 Chapter 17 of the Expedition of the Donner Party and its Tragic Fate. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Donna Stewart, Seattle, Washington. The Expedition of the Donner Party and its Tragic Fate by Eliza P. Donner-Houten, Chapter 17. Orphans, Keseberg and his accusers. Sensational accounts of the tragedy at Donner Lake. Property sold and guardian appointed. Kindly Indians. Grandpa. Marriage of Eliza. The report of our affliction spread rapidly and the well-meaning, tender-hearted women at the fort came to condole and weep with us and made their children weep also by urging, now do say something comforting to these poor little girls who were frozen and starved up in the mountains and are now orphans in a strange land without any home or anyone to care for them. Such ordeals were too overwhelming. I would rush off alone among the wildflowers to get away from the torturing sympathy. Even there, I met those who would look at me with great serious eyes, shake their heads and mournfully say, You poor little mite, how much better it would be if you had died in the mountains with your dear mother instead of being left alone to struggle in this wicked world. This would but increase my distress, for I did not want to be dead and buried up there under the cold deep snow and I knew that mother did not want me to be there either. Had she not sent me away to save me and asked God our Heavenly Father to take care of me? Intense excitement and indignation prevailed at the fort after Captain Fallon and other members of his party gave their account of the condition found at the mountain camps and of interviews had with Keserberg whom they now called cannibal, robber and murderer. The wretched man was accused by this party not only of having needlessly partaken of human flesh and of having appropriated coin and other property which should have come to us orphaned children, but also of having wantedly taken the life of Mrs. Murphy and of my mother. Some declared him crazy, others called him a monster. Keserberg denied these charges and repeatedly accused Fallon and his party of making false statements. He sadly acknowledged that he had used human flesh to keep himself from starving, but he swore that he was guiltless of taking human life. He stated that Mrs. Murphy had died of starvation soon after the departure of the Third Relief and that my mother had watched my father's bedside until he died. After preparing his body for burial she had started out on the trail to go to her children. In attempting to cross the distance from her camp to his she had strayed and wandered about far into the night and finally reached his cabin wet, shivering and grief-stricken yet determined to push onward. She had brought nothing with her but told him where to find the money to take to her children in the event of her not reaching them. He stated that he offered her food, which she refused. He then attempted to persuade her to wait until morning and while they were talking she sank upon the floor completely exhausted and he covered her with blankets and made a fire to warm her. In the morning he found her cold in death. Kazaburg's vehement and steadfast denial of the crimes which he stood accused of saved him from personal violence but not from suspicion and ill will. Women shunned him and children stoned him as he walked about the fort. The California Star printed in full the account of the Fallon Party and blood-curdling editorials increased public sentiment against Kazaburg, stamping him with a mark of cane and closing the door of every home against him. Elytha and Liana tried to keep us little ones in ignorance of the report that our father's body was mutilated, also of what was said about the alleged murder of our mother. Still we did hear fragments of conversations which greatly disturbed us and our sisters found it difficult to answer some of our questions. Meanwhile more disappointments for us were brewing at the fort. Fallon's party demanded an immediate settlement of its claim. It had gone up the mountains under promise that its members should have not only a per diem as rescuers but also one half of all the property that they might bring to the settlement and they had brought valuable packs from the camps of the Donners. Captain Fallon also had $225 in gold coin taken from concealment on Kazaburg's person and $275 additional taken from a cash that Kazaburg had disclosed after the captain had partially strangled him and otherwise brutally treated him to extort information of hidden treasure. Kazaburg did not deny that this money belonged to the Donners but asserted that it was his intention and desire to take it to the Donner children himself as he had promised their mother. Eventually it was agreed that the Donner properties would be sold at auction and that one half of the proceeds should be handed over to Captain Fallon to satisfy the claims of his party and the other half should be put into the hands of a guardian for support of the Donner children. Hyrum Miller was appointed guardian by Alcalde Sinclair. Notwithstanding these plans for our well-being, unaccountable delays followed, making our situation daily more trying. Elytha was not yet 15 years of age and Liana was two years younger. They had not fully recovered from the effects of their long privations and physical sufferings in the mountains and the loss of parents and means of support placed upon them responsibilities greater than they could carry no matter how bravely they strove to meet the situation. How can we provide for ourselves and these little sisters was a question which haunted them by night and perplexed them by day. They had no way of communicating with our friends in eastern states and the women at the fort could ill afford to provide longer for us since their breadwinners were still with Fremont and their own supplies were limited. Finally, my two eldest sisters were given employment by different families in exchange for food which they shared with us, but it was often insufficient and we little ones drifted along for lonely. Sometimes home was where night overtook us. Often we trudged to the rancheria beyond the pond made by the adobe molders who had built the houses and walls surrounding the fort. There the Indian mothers were good to us. They gave us shreds of smoked fish and dried acorns to eat. Lowered from their backs the queer little baby beds called becuses and made the chubby faces in them laugh for our amusement. They also let us pet the dogs that perked up their ears and wagged their tails as our own Uno used to do when he wanted to frolic. Sometimes they stroked our hair and rubbed the locks between their fingers then felt their own as if to note the difference. They seemed sorry because we could not understand their speech. The pond also with its banks of flowers winding path and dimpling waters had charms for us until one day's experience drove us from it forever. We three were playing near it when a joyous Indian girl with a bundle of clothes on her head ran down the bank to the water's edge. We, following, watched her drop her bundle near a board that sloped from a rock onto nature's tub. Then kneel upon the upper end and sauce the clothes merrily up and down in the clear water. She lathered them with a freshly gathered soap root and cleansed them according to the ways of the Spanish mission teachers. As she tied the wet garments in a bundle and turned to carry them to the drying ground, Francis aspired some loose yellow poppies floating near the end of the board and laid down upon it for the purpose of catching them. George and I saw her lean over and stretch out her hand as far as she could reach, saw the poppies dripped just beyond her fingertips, saw her lean a little farther, then slip head-first into the deep water. Such shrieks as terrified children give brought the Indian girl quickly to our aid. Like a flash she tossed the bundle from her head, sprang into the water, snatched Francis as she rose to the surface and restored her to us without a word. Before we had recovered sufficiently to speak she was gone. Not a soul was in sight when we started toward the fort, all unconscious of what the inevitable is to be was weaving into our lives. We were too young to keep track of time by calendar but counted it by happenings. Some were marked with tears, some with smiles, and some stole unawares upon us, just as on that bright June evening when we did not find our sisters and aimlessly followed others to the little shop where a friendly appearing elderly man was cutting slices of meat and handing them to customers. We did not know his name nor did we realize that he was selling the meat he handed out, only that we wanted some. So after all the others had gone we addressed him asking, Grandpa, please give us a little piece of meat. He looked at us and inquired whose children we were and where we lived. Upon learning he turned about, lifted a liver from a wooden peg and cut for each a generous slice. On our way out a neighbor intercepted us and said that we should sleep at her house that night and see our sisters in the morning. She also gave us permission to cook our pieces of liver over her bed of live coals. Francis offered to cook them all on her stick but Georgia and I insisted it would be fun for each to broil her own. I, being the smallest child, was given the shortest stick and allowed to stand nearest to the fire. Soon the three slices were sizzling and browning from the ends of three willow rods and smelled so good that we could hardly wait for them to be done. Presently however the heat began to burn my cheeks and also the hand that held the stick. The more I wiggled about the hotter the fire seemed and it ended in Francis having to fish my piece of liver from among the coals, burned in patches, curled over bits of dying embers and pretty well covered with ashes. But she knew how to scrape them away and my supper was not spoiled. Our neighbor gave us breakfast next morning and spruced us up a bit then led us to the house where a number of persons had gathered, most of them sitting at table laughing and talking and among them Elytha and Liana. Upon our entrance the merrymen ceased and all eyes were turned inquiringly toward us. Someone pointed to him who sat beside our elder sister and Galey said, Look at your new brother. Another asked, How do you like him? We gazed around in silent amazement until a third continued teasingly. She is no longer a life of Donner but Mrs. Perry McCoon. You have lost your sister for her husband will take her away with him. Lost your sister? Those harrowing words stirred our pent feelings to anguish so keen that he who had uttered them in sport was touched with pity by the pain they caused. Tears came also to the child wife's eyes as she clasped her arms about us soothingly assuring us that she was still our sister and would care for us. Nevertheless she and her husband slipped away soon on horseback and we were told that we were to stay at our neighbors until they returned for us. This merit which was solemnized by Alcalde Johnson-Claire on the 4th of June 1847 was approved by the people at the fort. Children were anxious to play with us because we had a married sister and a new brother. Women hurried through noon chores to meet outside and some in their eagerness forgot to roll down their sleeves before they began to talk. One triumphantly repeated to each newcomer the motherly advice which she gave the young couple when she first noticed his affection for that sorrowing girl who was too pretty to be in this new country without a protector. They also recalled how Perry McCoon's launch had brought supplies up the river for the second relief to take over the mountains and how finally he himself had carried to the bereaved daughter the last account from Donner Camp. Then the speakers wondered how soon Elytha would be back. Would she take us three to live with her upon that cattle ranch 25 miles by bridal trail from the fort? And would peace and happiness come to us there? End of Chapter 17 Recorded by Donna Stewart, Seattle, Washington Chapter 18 of the Expedition of the Donner Party and Its Tragic Fate This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org The Expedition of the Donner Party and Its Tragic Fate by Eliza P. Donner Houghton Chapter 18 Grandma, happy visits, a new home, and persuaded to leave it We were still without Elytha when up the road and toward the fort came a stout little old woman in brown. On one arm she carried a basket, and from the hand of the other a small covered tin pail. Her apron was almost as long as her dress skirt, which reached below her ankles, yet was short enough to show brown stockings above her low shoes. Two ends of the bright kerchief which covered her neck and crossed her bosom were pinned on opposite sides at the waistline. A brown quilted hood of the same shade and material as her dress and apron