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 ",—Your agent tells us very bad things about your people’s killing two of our men. I want you and your brother Natchez to meet me at your place to-night. I want to talk to you and your brother.

It took me some time to read it, as I was very poor, indeed, at reading writing; and I assure you, my dear readers, I am not much better now. After reading it four or more times, I knew what it said. I did not know what to do, as brother had not returned. I had no ink to write with. My people all gathered round me waiting for me to tell them something. I did not say anything. They could not wait any longer. They asked me what the paper said. I said, “The soldiers are coming; the officer wants me and my brother to see them at our place.” At that time, brother and I had a place on the reservation.

They said, “Oh, it is too bad that he went off this morning; you and he might be the means of saving us. Can you speak to them on paper?”

I said, “I have nothing to write with. I have no ink. I have no pen.”

They said, “Oh, take a stick,—take anything. Until you talk on that paper we will not believe you can talk on paper.”

I said, “Make me a stick with a sharp point, and bring me some fish’s blood.” They did as I told them, and then I wrote, saying,—

“,—My brother is not here. I am looking for him every minute. We will go as soon as he comes in. If he comes to-night, we will come some time during the night.

Yours,S. W."