“I want no peace with you. You hold in captivity a white woman; deliver her up to us, and we will believe in your professions. But unless you do, we will raise an army of soldiers as numerous as the trees on the Missouri River and exterminate the Indians.” The Blackfeet assured General Sully that they held no white woman in their possession, but that I was among the Ogalallas. “As you are friendly with them,” said the General, “go to them and secure her, and we will then reward you for so doing.” The Blackfeet warriors appeared openly in the village a few days afterward, and declared their intentions, stating in council the determination of General Sully. The Ogalallas were not afraid, they said, and refused to let me go. They held solemn council for two days, and at last resolved that the Blackfeet should take me as a ruse, to enable them to enter the fort, and a wholesale slaughter should exterminate the soldiers. While thus deliberating as to what they thought best—part of them willing, the other half refusing to let me go—Hunkiapa, a warrior, came into the lodge, and ordered me out, immediately following me. He then led me into a lodge where there were fifty warriors, painted and armed—their bows strung and their quivers full of arrows. From thence, the whole party, including three squaws, who, noting my extreme fear, accompanied me, started toward a creek, where there were five horses and warriors to attend us to the Blackfeet village. Placing me on a horse, we were rapidly pursuing our way, when a party of the Ogalallas, who were unwilling, came up with us, to reclaim me. Here they parleyed for a time, and, finally, after a solemn promise on the part of my new captors that I should be returned safely, and that I should be cared for and kindly treated, we were allowed to proceed. In their parleying, one of the warriors ordered me to alight from the horse, pointing a pistol to my breast. Many of them clamored for my life, but, finally, they settled the matter, and permitted us to proceed on our journey. After so many escapes from death, this last seemed miraculous; but God willed it otherwise, and to him I owe my grateful homage. It was a bitter trial for me to be obliged to go with this new and stranger tribe. I was unwilling to exchange my life for an unknown one, and especially as my companionship with the sisters of the chief had been such as to protect me from injury or insult. A sort of security and safety was felt in the lodge of the chief, which now the fear of my new position made me appreciate still more. Savages they were, and I had longed to be free from them; but now I parted with them with regret and misgiving.