concealed all but the white lace frill of a grandma cap, which fastened under her chin with a bow. Her dark hair drawn down plain to each temple was coiled there into tiny wheels and a brass pin stuck through crosswise to hold each coil in place. Her bright speaking eyes, more brown than gray, gave charm to a face which might have been pretty, had disease not marred it in youth. As she drew near, her wonderful eyes looked into our faces and one from our lips a timid, good morning, grandma. That title which we had been taught to use when speaking to the aged was new and sweet to her, who had never been blessed with child. She set the basket on the ground, put the pail beside it and caressed us in a cheery way, then let us peep in and see what she had brought especially for us. How did it happen? This is something we were to learn later. Such luxuries, eggs, bread, butter, cheese and milk in the dear little tin pail. Seeing how thin and hungry we looked, she gave each a piece of buttered bread before going with us to our neighbor's house where she left the food with instructions in broken English that it was for us three little girls who had called her grandma and that we must not be given too much at a time. When next grandma came, she took puny Georgia home with her and left me hugging the promise that I also should have a visit if I would wait my turn patiently. Who can picture my delight when Georgia got back and told me of all she had seen? Cows, horses, pigs and chickens, but most thrilling of all was about the cross-old sheep which would not let her pass if she did not carry a big stick in sight. Still, I should not have been so eager to go, nor so gleeful on the way, had I known that the good-bye kiss I gave my sister Francis at parting that day would be the last kiss in five long years. Grandma was as happy as I. She could understand English better than she could speak it and in answering my questions explained largely by signs. Courage, her gray poodle, left deep footprints in the dust as he trotted ahead over the well-known road and I felt an increasing affection for him upon learning that he too had crossed the plains in an immigrant wagon and had reached the fort at about the same time I had reached the snow. He was so small that I imagined he must have been a wee baby dog when he started and that he was not yet half grown. My surprise and admiration quickened beyond expression when Grandma assured me that he could do many tricks, understood French and German, and was learning English. Then she laughed and explained that he was thus accomplished because she and Christian Brunner, her husband and Jacob, her brother-in-law, had come from a place far away across lands and big waters where most of the people spoke both French and German and that they had always talked to courage in one or the other of these languages. As soon as we got into the house she opened the back door and called, Jacob, then turning she took a small cup of rennet clabber from the shelf, poured a little cream over it, put a spoon in it, and set it on the table before me. While I was eating a pleasant elderly man came in and by nods, motions and words, partly English and partly something else, convinced me that he liked little girls and was glad to see me. Then, of a sudden, he clasped his hands about my waist and tossed me in the air as Father did before his hand was hurt and when he wanted to startle me and then hear me laugh. This act, which brought back loving memories, made Jacob seem nearer to me, nearer still when he told me I must not call him anything but Jakey. Everything about the house was as Georgia had described, even the big stick she had used to keep the old sheep from budding her over was behind the door where she had left it. When Christian Brunner got home from the fort, Grandma had supper nearly ready and he and I were friends the instant we looked into each other's faith, for he was the grandpa who had given us the liver the evening we did not find our sisters. He had gone home that night and said, Mary, at the fort are three hungry little orphan girls, take them something as soon as you can. One child is fair, two are dark. You will know them by the way they speak to you. Grandpa had now hastened home to hold me on his lap and to hear me say that I was glad to be at his house and intended to help Grandma all I could for being so good as to bring me there. After I told how we had cooked the liver and how good it tasted, he wiped his eyes and said, My child, when you little ones thanked me for that liver, it made me not so much your friend as when you called me Grandpa. As time went on, Grandma declared that I helped her a great deal because I kept her chip box full, chewed the hens out of the house and drove the little chicks to bed nights. I don't recollect that I was ever tired or sleepy, yet I know that the night must have sped between the time of my last nod at the funny shadow picture of a rabbit which Jakey made hop across the wall behind the lighted candle and courage as barking near my pillow which Grandma said meant. Good morning, little girl. It was after one of these reminders of a new day that I saw Liana. I don't know when or how she came, but I missed Francis and Georgia the more because I wanted them to share our comforts. Nevertheless a strange feeling of uneasiness crept over me as I noticed later that Grandpa lingered and that the three spoke long in their own tongue and glanced often toward me. Finally Grandpa and Jakey went off in the wagon and Grandma also disappeared but soon returned dressed for a trip to the fort and explained that she had heard that Georgia was sick and she would take me back and bring her in my place. I had known from the beginning that I was to stay only a little while yet I was woefully disturbed at having my enjoyment so abruptly terminated. My first impulse was to cry, but somehow the influence of her who under the sowing pines of the Sierras had told me that friends do not come quickly to a crybaby child gave me courage and I looked up into the dear old face before me and with the earnestness of an anxious child asked, Grandma, why can't you keep two of us? She looked at me, hesitated, then replied, I will see. She kissed away my fears and rode off on old Lisa. I did not know that she would ride farther than the fort and imagined that she had gone on horseback so that she might the easier bring back my little sister. Liana washed the dishes and did the other work before she joined me in watching for Grandma's return. At last she came in sight and I ran up the road craning my neck to see if Georgia were really behind on old Lisa's back and when I saw her pinched face aglow with smiles that were all for me I had but one wish and that was to get my arms around her. One chair was large enough to hold us both when we got into the house and the big clock on the wall with long waits reaching almost to the floor and red roses painted around its white face did not tick long before we were deaf to its sound telling each other about the doings of the day. She knew more than I who listened intently as she excitedly went on. Me and Francis started to find you this morning but we wasn't far when we met Jacob in the wagon and he stopped and asked us where we was going. We told him. Then he told us to get in by him. But he didn't come this way just drove down to the river and some men lifted us out and set us in a boat and commenced to paddle across the water. I knew that wasn't the way and I cried and cried as loud as I could cry and told them I wanted to go to my little sister Eliza and that I tipped the boat over if they did not take me back and one man said it's too bad it ain't right to part the two littlest ones and they told me if I'd sit still and stop crying they would bring me back with them by and by and that I should come to you and I minded. Then they take us to that house where we sleep under the carpet the night we didn't get to the fort. Don't you remember? Well lots of people was there and talked about us and about father and mother and waited for Grandma to come. Pretty soon Grandma come and everybody talked and talked and Grandma told them she was sorry for us and would take you and me if she could keep Liana to help her do the work. When I was coming away with Grandma Frances cried like everything. She said she wanted to see you and told the people mother said we should always stay together but they wouldn't let her come. They've give her to somebody else and now she is their little girl. We both felt sorry for Frances and wished we could know where she was and what she was doing. While we were talking Grandma kept busily at work and sometimes she wiped her face with the corner of her apron yet we did not think of her as listening nor of watching us nor would we ever have known it had we not learned it later from her own lips as she told others the circumstances which had brought us into her life. Some days later Georgia and I were playing in the backyard when Liana appeared at the door and called out in quick jubilant tones children run around to the front door and see who has come. True enough, hitched to a stake near the front door was a bay horse with white spots on his body and a white stripe down his face and tied to the pommel of his saddle was another horse with a side saddle on its back. It did not take us long to get into the house where we found Alitha and our new brother who had come to a range about taking us away with them. While Alitha was talking to Grandma and Liana Georgia stood listening but I sat on my new brother's knee and heard all about his beautiful spotted horse and a colt of the same colors. Alitha could not persuade Liana or Georgia to go with her nor was I inclined to do so when she and Grandma first urged me. But I began to yield and the former told me she was lonesome, wanted at least one little sister to live with her and that if I would be that one I should have a new dress and a doll with a face. Then my new brother settled the matter by saying listen to me, if you'll go you shall have the pinto colt that I told you about a little side saddle of your own and whenever you feel like it you can get on it and ride down to see all the folks. The prospects were so alluring that I went at once with Liana who was to get me ready for the journey. Liana did not share my enthusiasm. She said I was a foolish little thing and declared I would get lonesome on such a big place so far away. That the colt would kick me if I tried to go near it and that no one ever made saddles for colts. She was not so gentle as usual when she combed my hair and gave my face a right-hard scrubbing with a cloth and whey which Grandma bad her use because it makes the skin so nice and soft. Notwithstanding these discouragements I took my clothes which were tied up in a coloured handkerchief, kissed them all good-bye and rode away sitting behind my new brother on the spotted horse really believing that I should be back in a few days on a visit. End of Chapter 18 Chapter 19 of the Expedition of the Donner Party and its tragic fate This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Expedition of the Donner Party and its tragic fate by Eliza P. Donner-Houghton. Chapter 19 On a cattle ranch near the Kasumni River named Billy, Indian Grubfeast We left the fort and Grandma's house far behind and still rode on and on. The day was warm, the wildflowers were gone and the plain was yellow with ripening oats which rustled noisily as we passed through crowding and bumping their neighbourly heads together. Yet it was not a lonesome way for we passed elk, antelope and deer feeding with pretty little fawn standing close to their mother's sides. There were also sleek, fat cattle casting under the shade of live oak trees and great birds that sort around overhead casting their shadows on the ground. As we neared the river, smaller birds of brighter colours could be heard and seen in the trees along the banks where the water flowed between clear and cold. All these things my sister pointed out to me as we passed onward. It was almost dark before we came inside of the Adobe Ranch House. We were met on the road by a pack of Indian dogs, whose fierce looks and savage yelping made me tremble until I got into the house where they could not follow. The first weeks of my stay on the ranch passed quickly. Ilytha and I were together most of the time. She made my new dress and a doll which was perfection in my eyes, though its face was crooked and its penciled hair was more like pothooks than curls. I did not see much of her husband because in the mornings he rode away early to direct his Indian cattle herders at the rodeos or to oversee other ranch work and I was often asleep when he returned nights. The pinto colt he had promised me was as Liana had said, big enough to kick but too small to ride and I at once realised that my anticipated visits