One day, on their journey, they came to a narrow but deep stream of water. Some of the prisoners, and nearly all of the Indians, crossed on horseback, while a few crossed on logs, which had been cut down by the beaver. A lady (by name Mrs. Fletcher, I believe), who was in delicate health, fell into the water with her heavy burden, unable, on account of her condition, to cross, and was shot by the Indians, her lifeless body soon disappearing from sight. She also told me of a white man having been killed a few days previous, and a large sum of money taken from him, which would be exchanged for articles used among the Indians when they next visited the Red River or British Possessions. They went, she told me, two or three times a year, taking American horses, valuables, etc., which they had stolen from the whites, and exchanging them for ammunition, powder, arrow points, and provisions. Before they reached the Missouri River they killed five of Mrs. Dooley’s children, one of which was left on the ground in a place where the distracted mother had to pass daily in carrying water from the river; and when they left the camp the body remained unburied. So terrible were the sufferings of this heart-broken mother, that, when she arrived in safety among the whites, her reason was dethroned, and I was told that she was sent to the lunatic asylum, where her distracted husband soon followed. Mary wished that we might be together, but knew that it would be useless to ask, as it would not be granted. I gave her my little book and half of my pencil, which she was glad to receive. I wrote her name in the book, together with mine, encouraging her with every kind word and hope of the future. She could read and write, and understood the Indian language thoroughly. The book had been taken from our wagon, and I had endeavored to teach the Indians from it, for it contained several stories; so it made the Indians very angry to have me part with it. For hours I had sat with the book in my hands, showing them the pictures and explaining their meaning, which interested them greatly, and which helped pass away and relieve the monotony of the days of captivity which I was enduring. Moreover, it inspired them with a degree of respect and veneration for me when engaged in the task, which was not only pleasant, but a great comfort. It was by this means they discovered my usefulness in writing letters and reading for them. I found them apt pupils, willing to learn, and they learned easily and rapidly. Their memory is very retentive—unusually good. CHAPTER XII. FIRST INTIMATION OF MY LITTLE MARY’S FATE—DESPAIR AND DELIRIUM—A SHOWER OF GRASSHOPPERS—A FEAST AND A FIGHT—AN ENRAGED SQUAW—THE CHIEF WOUNDED. One day, as I was pursuing what seemed to me an endless journey, an Indian rode up beside me, whom I did not remember to have seen before.