What occurred at Fort Laramie after my Capture—Efforts to Rescue—Lieutenant Brown killed—Reward offered—It is the Means of restoring another White Woman and Child—Her Rescuers hung for Former Murders—A Letter announcing my Safe Arrival at Fort Sully, 223 CHAPTER XXV. Supper in Honor of our Re-union—Departure from Fort Sully—Incidents by the way—Arrival at Geneva—Mother and Child—A Happy Meeting, 228 CHAPTER XXVI. Elizabeth Blackwell—Mormon Home—A brutal Father—The Mother and Daughters flee to the Mountains—Death of the Mother and Sisters from exposure—Elizabeth saved by an Indian—A White Woman tortured—Rescued Children—The Boxx Family—Capture of Mrs. Blynn, 238 CHAPTER XXVII. Move to Wyoming—False Friends—The Manuscript of my Narrative taken by another party and published—I go to Washington, 250 CHAPTER XXVIII. General Sully’s Expedition, 255 POEM TO MRS. FANNIE KELLY, 268 CERTIFICATE OF INDIAN CHIEFS, 270 CERTIFIED COPIES OF MY CORRESPONDENCE WITH CAPTAIN FISK, 274 STATEMENT OF LIEUTENANT G. A. HESSELBERG, 279 STATEMENT OF OFFICERS AND MEMBERS OF THE SIXTH IOWA CALVARY, 282 [Illustration: THE CAMP.] CAPTIVITY AMONG THE SIOUX. CHAPTER I. EARLY HISTORY—CANADA TO KANSAS—DEATH OF MY FATHER—MY MARRIAGE—“HO! FOR IDAHO!”—CROSSING THE PLATTE RIVER—A STORM. I was born in Orillia, Canada, in 1845. Our home was on the lake shore, and there amid pleasant surroundings I passed the happy days of early childhood. The years 1852 to 1856 witnessed, probably, the heaviest immigration the West has ever known in a corresponding length of time. Those who had gone before sent back to their friends such marvelous accounts of the fertility of the soil, the rapid development of the country, and the ease with which fortunes were made, the “Western fever” became almost epidemic. Whole towns in the old, Eastern States were almost depopulated. Old substantial farmers, surrounded apparently by all the comforts that heart could wish, sacrificed the homes wherein their families had been reared for generations, and, with all their worldly possessions, turned their faces toward the setting sun. And with what high hopes! Alas! how few, comparatively, met their realization. In 1856, my father, James Wiggins, joined a New York colony bound for Kansas. Being favorably impressed with the country and its people, they located the town of Geneva, and my father returned for his family.