could not be made as planned. Occasionally men came on horseback to stay a day or two and before the summer was over a young couple with a small baby moved into one part of our house. We called them Mr. and Mrs. Packwood and Baby Packwood. The mother and child were company for my sister while the husbands talked continually of ranches, cattle, hides and tallow so I was free to roam around by myself. In one of my wanderings I met a sprightly little Indian lad whose face was almost as white as my own. He was clad in a blue and white shirt that reached below his knees. Several strings of beads were around his neck and a small bow and arrow in his hand. We stopped and looked at each other were pleased yet shy about moving onward or speaking. I, being the larger, finally asked, what's your name? To my great delight he answered, name Billy. While we were slowly getting accustomed to each other a good-natured elderly squaw passed. She wore a tattered petticoat and buttons, pieces of shell and beads of bird bones dangled from a string around her neck. A band of buckskin covered her forehead and was attached to strips of raw hide which held in place the watertight basket hanging down her back. Billy now left me for her and I followed the two to that part of our yard where the tall ash hopper stood which ever after was like a storybook to me. The squaw set the basket on the ground reached up and carefully lifted from a board laid across the top of the hopper several pans of clabbered milk which she poured into the basket. Instead of putting the pans back she tilted them up against the hopper squatted down in front and with her slim forefinger scraped down the sides and bottom of each pan so that she and Billy could scoop up and convey to their mouths by means of their three crooked fingers all that had not gone into the basket. Then she licked her improvised spoon clean and dry turned her back to her burden replaced the band on her forehead and with the help of her stick slowly raised herself to her feet and quietly walked away. Billy after her. Next day I was on watch early. My kind friend the chore man let me go with him when he carried the lie from the hopper to the soap fat barrel. Then he put more ashes on the hopper and set the pans of milk in place for the evening call of Billy and his companion. He pointed out the rancheria by the river where the Indian herders lived with others of their tribe among them Billy and his mother. He also informed me that the squaws took turns in coming for the milk and that Billy came as often as he got the chance. That he was a nice little fellow who had learned a few English words from his white papa who had gone off and left him. Billy and I might never have played together as we did if my brother-in-law had not taken his wife to San Francisco and left me in the care of Mr. and Mrs. Packwood. Their chief aim in life was to please their baby. She was a dear little thing when awake but the house had to be kept very still and they would raise a hand and say hush as they left me and together tiptoe to the cradle to watch her smile in her sleep. I had their assurance that they would like to let me hold her if her little bones were not so soft that I might break them. They were never unkind or cross to me. I had plenty to eat and clean clothes to wear but they did not seem to realize how I yearned for someone to love. Mr. Chorman he told me about the antelope that raced across the ranch before I was up of the elk, deer, bear and buffalo he had shot in his day and of beaver, otter and other animals that he had trapped along the rivers and tranced with his tails I became as excited as he while listening to the dangers he had escaped. One day he showed me a little chair which I declared was the cunningest thing I had ever seen. It had a high straight back just like those in the house only that it was smaller. The seat was made of strips of raw hide woven in and out so that it looked like patchwork squares. He let me sit on it and say how beautiful it was before telling me that he had made it all for me. I was so delighted that I jumped up clasped it in my arms and looked at him in silent admiration. I do not believe that he could understand how rich and grateful I felt although he shook his head saying, you are not a bit happier than I was while making it for you, nor can you know how much good it does me to have you around. Gradually Billy spent more time near the ranch house and learned many of my kind of words and I picked up some of his. Before long he discovered that he could climb up on the hopper and then he helped me up. But I could not crook my fingers into as good a spoon as he did his and he got more milk out of the pan than I. We did not think anyone saw us yet the next time we climbed up we found two old spoons stuck in a crack in plain sight. After we got through using them I wiped them on my dress skirt and put them back. Later I met Mr. Chorman who told me that he had put the spoons there because I was too nice a little girl to eat as Billy did or to dip out of the same pan. I was ashamed and promised not to do so again nor to climb up there with him. As time passed I watched wistfully for my sister's return and thought a great deal about the folks at Grandmas. I tried to remember all that had happened while I was there and felt sure they were waiting for me to pay the promised visit. A great longing often made me rush out behind a large tree near the river where no one could see or hear me feel sorry for myself and where I would wonder if God was taking care of the others and did not know where I lived. I still feel the wondrous thrill and bid my throbbing heart beat slower when I recall the joy that tingled through every part of my being on that evening when unexpectedly Liana and Georgia came to the door. Yet so short lived was that joy that the event has always seemed more like a disquieting dream than a reality, for they came at night and were gone in the morning and left me sorrowing. A few months ago I wrote to Georgia now Mrs. Babcock who lives in the state of Washington for her recollections of that brief reunion and she replied, Before we went to Sonoma with Grandma in the fall of 1847 Liana and I paid you a visit. We reached your home at dusk. Mr. McCoon and Alitha were not there. We were so glad to meet but our visit was too short. You and I were given a cup of bread and milk and sent to bed. Liana ate with the grown folks who upon learning that we had only come to say goodbye told her we must for your sake get away before you awoke in the morning. We arose and got started early but had only gone a short distance when we heard your pitiful cry begging us to take you with us. Liana hit her face and her apron while the man caught you and carried you back. I think she cried all the way home. It was so hard to part from you. Mr. Packwood carried me into the house and both he and his wife felt sorry for me. My head ached and tears would come as often as anyone looked at me. Mrs. Packwood wet a piece of brown paper laid it on my forehead and bade me lie on my bed until I should feel better. I could not eat or play and even Mr. Chorman's bright stories had lost their charm. Come, look! See, squaw, papoose! Me go! You go! exclaimed Billy excitedly one soft grey morning after I had regained my spirits. I turned in the direction he pointed and saw quite a number of squaws trudging across an open flat with babies in becuses and larger children scampering along at various paces, most of them carrying baskets. With Mrs. Packwood's permission Billy and I sped away to join the line. I had never been granted such a privilege before and had no idea what it all meant. As we approached the edge of the marsh the squaws walked more slowly with their eyes fixed upon the ground. Every other moment some of them would be down, digging in the earth with four finger or a little stick, and I soon learned they were gathering bulbs about a quarter of an inch in thickness and as large around as the smaller end of a woman's thimble. I had seen the plants growing near the pond at the fort but now the bulbs were ripe and were being gathered for winter use. In accordance with the tribal custom a bulb was eaten during harvest time. They grew so far apart and were so small that it took a long while to make a fair showing in the baskets. When no more bulbs could be found the baskets were put on the ground in groups and the mothers carefully leaned their becuses against them in such positions that the wide awake papusas could look out from under their shades and smile and sputter at each other in quaint Indian baby talk that sleeping could sleep on undisturbed. That done the squaws built a roaring fire and one of them untied a bundle of hardwood sticks which she had brought for the purpose and stuck them around under the fuel in touch with the hottest parts of the burning mass. When the ends glowed like long lasting coals the waiting crowds snatched them from their bed and rushed into the low thicket which grew in the marsh. Their brand, but not knowing what to do with it, simply watched the Indians stick theirs into the bushes sometimes high up, sometimes low down. I saw them dodge about and heard their shouts of warning and their peels of laughter. Then myriads of hornets came buzzing and swarming about. This frightened me so that I ran back to where the brown babies were cooing in safety. Empty-handed but happy they at length returned and though I could not understand anything they were saying their looks and actions betokened what a good time they had had. Years later I described the scene to Elytha who assured me that I had been highly favored by those Indians for they had permitted me to witness their annual grub feast. The Paiutes always used burning faggots to drive hornets and other stinging insects from their nests and they also used heat home cells so that they can easily remove the larvae which they eat without further preparation. With the first cold snaps of winter my feet felt the effect of former frost bites and I was obliged to spend most of my time within doors. Fortunately Baby Packwood had grown to be quite a frolicsome child. She was fond of me and her bones had hardened so that there was no longer danger of my breaking them so I lifted her or held her on my lap. Her mother had also discovered that I was anxious to be helpful, pleased when given something to do, and proud when my work was praised. I was quite satisfied with my surroundings when, unexpectedly, Mr. McCoon brought my sister back and once more we had happy times together. End of chapter 19 CHAPTER 20 The Expedition of the Donner Party and Its Tragic Fate This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Donna Stewart, Seattle, Washington The Expedition of the Donner Party and Its Tragic Fate by Eliza P. Donner-Houten Chapter 20 I returned to Grandma, war-rumors at the Fort, lingering hope that my mother might be living, an Indian convoy, the Bruners and their home. The spring of 1848 was at hand when my brother-in-law said to me Grandma Bruner wants you to come back to her and if you would like to go I'll take you to the Fort as soon as the weather changes and leave you with the people who are getting ready to move north and are willing to take you with them to Sonoma where Grandma now lives. The storm was not over but the day was promising when my bundle of clothes was again on the pommel of the saddle and I was ready to begin my journey. I was so excited that I could hardly get around to say goodbye to those who had gathered to see me off. We returned by the same route that we had followed out on that warm June day but everything seemed different. The catkins on the willows were forming and the plain was green with young grass. As we near the Fort we passed a large camp of fine-looking Indians who, I was told, were the friendly Walla Wallas that came every spring to trade ponies and otter and beaver skins with Captain Sutter for provisions, blankets, beads, gun caps, shot and powder. A large immigrant wagon stood near the Adobe House where my new brother-in-law drew rain. Before dismounting he reached back, took me by the arm and carefully supported me as I slid from the horse to the ground. I was so stiff that I could hardly stand but he led me to the door where we were welcomed by a good-natured woman to whom he said, Well, Mrs. Lennox, you see I brought the little girl. I don't think she'll be much trouble if she talks you to death. Then he told her that I had during the ride asked him more questions than a man six times his size could answer. But she laughed and loud that I couldn't match either of her three boys in asking questions and then informed him that she did not calculate on making a move till the roads be drier than the weather settled. She promised, however, that I should have good care until I could be handed to the brooners. After a few words with