number of enemies he had killed. He evidently hoped to
frighten me terribly. I determined I would try not to let him know how
frightened I was. I sat still at my table and kept on with my writing
and in a short time he went down stairs again. This Indian was the
famous Little Crow, the leader of the outbreak of 1862. Afterwards my
second husband, Mr. Pond, tried to teach Little Crow to read music and
he told me that he had double teeth all around. Little Crow learned to
sing and had a fine voice. He was a fine looking fellow without his
paint; tall, slender and strong looking.

In the spring of 1844, April 4, we started on our journey back to
Traverse de Sioux. We had a snow storm on the way but reached our new
home in peace and safety. This was a one room log cabin with a little
attic above. The Indians here were not quite as friendly as those at Lac
qui Parle and seemed to wish we had never come among them.

I had a class of all the little Indian girls that I could persuade to
come to school. Their parents seemed very much opposed to having their
children learn to read, sew, cook or anything else. I think they had an
idea that in some way we would be paid for our trouble in teaching them
and that it would be to their disadvantage when they sold their land. At
any rate only a few girls came to school. In order to make my task of
teaching them less unpleasant I provided basins, towels, soap and combs
and requested them to use them each day as they came in. Contrary to my
expectations they seemed to delight in these morning ablutions,
especially if I brought a mirror so they might see themselves.

One of these girls was an especial favorite of mine. She came quite
regularly and seemed interested in trying to learn all she could. She
was about fifteen years old. The girls had to walk about a mile through
the deep snow to reach the school. One day this favorite girl was
absent. I asked why she was not there, but the other girls did not know.
The next day again she was absent and the other girls told me the reason
was because she did not wish to marry a man who had bought her and had
three wives already. That day her parents went for food from a store of
provisions which they had, leaving her at