w
to window trying in vain to see out and locate the fire.

ST. PAUL CHAPTER

MISS K. MAUDE CLUM

Mrs. Martin Jay Clum.

I accompanied my husband, Martin Jay Clum, a member of Company "D,"
Second Minnesota Volunteers to Fort Ridgely in 1862. There were left at
the fort but few men to guard it, as the greater number of them had been
ordered to the frontier to quell the Indian outbreaks.

My daughter, Victoria Maria, nine months old, was ill, getting her teeth
and although the night was hot and sultry the windows of our quarters
had to be kept closed on account of the mosquitoes. It was impossible to
obtain any mosquito bar so I walked the floor nearly all night with her
on my arm fanning her constantly as the heat was almost unbearable.

Toward morning, I paused for a few seconds to look out of the window and
as I did so, fancied I saw tiny dark objects moving around a huge straw
stack some distance away. You can scarcely imagine my horror as the dawn
disclosed the truth of my fears.

I put down my dear baby--rushed outside--called to a herder to go at
once and find out what those objects were, moving about the stack.
Hastily mounting a mule he made a detour of the straw stack and
reported. "If there's one Indian there, there's fifty with their ponies
buried in and around the stack." He at once gave the alarm but before
the guard reached the stack there was not an Indian to be seen.
Interpreter Quinn soon sent his son, Tom, to warn me not to leave the
garrison as I had been in the habit of taking walks with my baby in her
carriage.

Later in the day, the pickets and scouts came in and reported a large
camp of over four hundred Indians on the opposite bank of the river,
waiting, no doubt, as Interpreter Quinn said, a chance to make a raid,
capture and maybe massacre everyone of us. He also told me that while
the Indians might not perhaps harm me they would be likely to take my
baby and it would be as bad to be frightened to death as to be scalped.

Mr. August Larpenteur--1843, Ninety-three years old.

The first day I came, in 1843, I had dinner with Mrs. Jackson. It was a
fine one--ducks, venison, and vegetables raised by the Selkirk refugees.
Here I first tasted pemmican. It was most excellent. The bread was baked
in a Dutch oven.

New Year's Day, Mr. Jackson, Luther Furnell and I took a yoke of oxen to
make some New Years calls. We first went to Mr. Gervais' where we
talked, took a drink, kissed