her in private Perry McCoon bad me good-bye and passed out of my life forever. I was now again with immigrants who had crossed the plains in 1846 but who had followed the Fort Hall route and so escaped the misfortunes that befell the Donner Party. Supper over, Mrs. Lennox made me a bed on the floor in the far corner of the room. I must have fallen asleep and touched the pillow for I remember nothing more until I was awakened by voices and saw the candle still burning and Mrs. Lennox and two men and a woman sitting near the table. The man speaking had a shrill voice and his words were so terrifying that I shook all over. My hair felt as though what were trying to pull itself out by their roots a cold sweat dampened my clothes. I was afraid to move or to turn my eyes. I tried to remember how many Indians he was talking about. I knew it must be a great many for it was such a long word. After they went away and the house was dark I still seemed to see his excited manner and to hear him say, Mrs. Lennox, we gotta get out of here right away for I heard tell at the store before I come up that there's bound to be an engine outbreak. Them savages from Sonora are already on their way up and they'll kill and scalp every man, woman and child they can catch and there's nothing to keep them from catching us if we stay at this here little fort any longer. I lay awake a long while. I did not dare call out because I imagine some of those Indians might have got ahead of the rest and be sneaking up to our house at that very moment. I wondered where I could hide if they should climb through the window and I felt that Georgia would never know what have become of me if they should kill and scalp me. As soon as Mrs. Lennox stirred in the morning I heard a good cry. She threatened all sorts of things for the man that had caused me so much torture and declared that he believed everything he heard. He did not seem to remember how many hundred miles away Sonora was nor how many loaded cannon there were at the fort. I felt better satisfied however when she told me that she had made up her mind to start for Sonoma the next day. After breakfast her younger boys wanted to see the Walla Wallas and took me along. A cold breath from the Sierra Nevada made me look up and shiver. Soon Captain Sutter and Kern passed us, the former on his favorite white horse and the latter on a dark bay. I was delighted to catch a glimpse of those two good friends but they did not know it. They had been to see the Indian ponies and before we got to the big gate they had gone in and the Walla Wallas were forming a line on both sides of the road between the gate and the front of the store. Only two Indians at a time were allowed to enter the building and as they were slow in making their trades we had a good chance to see them all. The men, the boys and most of the women were dressed in fringed buckskin suits and their hands and faces were painted red as the Sioux warriors of Fort Laramie painted their cheeks. The Lennox boys took greatest interest in the little fellows with the bows and arrows but I could not keep my eyes from the young princess who stood beside her father, the chief. She was all shimmering with beads. They formed flowers on her moccasins fringed the outer seams of her dough-skin trousers and the hem of her tunic formed a stripe around her armholes and her belt, glittered on a band which held in place the eagle plume in her hair, dangled from her ears and encircled her neck and arms. Yet she did not seem to wear one too many. She looked so winsome and picturesque that I have never forgotten a laughing, pretty picture. We started back over ground where my little sisters and I had wandered the previous spring. The people whom I remembered had since gone to other settlements and strangers lived in the old huts. I could not help looking in as we passed for I still felt that mother might not be dead. She might have come down the mountain alone as I could find her. The boys, not knowing why I lagged behind, tried to hurry me along and finally left me to go home by myself. This, not from unkindness but rather love of teasing and also oblivion of the vain hope I cherished. Mrs. Lennox let me dry the dishes for her after the noon meal then sent me to visit the neighbor in the next house while she should stow her things in the wagon and get ready for the journey. I loved this lady in the next house as soon as she spoke to me and I was delighted with her baby who reached out his little arms to have me take him and raised his head for me to kiss his lips. While he slept his mother sewed and talked with me. She had known my parents on the plains and now let me sit at her feet giving me her work box that I might look at its bobbins of different colored thread and the pretty needle book. When I told her that the things looked better and that sometimes mother would let me take the tiniest bit of her wax she gave me permission to take a tiny taste of that which I held in my hand to see if it was like that which I remembered. Only she, the baby and I sat down to tea yet she said she was glad she had company for baby's papa was away with Captain Fremont and she was lonesome. After I learned that she would have to stay until I came back I was troubled and told what I had heard in the night. She assured me that those in charge of the fort heard every day all that was going on for miles and miles around and that if they should learn that fighting Indians were coming they would take all the white people and the good Indians to the fort and then shoot the bad ones with the cannon that peeped through its embrasures. The dainty meal and her motherly talk kept me a happy child until I heard the footsteps of the Lennox boys. I knew they were coming for me and that I should have to sleep in that dark room where I had been so afraid. Quickly slipping from my chair under the table and hiding behind my new friend's dress skirt I begged her not to let them know where I was and pleased to let me stay with her all night. I listened as she sent the boys back to tell their mother that she would keep me until morning adding that she would step in and explain matters to the baby to bed. Before I went to sleep she heard me say my prayers and kiss me good night. When I awoke next morning I was not in her house but in Mrs. Lennox's wagon on the way to Sonoma. The distance between the fort and Sonoma was only about 80 miles yet the heavy roads and the frequent showers kept us on the journey more than a week. It was still drizzling when we reached where the foreigners lived. I had been told that they would be looking for me and I expected to go to them at once. As we approached the west bank of the creek which winds south past the town we could see the branches on the trees in Grandma's doryard swaying yet we could not reach there because a heavy mountain storm had turned a torrent into the creek channel washed away the footbridge and overflowed the low land. Disappointed we encamped to wait for the waters to recede. Toward evening Jakey gathering his cows on the opposite side noticed our immigrant wagon and oxen and as he drew nearer recognized Mrs. Lennox both signaled from where they stood and soon he decried me anxious to go to him. He also was disappointed at the enforced delay and returned often to cheer us and to note the height of the water. It seemed to me that we had been there days and days when a mission Indian on a grey pony happened to come our way and upon learning what was wanted signaled that he would carry me over for a Mexican silver dollar. Jakey immediately drew the coin from his pocket and held it between thumb and forefinger high above his head in the sunshine to show the native that his price would be paid. Quickly the Indian dismounted looked his pony over carefully cinched the blanket on tighter led him to the water's edge and turned to me. I shuddered and when all was ready drew near the deep flowing current tremblingly yet did not hesitate for my loved ones were beyond and to reach them I was willing to venture. The Indian mounted and I was placed behind him. By sign he warned me not to loosen my hold lest I like the passing branches should become the water's prey. With my arms clasped tightly about his dusky form and his elbows clamped over them we entered the stream. I saw the water's surge up around us felt it splash over me oh how cold it was I held my breath as we reached the deepest part and in dread clung closer to the form before me. We were going downstream drifting past where Jakey stood. How could I know that we were heading for the safe slope up the bank where we landed? The Indian took his dollar with a grunt of satisfaction and Jakey bad me wave to the friends I had left behind as he put me on old Lisa's back and hurried off to Grandma, Leanna and Georgia waiting at the gate to welcome me home. Georgia had a number of patches of Calico and other trinkets which she had collected for me and offered them as soon as we had exchanged greetings then eagerly conducted me about the place. Grandma was more energetic and busier than at the fort and I could only talk with her as she worked but there was so much to see and hear that before nightfall my feet were heavy and my brain was weary. However a good sleep under the roof of those whom I loved was all the tonic I needed to prepare me for a fair start in the new career and Grandma's assurance this be your home so long as you be good filled me with such gladness that childlike I promised to be good always and to do everything that should be required of me. Most of the immigrants in and around the Pueblo of Sonoma were Americans from the western frontiers of the United States they had reached the province in the summer or early autumn of 1846 and for safety had settled near this United States Army post. Here they had bought land and made homes within neighboring distance of each other and begun life anew in simple happy pioneer fashion. The brooners were a different type they had immigrated from Switzerland and settled in New Orleans, Louisiana when young and by toil and economy had saved the snug sum of money which they had brought to invest in California enterprises they could speak and read French and German and had some knowledge of figures. Being skilled in the preparation of all the delicacies of the meat market and the products of the dairy they had brought across the plains the necessary equipment for both branches of business and had already established a butcher shop in the town and a dairy on the farm less than a mile from it. Jakey was busy and useful at both places but Grandpa was the owner and grandma of the dairy. Her hand had the cunning of the Swiss cheese maker and the deafness of the artist in butter molding she was also an experienced cook and had many household commodities usually unknown to pioneer homes. They were thus eminently fitted for life in a crude new settlement and occupied an important place in the community. A public road cut their land into two unequal parts. The cattle corrals and sheds were grouped on one side of the road and the family accommodations on the other. Three magnificent oaks and a weird blackened tree trunk added picturesqueness to the ground upon which the log cabin and outbuilding stood. The trim live oak shaded the adobe milk room and smokehouse while the grand old white oak spread its far reaching boughs over the curbed well and front door yard. The log cabin was a substantial three-roomed structure. Its two outer doors opened with latch strings and were sawed across just above the middle so that the lower sections might be kept closed against the straying pigs and fowls while the upper part remained open to help the windows opposite give light and ventilation. The east end formed the ample storeroom with shelves for many stages of ripening cheese. The west end served as sleeping apartment for all except the large middle room was set apart as kitchen and general living room. Against its wall were braced the dear old clock and conveniences for holding dishes and the few keepsakes which had shared the wanderings of their owners on two continents. The adobe chimney which formed part of the partition between the living and the sleeping apartment gave a huge fireplace to each. From the side of the one that cheered the living room swung a crane worthy of the great copper cheese kettle that hung on its arm in tidy rows on the chimney shelf stood bottles and boxes of medicine two small brass kettles and six bright candlesticks with hoods, trays and snuffers to match. On the wide hearth beneath were ranged the old fashioned three legged iron pots dominated by the large round one used as a bake oven. Hovering over the fire sat the iron tea kettle with its slender throat and pointed lips now warmed to song by the blazing logs now rattling its lid with increasing fervor. A long table with rough redwood benches around it a