Looking back I saw a half-dozen Sioux horsemen come out of the woods and start on a trot toward us.
Just then Chitto spoke to the horse, and he bounded off at a terrible rate, never halting until he had gone two or three miles.
Then, when we looked back, we saw nothing of the Indians, and the horse was brought down to a walk; and finally, when the sun went down, we entered a dense wood, where we staid all night.
I shall not attempt to describe those fearful hours. Not one of us slept a wink. Mother sat weeping over the loss of father, while I was heart-broken, too.
Chitto, like the Indian she was, kept on the move continually. Here and there she stole as noiselessly through the wood as a shadow, while playing the part of sentinel.
At daylight we all fell into a feverish slumber, which lasted several hours. When we awoke, we were hungry and miserable.
Seeing a settler's house in the distance, Chitto offered to go to it for food. We were afraid she would get into trouble, but she was sure there was no danger and went.
In less than an hour she was back again with an abundance of bread. She said there was no one in the house, and we supposed the people had become alarmed and escaped.
We staid where we were for three days, during which time we saw a party of Sioux warriors burn the house where Chitto had obtained the food for us.
It seemed to mother that the Indians would not remain at Lac Qui Parle long, and that we would be likely to find safety there. Accordingly, she induced Chitto to start on the return.