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 that road. No white women on all the places where we stopped,—all men,—yet we were treated kindly by all of them, so far. We did not know what kind of a place Mr. Anderson’s place was now, but before the Bannock war none of my people would go there for years and years. But we had to go there now. We got there about four o’clock in the afternoon. I had known Mr. Anderson for a number of years. He was a United States mail-contractor, and always had many cow-boys at his place over night. Sure enough, there were eight of them this night. There was only one room in the house with a fireplace. He was kind to us. I told him what I had told others. After supper I felt like crying, and said to sister,—

“What shall we do? Where shall we sleep? We have no blankets.”

We could sleep out of doors, but there was snow on the ground. Oh, how badly I felt that night! It was hard to keep back the tears. At last they began to make their beds here, there, and everywhere on the floor. Mr. Anderson said to the stage-driver,—

“You and I must give up our bed to Miss Winnemucca to-night, and go in with some of the boys.”

Nothing more was said, and they went to bed with some of them, and by-and-by we lay down.

I said to sister, “Oh, how my heart jumps. Something is going to happen to us, dear.”

“I feel that way too,” sister said. We sat a long time, but it was very cold, and at last we lay down and I soon fell asleep.

Some one laid a hand on me and said, “Sarah!”

I jumped up with fright and gave him such a blow right in the face. I said, “Go away, or I will cut you to pieces, you mean man!” He ran out of the house, and Mr. Anderson got up and lighted a candle. There was blood