few straight-backed chairs against the wall and Jakey's half concealed bed in the far corner constituted the visible furnishings of this memorable room which was so spic and span in German order and cleanliness that even its floor had to be sprinkled in regular spots and rings before being swept. It was under the great oaks that most of the morning work was done. There the pales and pans were washed and sunned, the meats chopped, the sausage made, head cheese molded, ham and bacon salted and the lord tried out over the outdoor fires. Among those busy scenes Georgia and I spent many happy hours and learned some of our hardest lessons, for to us were assigned regular tasks and we were also expected to do the countless little errands which save steps to grown people and are supposed not to tire the feet of children. Grandma, stimulated by the success of her mixing and molding and elated by the profit she saw in it, was often too happy and bustling to remember how young we were or that we got tired or tired of the stories of our own to bear. Our small troubles however were soon forgotten when we could slip away for a while to the lovely playhouse which Leanna had secretly made for us in an excavation in the backyard. There we forgot work, used our own language and played like other children for we owned the beautiful cupboard dug in the wall and the pieces of delft and broken glass set in rows upon the shelves also the furniture made of stumps and blocks of wood and the two bottles standing behind the brush barricade to act as sentries in case of danger during our absence. One stolen visit to that playhouse led me into such disgrace that Grandma did not speak to me the rest of the day and told J.K. all about it. In the evening when no one else was near he called me to him. I obeyed downcast head putting his hand under my chin and turning my face up. He made me look straight into his eyes as he asked. Who broke that glass cupboard Grandma left on the dinner table full of milk and tell you watch it bis Hendrik come home to his dinner or beshibe me done mit an nap. I tried to turn my eyes down but he would not let me and I faltered the chicken knocked it off but he left the door open again. Then he raised his other hand shook his finger and in awe inspiring tone continued. Yes I be sure the chicken do that but what for you tell Grandma that Hendrik do that there a devil makes people tell lies and then he catches for his fire and he will catch you if you do that some more. God who you mother tell you about will not love you. I will not love you if you do that I be sorry for you because I thought you was his little girl and mine little girl. Jakey must have spent much time in collecting so many English words and they were effective for before he got through repeating them to me I was as heart sore and penitent as a child could be. After he had forgiven me he sent me to Grandma later to acknowledge my wrong to Hendrik and before I slept I had to tell God what a bad child I had been and ask him to make me good. I had promised to be very careful and to try never to tell another lie and I had been unhappy enough to want to keep the promise but alas my sympathy for Jakey led me into more trouble and it must have been on a Sunday too for he was not working but sitting reverently under the tree with his elbows upon a table and his cheeks resting in the hollows before him lay the holy scriptures from which he was slowly reading aloud in solemn tones Georgia and I standing a short distance from him listened very intently not hearing a single English word and not understanding many of the German I became deeply concerned and turning to her asked aren't you awful sorry for poor Jakey there he is reading to God in German and God can't understand him I'm afraid Jakey won't go to heaven if he dies my wise little sister turned upon me indignantly assuring me that God sees everybody and understands everybody's talk to prove the truth of her statement she rushed to the kitchen and appealed to grandma who not only confirmed Georgia's words but asked me what right I had to believe that God was American only and could not understand good German people when they read and spoke to him she wanted to know if I was not ashamed to think that they who had loved me and been kind to me would not go to heaven as well as I who had come to them a beggar then she sent me away by myself to think of my many sins and I weeping accepted banishment from Georgia lest she should learn wickedness from me Georgia was greatly disturbed on my account because she believed I had willfully misrepresented God and that he might not forgive me when Jakey learned what had happened he declared that I had spoken like a child and needed instruction more than punishment so for the purpose of broadening my religious views and keeping before me the fact that God can do all things and knows all languages grandma taught me the Lord's prayer in French and German and heard me repeated each night languages after I had said it as taught me by my mother it was about this time that Leanne confided to me that she was homesick for Elitha and she would go to her very soon she said that I must not object when the time came for she loved her own sister as much as I did mine and was as anxious to go to Elitha as I had been to come to Georgia she had been planning several weeks and knew of a family with which she could travel to Sutter's Fort later when she collected her things to go away she left with us a pair of beautifully knit black silk stockings marked near the top in fine cross stitch in white D and under that five the stockings had been our mothers she had knit them herself and worn them Georgia gave one to me and kept the other we both felt they were almost too sacred to handle they were our only keepsakes later Georgia found a small tin box in which mother had kept important papers recently when referring to that circumstance Georgia said Grandma for a long time had used it for a white sugar box and kept it on a shelf so high that we could see it only when she lifted it down and I don't think we took our eyes from it until it was put back it was too valuable for us ever to own one day I found it thrown away one side had become unsoldered from the ends and the bottom also was hanging loose with a full heart I grasped the treasure and put it where we could often see it long afterwards Harry Hough kindly offered to repair it and the solder that still holds it together is also regarded as a keepsake from a dear friend end of chapter 20 recorded by Donna Stewart Seattle Washington chapter 21 of the expedition of the Donner Party and its tragic fate this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Donna Stewart Seattle Washington the expedition of the Donner Party and its tragic fate by Eliza P. Donner-Houten chapter 21 moral discipline the historical Pueblo of Sonoma sugar plums Grandma often declared that she loved me and did not want to be too severe but for fear that I had learned much wickedness from the little Indians with whom I had played after I left her at the fort she should watch me very closely herself and also have George to tell her whenever she should see me do wrong consequently for a while after I reached Sonoma I was frequently on the penitential bench and was as often punished for fancied misdoings as for real ones yet I grant that Grandma was warranted in being severe the day she got back from town before I was ready for her she had left us with the promise that she would bring us something nice if we would be good children and do certain work that she had planned after we had finished the task we both became restless wondered how soon she would be back and what we could do next to keep from being lonesome then I aspired on the upper shelf the cream colored sugar bowl with the old fashioned red roses and black foliage on its cover and sides Grandma had occasionally given us lumps of sugar out of it and now I asked Georgia if I hadn't better get it down so that we could each have a lump of sugar hesitatingly she said no, I'm afraid you will break it and I assured her that I would be very careful and at once set a chair in place and climbed up it was quite a strain to reach the bowl so I lifted it down and rested it on the lower shelf expecting to turn and put it into Georgia's hands but somehow before I could do this the lid slipped off and lay in two pieces on the floor Georgia cried out reproachfully there, you know I didn't want you to do it and now you will get a good whipping for breaking Grandma's best sugar bowl I replied loftily that I was not afraid because I would ask God to mend it for me she did not think he would do it so I matched the broken edges and put it on the chair knelt down before it and said please when I made my request I touched the pieces very carefully and pleaded more earnestly each time I found them unchanged finally Georgia watching at the door said excitedly here comes Grandma I arose so disappointed and chagrined that I scarcely heard her as she entered and spoke to me I fully believed that he would have mended that cover if she had remained away a little longer nevertheless I was so indignant at him for being so slow about it that I stood unabashed while Georgia told all that had happened the whipping I got did not make much impression but the after-talks and the banishment from good company were terrible later when I was called from my hiding place Grandma saw that I had been very miserable and she insisted upon knowing what I had been thinking about then I told her reluctantly that I had talked to God and told him I did not think he was a very good heavenly father or he would not let me get into so much trouble that I was mad at him and didn't believe he knew how to mend dishes she covered her face with her apron and told me sobbingly that she had expected me to be sorry for getting down her sugar ball and for breaking its cover that I was so bad that I would surely put poor Grandma's gray hair in her grave who had got one foot there already and the other on the brink this increased my wretchedness and I begged her to live just a little longer so that I might show her that I would be good she agreed to give me another trial and ended by telling me about the beautiful wicked angel who had been driven out of paradise and spends his time coaxing people to be bad and then remembers them and after they die takes them on his fork and pitches them back and forth in his fire Jakey had told me his name and also the name of his home toward evening my head ached and I felt so ill that I crept close to Grandma and asked her sorrowfully if she thought the devil might have me die that night and then take me to his hell at a glance she saw that I suffered and drew me to her pillowed my head against her bosom and soothingly assured me that I would be forgiven if I would make friends with God and remember the lesson that I had learned that day she told me later I must never say devil or hell because it was not nice in little girls but that instead I might use the words blackman and blackman's fires at first I did not like to say it that way because I was afraid that the beautiful devil might think I was calling him nicknames and get angry with me notwithstanding my shortcomings the brooners were very willing to keep me and strove to make a Schweitzer child of me dressed me in clothes modeled after those in the war when she was small and by verse and legend filled my thoughts with pictures of their Alpine country I liked the German language, learned it rapidly and soon could help to translate orders. Those which pleased Grandma Best were from the homes of Mr. Jacob Lees, Captain Fitch, Major Prudon and General Vallejo, for their patronage influenced other distinguished Spanish families at a distance to send for her excellent cheese and fancy pats of butter. Yet with equal nicety she filled the orders that came from the mess room of the officers of our own brave boys in blue and always tried to have a better kerchief and apron on the evenings that officers and orderlies wrote out to pay the bills. Visitors felt more than a passing interest in us too little ones for accounts of the sufferings of the Donner Party had been carried to all settlements on the Pacific Coast and had been to print or writings to all parts of the United States as a warning against further emigration to California by way of the Hastings Cut-Off. Thus the name we bore awakened sympathy for us and in the huts of the lowly natives as well as in the homes of the rulers of the province we found welcome and were greeted with words of tenderness which were often followed by prayers for the repose of the souls of our precious dead. Intentions were also shown us by officers and soldiers from the post. The latter gathered in the evenings at the Brunner Home for social intercourse. Some played cards, checkers or dominoes or talked and sang