At nine o'clock we went to the schoolroom. Mr. Sanders was the teacher. Joe Stansfield went out that morning to drive in a beef animal from the range to be killed and brother Frank was the one to shoot it down. That made him late for school and when he came in school had been in session perhaps half an hour. When the hour for the forenoon recess had come, the girls had theirs first and we went over to the Doctor's kitchen. My brother John, who was just recovering from a severe case of measles, was sitting there with a skein of brown twine around his knees, winding it into a ball for there were brooms to be made soon. We all got a drink of water. John asked me to bring him some and after he had drank, said, "Won't you hold the twine for me?" I replied, "'Tis only recess, but I will hold it at noon." The bell called us then, so we returned to the schoolroom and the boys were given their recess. The beef was being dressed in the meadow grass, northeast and not far from the school house. Three or four white men were at work and a lot of Indians were gathered around with their blankets closely wrapped about them and it is supposed that they had their guns and tomahawks under them. The boys went to where the beef was being dressed; in a short time we heard guns and the boys came running in and said the Indians were killing the men at the beef. Mr. Sanders opened the door and we looked out. We saw Mr. Rogers run from the river to the Mission house and Mr. Kimball running with his sleeves rolled up and his arms all bloody; he ran around the end of the house to the east door and Mrs. Whitman let him in. Mr. Hoffman was fighting with an Indian, swinging an ax; he was at the beef. Mr. Sanders ran down the steps, probably thinking of his family, but was seized by two Indians; he broke away from them and started for the immigrant house where his family were. One Indian on horseback and two on foot ran after him and overtook him just as he reached the fence to cross it; they killed him and cut his head off and the next day I saw him lying there with his head severed. Mrs. Whitman stood at a door which had a sash window, looking at the attack on Mr. Sanders. Mr. Rogers came to the door and she let him in; his arm was broken at the wrist.