The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1892-05-15

SAID: II buried him 10
days ago. lie was killed at Birch Coulie."
/ hadn't broken down before, but then |
did. 1t seemed more than / could bear.
Wien we passed my old home at the mills l
had insisted On going ashore much 10 the
Indians distress. Our house had not been
burned aud | found little leathorn trunk
containing a few trInkets belonging TO NE
and the children. / knew from 1t that my
husband must have been there and packed
them Gp, but somehow | never thought of
his being killed, knowing he had gone away
before the outbreak, and | took along the
little trunk expecting to find him at the fort.
l was a terrible looking object when we
landed. Barefooted and scarcely clothed,
with a bit of an old gngham apron tied
about my head, bruised and torn by bushes
aud brambles, Ineither looked nor felt more
than haif-human Two hundred others had
been ahead Of me at the fort requiring to be
clad and the garrison was pretty well de-
pleted, but Mrs. Sweet gave me n light
calico wrapper, shaker bonnet, pair of
mems shoes and socks, and, rs l was anx-
ious to get to my former home Ia the south
ern part Of the State, | was given an escort
OF sold ers who were TO accompany me be-
yond the dangerous territory.
There was one funny incident in the
whole experience, said Mrs. Sweet, begin
ming to laugh. Part of our journey was
made in stagecoach. When | entered the
coach a lady. the wife OF brave army Off
Ger, was already seated in 1t bound for some
place, / have forgotten just where. The
officer of my escort knew her, and, calling
her by name introduced me, saying, This
is Mrs. de Camp, who has just been rescued
from the Indians" do not know whether
she really understood or not, but she gave
one look at me, and | must admit | could
not have looked very pretty, aud then drew
her skirts away that they might not touch
me. Well / noticed it, but / was not caring
much for tritles just then, and it did not
bother me very much, but we had not gone
very far before this fastidiouS lady became
terribly seasick from the motion of the
coach. She declared she could not stand
the jolting, and besousht the officer TO pro-
cure her pickle or something to settle her
STOMACH from some one OF the houses we
passed. We were finally obliged to leave
her behind, as she could not endure the
hardshps Of the journey.
/ reached my old home in a day or two,
and then Mrs. Sweet added, referring for
the first time to the circumstance that lent
an additional horror to the whole terrible
narrative, month later my other baby
was born. 1t seemed almost incredible
that woman who had endured such expe-
fiences could live to tell the tale 80 years
later. AS Mrs. Sweet told the story, sitting
in the pleasant little parlor of her cottage
home, her listeners more than once shivered
with horror and glanced fearfully aoont,
half expecting some blo0dthlrsty Sioux to
appear upon the scene, but no such hap
pening occurred to mar the harmony OF the
hOIr.
Mrs. Sweet afterward became the wife OF
the chaplain who met her on her arrival at
Fort Ridgely. She Is again widow, and
despite the weight OF years that is beginning
to tell upon her is active and hearty, keeps
herself well posted on TOPICS of.the times,
and has greatmany more cheerful stories
to tell OF her long aud useful life than the
gruesome one outlined above.