about this Deutsche Watterland. Others reviewed happenings in our own country, recalled battles fought and victories won and we sitting between our foster grandparents or beside Jakey listening to their thrilling tales were unwittingly crammed with crumbs of truth and fiction that made lasting impressions upon our minds. Nor were these odd bits of knowledge all we gained from those soldier friends. They taught us the alphabet, how to spell easy words and then to form letters with pencil. They explained the meaning of fife and drum calls which we heard during the day and in mischievous earnestness declared that they, the best fighters of Colonel Stevenson's famous regiment of New York Volunteers, had pledged their arms and legs to our defence and had only come to see if we were worth the price they might have to pay. Yet they made grim faces when all too soon the retreat call from the barracks sounded and away they would have to go on double quick to be at post by the time of roll call and in bed at sound of taps. On those evenings when Grandma visited the sick or went home on errands, we children were tucked away early in our trundle bed. There and by ourselves we spoke of mother and the mountains. Not infrequently however our thoughts would be recalled to the present by loud wailing squeak-squawks, squeak-squawks. As the sound drew nearer and became shriller we would put our fingers in our ears to muffle the dismal tones which we knew were only the creakings of the two wooden wheels of some Mexican carretta, laboriously bringing passengers to town or perhaps a cruder one carrying hides to the embarkadero or possibly supplies to adjacent ranchos. We wondered how old people and mothers with sick children could travel in such uncomfortable vehicles and not become distracted by their nerve-piercing noises. Then, like a bird song pleasanter scenes would steal in upon our musings of gay horseback parties on their way to church feasts or fandangos preceded or followed by servants in charge of pack animals laden with luggage. We rarely stayed awake long enough to say all we wished about the Spanish people. Their methods of travel, modes of dress and fascinating manners were sources of never-ending discussion and interest. We had seen princely dawns of many leagues ride by in state, bashing caballeros resplendent in costumes of satin and velvet on their way to sing beneath the windows of dark-eyed señoritas and had stood close enough to the wearers of embroidered and lace-bedect small clothes to count the scallops which closed the seams of their outer garments and to hear the faint tinkle of the tiny silver bells which dangled from them. We had feasted our eyes on magnificently robed señores and señoritas caught the scent of the roses twined in their hair and the flash of jewels on their persons. Such frequent object lessons made the names and surroundings of those grandees easy to remember. Some lived leagues distant. Some were near neighbors in that typical Mexican pueblo of Sonoma whose adobe walls and red-tiled roofs nestled close to the foot of the dimpled hills overlooking the valley from the north and whose historic and romantic associations were connected with distinguished families who still called it home. Foremost among the men was General Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo by whom Sonoma was founded in 1834 upon ground which had twice been consecrated to mission use. First by Padre Altamera who had in 1823 established there the church and mission building of San Francisco Solano. And four years later after hostile Indians had destroyed the sacred structures Padre Fortuna under protection of Presidio Golden Gate blessed the ashes and rebuilt the church and parochial houses named last on the list of the historic missions of California. The Vallejo home covered the largest plot of ground on the north side of the plaza and the house had a hospitable air despite its lofty watch tower begrimed by sentry holes overlooking every part of the valley. During the period that its owner was comandante of the northern frontier the Vallejo home was headquarters for high officials of the province. But after Commodore Slote raised the stars and stripes at Monterey General Vallejo espoused the cause of the United States of his Spanish exclusiveness and opened his doors to Americans as graciously as to friends of his own nationality. A historic souvenir greatly prized by Americans in town and valley was the flagpole which in Sonoma's infancy had been hewn from the distant mountain forest and brought down on pack animals by mission Indians under General Vallejo's direction. It originally stood in the center of the plaza where it was planted with sacred ceremonials and where amid ringing cheers of Viva Mexico it first flung to the breeze that country's symbolic banner of green, white and red. Through ten fitful years it loyally waved those colors then followed its brief humiliation by the bear flag episode and early redemption by order of Commodore Slote who sent thither an American flag bearer to invest it with the stars and stripes. Thereafter a patriotic impulse suggested its removal to the parade ground of the United States Army post and as Spanish residents looked upon it as a thornful reminder of lost power. They felt no regret when Uncle Sam's boys transplanted it to new environments and made it an American feature by adoption. But the Mexican landmark which appealed to me most pathetically was the quaint rustic belfry which stood solitary in the open space in front of the mission buildings. Its strong columns were the trunks of trees that looked as though they might have grown there for the purpose of shouldering the heavy crossbeams from which the chimes hung. Its smooth timbers had been laboriously hewn by hand as must be the case in a land where there are no sawmills. The parts that were not bound together by the rawhide were held in place by wooden pegs. The strips of rawhide attached to the clappers dropped low enough for me to reach and often tempted me to make the bells speak. Mission Padres no longer dwelt in the buildings but shepherds from distant folds came monthly to administer to the needs of this consecrated flock. Then the many bells would call the faithful to Mass and to Vespers or chime for the wedding to the favored sons and daughters. Part of them would jingle merrily for notable christenings but only one would toll when death whitened the lips of some distinguished victim and again while the blessed body was being born to its last resting place. During one of my first trips to town Jakey and I were standing by Grandpa's shop on the east side of the plaza when suddenly those bells rang out clear and sweet and we saw the believing glide out of their homes in every direction and wend their way to the church. The high-born ladies had put aside their jewels, their gorgeous silks and satins and dawned the simpler garb prescribed for the season of fasts and prayer. Those to the manner born wore the picturesque robosa of fine lace or gauzy silk draped over the head and about the shoulders while those of humbler station made the shawl serve in place of the robosa. The Indian servants who with mats and kneeling cushions followed their mistresses wore white chemises, bright-colored petticoats and handkerchiefs folded three-corner-wise over the head and knotted under the chin. The costumes of the young girls were modeled after those of their mothers and the little ladies appeared as demure and walked as stately as their elders. The gentlemen also were garbed in plainer costumes than there won't and for custom's sake rode on horseback even the short distances which little children walked. The town seemed deserted and the church filled as we started homeward, I skipping ahead until we reached a shop window where I waited for Jakey and asked him if he knew what those pretty little things were that I saw on a shelf in big short-necked glass jars. Some were round and had little stickers all over them and others looked like bird's eggs, pink, yellow, white and violet. He told me the round ones were sugar plums and the egg-shaped had each an almond nut under its bright crust that they were candies that had come from France and the ships that had brought the Spanish people their fine clothes and that they were only for the rich and would make poor little girls' teeth ache if they should eat them. Yet after I confided to him how mother had given me a lump of loaf sugar each night as long as it lasted and how sorry we both felt when there was no more. He led me into the shop and let me choose two of each kind and color from the jars. We walked faster as I carried them home. Jakey and Grandma would not take any but she gave Georgia and me each a sugar plum and an egg to rest for other days when we should be good children. End of chapter 21 Recorded by Donna Stewart Seattle, Washington Chapter 22 of the Expedition of the Donner Party and its tragic fate This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Donna Stewart Seattle, Washington The Expedition of the Donner Party and its tragic fate by Eliza P. Donner-Houten Chapter 22 Gold Discovered California is ours Nursing the Sick The U.S. Military Post Burial of an Officer In the year 1848 while the settlers and their families were contentedly at work developing the resources of the country the astounding cry Gold Discovered came through the valley like a blight stopping every industry in its wake Excited men, women and children rushed to town in quest of information It was furnished by Alcalde Boggs and General Balejo who had been called away privately two weeks earlier and had just returned in a state of enthusiasm declaring that Gold in dust, grains and chunks had been discovered at Coloma not more than a day's journey from Sutter's Fort How soon can we get there became the all-absorbing problem of eager listeners The only hotelkeeper in the town sold his kettles and pans closed his house and departed Shopkeepers packed most of their supplies for immediate shipment Here is the price of those left for home trade Men and half-grown boys hardly took time to collect a meager outfit before they were off with a shovel and pan and something big to hold the gold A few families packed their effects into emigrant wagons and deserted house and lands for the luring gold fields Crowds from San Francisco came hurrying through some stopping barely long enough and started them off to the diggings with pick and shovel Each new rumor increased the exodus of gold seekers and by the end of the first week in August when the messenger arrived with the long hoped for report of the ratification of the Treaty of Peace and General Mason's proclamation officially announcing it there were not enough men left in the valley outside of the barracks to give a decent round of cheers for the blessing of peace At home California is ours there will be no more war no more trouble and no more need of soldiers Yet the women felt that their battles and trials had just begun since they had suddenly become the sole homekeepers with limited ways and means to provide for the children and care for the stock and farms Discouragement would have rendered the burdens of many too heavy to carry had not worked together the labor become the watch words of the day No one was allowed to suffer through lack of practical sympathy from house to house by turns went the strong to help the weak to bridge their troubles They went not with cheering words only but with something in store for the empty cupboards and with helping hands to help milk, wash, cook or so Grandma was in such demand that she had little time to rest at the medicine shop in the valley and her parcels of herbs and knowledge of their uses had to serve for both nights she set her shoes handy so that she could dress quickly when summoned to the sick and dawn of day often marked her homecoming Georgia and I were led into her work early for we were sent with broths and appetizers to the sick on clearings within walking distances and she would bid us stay a while to be helpful but to be sure and bring careful reports from each home we entered under such training we learned much about diseases and the care of the suffering Anon we would find in the plain wooden cradle a dainty bundle of sweetness all done up in white which its happy owner declared Grandma had brought her and we felt quite repaid for our tiresome walk if permitted to hold it a wee while in its name we were sent together on these missions in order that we might help each other to remember all that was told us yet Grandma had us take turns and the one whom she commissioned to make the inquiries was expected to bring the fuller answers sometimes we played on the way and made mistakes then she would meet out to us the hardest of punishments namely that we were not to speak with each other until she should forgive our offence forgiveness usually