Let it not be supposed that f.a.n.n.y had no temptations; that the new life upon which she had entered was free from peril and struggles. She was tempted from within and without; tempted to be unjust, unkind, wilful, and disobedient. We cannot even say that she did not sometimes yield to those temptations; but she prayed for strength to resist them. She labored to be true to her high purpose. The anchor which she always wore on her breast frequently reminded her of her short-comings--frequently recalled the memories of the dying angel who had spoken peace to her troubled soul.

"HOPE AND HAVE," she often said to herself; and the words were a talisman to keep her in the path of duty. Continually she kept before her what she hoped to be, and continually she labored to attain the high and beautiful ideal of a true life.

She was happy in her new home, and her friends were happy in her presence there; but not long was this happiness to continue, for even then was gathering in the distance the storm which was to overwhelm them with woe and desolation. An experience of the most awful and trying character was in store for f.a.n.n.y, for which her growth in grace and goodness was the best, and indeed the only preparation.

By treaty and purchase the United States government had obtained vast tracts of the lands of the various sub-tribes of the Sioux and Dakotah Indians. By the original treaty the natives had reserved for their own use the country on both sides of the Minnesota River, including a tract one hundred and fifty miles in length by twenty in breadth. When the Senate of the United States came to act upon the treaty, it was made a condition of the approval that this reservation should also be ceded to the whites. The Indians a.s.sented to the condition, but no lands being appropriated for their use, as agreed, they had moved upon the reservation, and their right to it was recognized.

A portion of this reservation was subsequently acquired by purchase, but the Indians continued to occupy the rest of it. By the various treaties, the Indians were paid certain sums of money every year, and supplied with quant.i.ties of goods, such as blankets, clothing, tools, and arms. But the money was not paid, nor the goods delivered, when due. The Indians were cheated by traders, and the debts due the latter were taken from the money to be paid the former. The neglect of the government,--fully occupied in suppressing the rebellion at the South,--and the immense frauds practised upon the simple natives, roused their indignation, and stirred up a hatred which culminated in the most terrible Indian ma.s.sacre recorded in the annals of our country.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE INDIAN Ma.s.sACRE.

Though there were no Indians residing very near the Lake Settlement, they frequently visited the place, and the settlers were on familiar terms with them. At the house of John Grant they were always treated with kindness and a generous hospitality. Among those who sometimes came was a chief called Lean Bear. f.a.n.n.y was much interested in these denizens of the forest, and she exerted herself to please them, and particularly the chief of the Red Irons, as his tribe was called. She sang to him, brought him milk and bread, and treated him like a great man. He was a brawny fellow, morose and savage, and though he smiled slightly, he did not seem to appreciate her kindness.

About the 15th of August, when f.a.n.n.y had been at the settlement less than two months, Mr. Grant started for one of the Indian Agencies, on the Minnesota River, for the purpose of procuring supplies of the traders in that vicinity. He went with a wagon and a span of horses, intending to be absent ten days.

One morning, when he had been gone a week, Mrs. Grant was milking the cows, of which they kept twenty. Ethan was helping her, and f.a.n.n.y, not yet a proficient in the art, was doing what she could to a.s.sist.

Doubtless she was rather bungling in the operation, for the cow was not as patient as usual.

"Seems like you gals from the east don't know much," laughed Ethan.

"You are on the wrong side of the creetur."

"So I am! I thought there was something wrong, for the cow don't stand quiet," replied f.a.n.n.y.

"No wonder; cows allers wants things did accordin' to rule," added Ethan.

"I didn't mind that I was on the wrong side."

"What do the gals do out east that they don't know how to milk?"

"They don't milk there."

"They don't do nothin'--do they?"

"Not much; at least, they didn't at Woodville."

"Well, gals isn't good for much, nohow," said Ethan, philosophically, as he commenced milking another cow.

"They can do some things as well as boys."

"Perhaps they kin; but you couldn't milk a cow till you kim out hyer."

"I could not."

"Hokee!" suddenly exclaimed Ethan. "What's all that mean?"

"What, Ethan?"

"Don't you see all them hosses up to the house? Hokee! Them's Injins, as sure's you live!"

f.a.n.n.y looked, and saw about twenty Indians ride up to the house and dismount. The sight did not alarm her, though it was rather early in the morning for such a visit.

"D'ye see all them Injins, Miss Grant?" said Ethan to his mistress.

"Dear me! What can they want at this time in the morning? I must go into the house, and see to them, for they'll steal like all possessed."

Mrs. Grant put her milk-pail in a safe place, and hastened to the house, which she reached before any of the savages had secured their horses. Five or six of the visitors entered by the front door, and the rest a.s.sembled in a group, a short distance from the dwelling.

"I wonder what them redskins wants here so airly in the mornin'," mused Ethan, when Mrs. Grant had gone. "I wonder ef they know there ain't no one to home but women folks and boys."

"Suppose they do know,--what then?" asked f.a.n.n.y.

"Nothin'; only I reckon they kim to steal sunthin'."

"They wouldn't steal from aunt Grant."

"Wouldn't they, though!" exclaimed Ethan, incredulously.

"She has been very kind to them."

"They'd steal from their own mothers," added Ethan, as he finished milking another cow, and moved towards a third.

As he crossed the yard he stopped to look at the horses, and to see what had become of the riders.

"Hokee!" cried he, using his favorite expression when excited.

"What's the matter, Ethan?" asked f.a.n.n.y.

"As true as you live, one of them hosses is 'Whiteskin,'" replied he, alluding to one of Mr. Grant's animals.

"One of the Indian horses?"

"Yes; as true as you live! I kin see the old scar on his flank."

"Where could the Indians get him?"

"That's what I want to know," continued Ethan, now so much excited that he could not think of his milking. "Creation hokee!" he added--his usual expression when extraordinarily excited.

"What is it?"

"Creation hokee!" repeated Ethan.

"What do you see, Ethan?" demanded f.a.n.n.y, who was now so much interested that she abandoned her occupation.