In our one-horse buggy, Mr. and Mrs. Hunter drove ahead of the party, and he crawled into the garrison. He found that the Indians had beleaguered them, had set fire to all the out-buildings of the fort, appropriated all their stock, had been fighting all day, and had retired to the ravine as the night came on. The fort was already crowded with women and children, and scantily manned by soldiers. We could come in, they said, but our teams would be taken by the Indians. They expected the attack would be renewed the next day. When Mr. Hunter returned, we stopped in the road and held a _hasty_ consultation, as we were in a good deal of fear that we were even now followed. We had just passed a house where the dogs alone remained to bark, which they did furiously. And just then some of the party, walking by the side of our wagons, stumbled over the dead body of a man. There was no time to lose. We decided not to go in, but to turn out and go around the fort and its beleaguering forces, if possible. The four men who had fallen to our company--three Germans and an Irishman--dissented. But we told them no one should leave us until we were past the danger. And, to prevent any desertion in this our hour of trial, Mr. Moore cocked his revolver and would shoot down the man who attempted to leave. It was ten o'clock, and the night was dark. We turned square off the road, and went up northward to seek an old ford over the little stream that runs down by the fort. The Lord guided us to the right place, but while we were hunting in the willows for the old unused road, there was a cry heard so much like a human cry that we were all quite startled. We thought it was the signal of an attack by the Indians. Probably it was only the cry of a fox. Just then Dr. Williamson came to me and said perhaps he had counselled wrongly, and that, if it was thought best, he was quite willing to go back to the fort. But I replied that we were now almost around it, and it would be unwise to go back. And so we traveled on over the ravine and up on the broad prairie beyond, and received no harm. Our pulses began to beat less furiously as we traveled on toward three o'clock in the morning, and felt that we were out of sight and hearing of the Sioux warriors. So we stopped to rest our weary cattle. Some slept for an hour, but the greater part kept watch.