came before time to drive up the cows for she knew that we were nimbler footed when she started us off in a happy mood each cow wore a bell of different tone and knew her own name yet it was not an easy task even in pleasant weather to collect the various strings and get them home on time they mixed and fed with the neighbors cattle on the range of bumps of trees and other convenient obstructions often Grandma would get her string in by the main trail and have them milked before we could bring up the laggards that provokingly dawdled along nibbling stray bunches of grass when late on the road we saw coyotes sneaking out for their evening meal and heard the far away cry of the panther but we were not much afraid when it was light enough so that imagination could not picture them being behind us our gallant company C officered by Captain Bartlett and Lieutenants Stoneman and Stone was ordered to another post early in August and its departure called such universal regret that no one supposed company H under Captain Frisbee could fill its place nevertheless that handsome young officer soon found his way to the goodwill of the people and when Captain Joe Hooker was at Grandma's Dairy she too was greatly pleased by his soldierly bearing after he mentioned that he had heard of her interest in the company which had been called away and that he believed she would find company H equally deserving of her consideration she readily extended to the new men the home-like privileges which the others had enjoyed thus more friends came among us notable among mine was the quarters from whom Georgia and I tried to hide the first time she waddled out to our house she searched us out saying now, honey, don't you be so scared of this old Aunt Lucy because she done he had Captain Hooker tell lots about us and she's come to see us her face was one great smile and her voice was so coaxing that she had little difficulty in gaining our favor the more so as upon leaving I surely go and make that little pie and cake I promise you so you mustn't forget to come and get it on one occasion when I was sent to the post on an errand she had no pie or cake but she brought out a primer and said thoughtfully I was going to give you this here ABC book because I want you to grow up like quality folks its worn leaves showed that its owner had studied its first few pages only and when I replied grandma says I must not take everything that has offered me she chuckled and continued Lord, honey, you needn't have no punches about taking this here book because I couldn't learn to read know how when I was a gal and I was too old now now I want you to be nice and you can't lessen you can read and talk like the captain done told me your mother done I was delighted with the book and told her so and hugged it all the way home for it had a beautiful picture near the back showing a little girl with a sprinkling pot watering her garden of stocks, sweet Williams and Hollyhawks her hair was in four long curls and she had trimming on her dress apron and long panellettes I was also impressed by the new words I had heard aunt Lucy use, punches and quality folks I repeated them over and over to myself so that I should be able to tell them to Georgia our last visit to aunt Lucy must have been prearranged for as she admitted us she said as mother glad you's done come so soon because I've been expecting you and must take you right into the general I'd never seen a general and was shy about meeting one until after she assured me that only cowards and bad men feared him we walked down the corridor and entered a large room where an elderly gentleman in uniform sat writing at a table Aunt Lucy stopped beside him and still holding each by the hand bowed low saying General Smith I'll bring you to two little Donna gals and see you sir then she slipped out he was as courteous to us as though we were grown ladies shook hands asked how we felt begged us to be seated and then stepped to a door and called Susan, Susan I like the name a sweet voice answered coming presently a pretty dark-haired southern lady appeared who called us honeys and dear little girls she sat between us joining with her husband in earnest inquiries about our stay in the mountains and our home with grandma Georgia did most of the talking I was satisfied just to look at them and hear them speak at the close of our visit with a knowing look she took us to see what Aunt Lucy had baked the general and she had recently come to pay a last visit to a sick officer who had been sent from San Francisco with the hope that our milder climate would prolong his life they themselves stayed only a short time and their friend never left our valley the day he died the flag swung lower on the staff soldiers dug his grave on the hillside north of town and word came from army headquarters that he would be buried on the morrow at midday with military honors Georgia and I wanted to know what military honors were and as it came time for the funeral we gathered with others on the plaza where the procession formed we were deeply impressed the emigrants uncovered and bowed their heads reverently but the soldiers in line with guns reversed stood erect and motionless as figures in stone while the beer of the dead was being carried through open ranks to the waiting caisson the coffin was covered with a flag and upon it lay his chapeau gauntlets, sash, and sword his boots with their toes reversed hung over the saddle of a riderless horse led behind the caisson the solemn tones of fife and muffled drum led the way through the town past the old mission bells and up the hillside only soldiers stood close around the grave and heard what was read by the officer who stood at its head with an open book in one hand and a drawn sword in the other three times the file of soldiers fired a volley over the grave then the muffled drum sounded its farewell taps and the officers with their men and the funeral caisson returned to their quarters in silent order end of chapter 22 recorded by Donna Stewart Seattle Washington chapter 23 of the expedition of the Donner Party and its tragic fate this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Donna Stewart Seattle Washington expedition of the Donner Party and its tragic fate by Eliza P. Donner-Houten chapter 23 reaping and threshing a pioneer funeral the homeless and wayfaring appeal to Mrs. Brunner return of the miners social gatherings our daily routine stolen pleasures a little dairy made my dog skin shoes reaping and threshing were interesting events to us that summer mission Indians scantily clothed came and cut the grain with long knives and sickles bounded in small sheaves and stacked it in the backyard opposite grandma's lookout window then encircled it with a rustic fence leaving a wide bear space between the stack and the fence which they swept clean with green branches from live oak trees after many days Mexican drivers brought a band of wild mares to help with the work a thick layer of unthreshed grain was pitched on to the bear space surrounding the stack and the mares were driven around and around upon it from time to time fresh material was supplied to meet the needs of the threshers and at given signals from the men on the stack the mares were turned out for a short rest also in order to allow the Indians a chance to throw out the waste straw and to heap the loose grain on the winnowing ground so they did again and again until the last sheaf had been trodden under foot when the threshing was finished the Indians rested then prepared their fires and feasted on the head, feet and awful of a bullock which grandpa had slaughtered like buzzards came the squaws and papooses to take what was left of the food and to claim a share from the pile of worn out clothes which grandma brought out for distribution amid shouts of pleasure, gesticulations and all manner of begging the distribution began and when it ended our front yard looked as though it were stocked with prized scarecrows one big fellow was resplendent in a battered silk hat and a tattered army coat another was well dressed in a pair of cast off boots and one of grandma's ragged aprons Georgia and I tried to help to sort the things as they should be worn but our efforts were in vain wrong hands would reach around and get the articles and both sexes interchanged suits with apparent satisfaction grandma got quite out of patience with one great fellow who was trying to put on a petticoat that his squaw needed and rushed up to him, jerked it off gave him a vigorous push and had the garment on his squaw before he could do more than grunt in the end they went away carrying more for the clothes than they had given them than for the money they had earned before the summer waned death claimed one of our own brave women and immigrants from far and near gathered to do her honor I did not recollect her name but know that she was tall and fair and that grandma who had watched with her through her last hours told Georgia and me that when we saw the procession leave the house we might creep through our back fence and reach the grave before those who should walk around by the road we were glad to go for we had watched the growth of the fresh ridge under a large oak tree not far from our house and had heard a friend say that it would be a heavenly resting place for the freed sufferer her family and nearest neighbors left the house afoot behind the wagon which carried the plain redwood coffin at the crossroads several fell in line and at the grave was quite a gathering a number came in their ox wagons others on horseback among them a father afoot leading a horse upon whose back set his wife with an infant in arms and a child behind clinging to her waist and several old nags freighted with children were led by one parent while the other walked alongside to see that none should lose their balance and fall off no minister of the gospel was within call so after the coffin was placed on the bars above the open grave and the lid removed a friend who had crossed the plains with the dead offered a prayer and all the listeners said amen I might not have remembered all these things if Georgia and I had not watched over that grave when all others seemed to have forgotten it as we brought brush to cover it in order to keep the cattle from dusting themselves in the loose earth we talked matters over and felt as though that mother's grave had been bequeathed to us grandma had instructed us that the grave is God's acre and that it is a sin to live near and not tend it dill no matter how often we chase the cattle away they would return we could not make them understand that their old resting place had become sacred ground about the middle of October 1848 the last of the volunteers were mustered out of service and shortly thereafter the excess of army stores were condemned and sold ex-soldiers had preference over settlers and could buy the goods at government rates plus a small cost of transportation to the pacific coast grandma profited by the goodwill of those whom she had befriended they stalked her storeroom with salt pork flour, rice, coffee, sugar ship bread, dried fruit and camp condiments at a nominal figure above what they themselves paid for them this was fortunate for the hotel was still closed and the homeless and wayfaring appealing to grandma easily persuaded her to make room for them at her table the greater the number the harder she worked and the more she expected of us although we rose at dawn and rolled our sleeves high as she rolled hers and like her turned up our dress skirts and pinned them behind under our long-belt aprons we could not keep pace with her work nevertheless we were pleasing reminders of little girls whom she had known in her native village and she was proud of us and had two little white dresses fashion to be worn on very special occasions after they were finished we also were proud and made many trips into the room to see how beautiful they looked hanging against the wall under the curtain marvelous accounts of the extent and riches of the gold diggings were now brought to town by traffickers in provisions for mining camps this good news inspired our homekeepers with renewed courage they worked faster while planning the comfort they should enjoy after the return of the absent the first to come were the unfortunate who sought to shake off rheumatism lung trouble or stubborn low-grade fever brought on by working in the water sleeping on damp ground eating poorly cooked food or wearing clothing insufficient to guard against the morning and evening chill few had much to show for their toil and privation yet not disheartened even in delirium they clamor to hasten back for the precious treasure which seemed ever beckoning them onward when wind and weather drove them home the robust came with bags of gold rolled in their snug packs they called each other lucky dogs yet looked like grimy beggars with faces so be whiskered and clothing so ragged or so wonderfully patched that little children cried when they drew near and wives threw up their hands exclaiming for the land say can't it be yet each home comeer found glad welcome and messengers were quick to spread the news and friends gathered to rejoice with a return now each home cooked dish was a feast for the camp fed to contrast with their fair at kaloma woods camp and sundry other places where flour, rice, ship bread and coffee were three dollars a pound salt, pork and white beans two dollars a pound jerked beef eight dollars a pound salaratus sixteen dollars an ounce and salt, sugar and raisins were put on the scales to balance their weight in gold dust where liquor was fifty cents a tablespoon and candles five dollars each it was not the prices at which they complained but at the dearth of these staples which had forced them home to wait until spring should again open the road to supply trains the homeless who in the evenings found comfort and cheer around grandma's table would take out their treasure bags and boxes and pour their dust and grains of gold in separate piles to show the quality and quantity then pass the nuggets around that all might see what strange figures nature had molded in secret up among the rocks and ravines of the sierras one Roman Catholic claimed as his choices to prize a perfectly shaped cross of free gold which he had cradled from the sands in the bed of a creek another had an image of the virgin and child a slight stretch of the imagination turned many of the beautifully fretted pieces into miniature birds and other admirable designs for sweetheart brooches the exhibition over each would scrape his hoard back into its receptacle blow the remaining yellow particles onto the floor so that the table should not show stain and then settle himself to take part in relating amusing and thrilling incidents of life in the mining camps not a window was closed nor a door locked nor a wink of sleep lost in those days guarding bags of gold hands off was the miners law and all knew that death awaited him who should venture to break it heavy purses made willing spenders and generous impulses were untrammeled nothing could be more gratifying or touching than the respect shown by those homeless men to the pioneer women and children they would walk long distances and suffer delays and inconveniences for the privilege of passing a few hours under home influences and were ever ready to contribute towards pleasures in which all might participate they were so few young girls in the community and their presence was so greatly desired that in the early winter Georgia and I attended as welcome guests some of the social gatherings which began at early candlelight and we wore the little white dresses that were so precious in our eyes before the season was half over heavy rain was followed by such bitter cold that all the ground and still waters were frozen stiff although we were well muffled and grandma warmed us up with a drink of hot water and sweetened cream before starting us out after the cows the frost nipped at our feet until the old scars became so angry and painful that we could scarcely hobble about the house many remedies were tried to no purpose the most severe being the early foot bath with floats of ice in the water it chilled us through and through and also made grandma keep us from the fire lest the heat should undo the benefit expected from the cold so while we sat with shivering forms and chattering teeth looking across the room at the blazing logs under the breakfast handles our string of cows was coming home in care of a new driver we were glad to be together even in misery and all things considered were perhaps as useful in our crippled condition as before for there was enough to keep our hands busy while our feet rested grandma thought she made our work lighter by bringing it to us yet she came too often for it to seem easy to us first the six brass candlesticks with hoods and trays had to be brightened and next there were the small brass kettles in which she boiled the milk for coffee to be polished inside and out however we did not dread the kettles much unless burned for there was always a spoon in the bottom to help gather the scrapings of which we were very fond but when she would come with a large pan of dry beans or peas to be picked over quickly so she could get them soaked for early cooking we would measure its contents with critical eyes to make sure that it was not more than we had had the previous day by the time we would get to the bottom of the pan she would be ready to put before us a discouraging pile of iron knives forks and pewter spoons to scour with wood ashes how we did hate those old black knives and forks she said her sight was poor but she could always see when we slighted any the redeeming work of the day was sorting the dried fruit for sauce or pies we could take little nibbles as we handled it and knew that we should get an extra taste when it was ready for use and after she had put the upper crust on the pies she would generally permit us to make the fancy print around the edges with a fork and then prick a figure in the center to let the steam escape while baking sometimes she received a dollar apiece for these pies and she had so many customers for them and for such loaves of bread as she could spare that she often declared the farm was as good as a gold mine we were supposed not to play with dolls consequently we durst not ask anyone to step around and see how our little house in the backyard was weathering the storms nor how the beloved nine in it were getting along though only bottles of different sizes to us they were dear children named after great personages whom the soldiers had taught us to honor the most distinguished had cork stoppers for heads with faces marked on the sides the rest only wads of paper or cloth fastened on the ends of sticks that reached down into the bodies a strip of cloth tied around each neck below the bulge served as make-believe arms suitable for all ordinary purposes and with a little assistance capable of saluting an officer or waving to a comrade we worried because they were clothed in fragments of cloth and paper too thin for the season the first chance we got we slipped out and found our darlings in a pitiable plight Generals Washington and Jackson and little Van Buren were mired at the foot of a landslide from the overhanging bank Taylor, Webster, Clay and Benton had been knocked down and buried almost out of sight Martha Washington's white shawl and the chicken plumes in her hat were ruined and Dandy Jim from North Carolina lay at her feet with a broken neck such a shock we realized that everything could be restored was our grief asswaged that is, everything but Dandy Jim he was a serious loss for he was our only black bottle and had always been kept to wait on Martha Washington we worked fast and had accomplished so much before being called into the house that we might have put everything in order next day had Georgia not waked up toward morning with a severe cold and had Gramannot found out how she caught it the outcome was that our treasures were taken to the storeroom to become medicine and vinegar bottles and we mourned like birds robbed of their young new duties were open to me as soon as I could wear my shoes and by the time Georgia was out again I was a busy little dairy maid and quite at home in the corrals I had been decorated with a regulation salt bag which hung close to my left side like a fisherman's basket I owned a quart cup and could milk with either hand also knew how to administer the pinch of salt which each cow expected after a little practice I became able to do all the stripping in some cases it amounted to not more than half a pint from each animal however much or little the strippings were of importance and were kept separate because Gramannot considered them good as cream in the cheese kettle when I could sit on the one-legged stool which Jakey had made me hold a pail between my knees and milk one or more cows without help raised my cleverness a cleverness which fixed more outside responsibilities upon me and kept me from Georgia a longer while each day my work was hard still I remained noticeably taller and stronger than she who was assigned to lighter household duties I felt I had no reason to complain of my tasks because everybody about me was busy and the work had to be done if I was more helpful than my little sister I was also a source of greater trouble for I wore out my clothes faster and they were difficult to replace especially shoes there was but one shoemaker in town and he was kept so busy that he took a generous measure of children's feet and then allowed a size more to guard against the shoes being too small by the time he should get them finished when my little stogies began to leak he shook his head thoughtfully and declared that he had so many orders for men's boots that he could not possibly work for women or children until those orders were filled consequently, Grandma kept her eye on my shoes and as they got worse and worse she became sorely perplexed she would not let me go barefooted because she was afraid of snags and ensuing lock-jaw she could not loan me her own because she was saving them for special occasions and wearing instead the heavy sabbos that she had brought from her native land she tried the effect of continually reminding me to pick my way and save my shoes they were miserable for us both finally she up braided me harshly for a playful run across the yard with courage and I lost my temper and grumbled I would rather go barefoot and get snags in my feet than have so much bother about old shoes that are worn out and no good anyway I was still crying when Hendrick a roly-poly hollander came along and asked the cause of my distress Grandma told him that I was out of humor because she was trying to keep shoes while I was determined to run them off he laughed bad me cheer up sang the rollicking sailor song with which he used to drive away storms at sea then showed me a hole in the heel of the dog-skin boots he wore and told me that out of their tops he would make me a beautiful pair of shoes no clouds darkened my sky the morning that Hendrick came wearing a pair of new cow-hide boots that squeaked as though singing crickets were between the heavy souls for he had his work-box and the dog-skins under his arm and we took seats under the oak tree where he laid out his tools and went to work without more ado he had brought a piece of tanned cow-hide for the soles of my shoes and all a sailor's thimble needles, coarse thread a ball of wax and a sharp knife the hair on the inside of the boot-legs was thick and smooth and the colors showed that one of the skins was taken from the body of a black and white dog and the other from that of a tawny brindle as Hendrick modeled and sewed he told me a wondrous tale of the great North Polar Sea where he had gone in a wailing vessel and had stayed all winter among the mountains of ice and snow there his boots had worn out so he had bought these skins from queer little people there who lived in snow huts and instead of horses and oxen used dogs to draw their sleds I like the black and white skin better than the brindle so he cut that for the right foot and told me always to make it starred first and when I put the shoes on they felt so soft and warm that I knew I could never forget Hendrick's generosity and kindness the longer I wore them the more I became attached to them and the better I understood the story he had told me for in my musings they were not shoes but spot and brindle live Eskimo dogs were families of queer little people in sleds over the frozen sea and had always been hungry and ready to fight over their scanty meals at times I imagined that they wanted to race and scamper about as happy dogs do and I would run myself out of breath to keep them going and always stop with spot in the lead when I needed shoestrings I was sent to the shoemaker who only glanced up and replied come tomorrow and I'll have a piece of leather big enough the next day he made the same answer come tomorrow and kept pegging away as fast as he could on a boot sole the third time I appeared before him he looked up with the ejaculation well I'll be damned if she ain't here again I was well aware that he should not have used that evil word yet I was not alarmed for I had heard grandpa and others use worse and mean no harm nor yet intend to be cross so I stood quietly and in a trice he was up had rushed across the shop two round pieces of leather not larger than cookies and before I knew what he was about had turned them into good straight shoestrings he waxed them and handed them to me with a remark tell your grandma that since you had to wait so long I charge her only 25 cents for them end of chapter 23 recorded by Donna Stewart Seattle Washington