It’s still hot - 94º, but it rained a bit this evening. I think I will write a bit more about Indians now.

Joe Sluga had a homestead near Elk Creek where large numbers of Indians lived. On his land, there were big “Indian” trees, and small brush that served for shade and hiding places for game. The Indians did not have to worry about food for there were deer, elk, and prairie chicken to hunt. They also planted corn, pumpkins, and squash and grew wild rice.

When the whites settled around the Joe Sluga property, the Indians became quite friendly. Mr Sluga said, “The Indians were fond of pork and give a great deal of their precious belongings for a pork chop.”

The Indians of Western Wisconsin had been compelled by law in 1837, to give up their lands. However, they were reluctant to leave their ancestral areas which sustained them and where their dead were buried.

When the Sioux Indian uprising in Minnesota frightened many white settlers there were rumors were spreading fast that a horde of Indians was on a war path and might appear at any time. George Hale, who worked for the Markhams, drove to Fountain City and obtained a keg of powder and lead for defense purposes. The Watson family fled from their home in the town of Hale and took refuge with the Markhams in Burnside. The Indians never came, and the rumors appeared to be groundless.

Sometime before the Minnesota Indian disturbance the local Indians borrowed a rifle from Giles Cripps promising to return it a little later He was sure that he had lost the gun and was greatly surprised some weeks later when the Indians returned the rifle in good condition. To his inquiry as to what they had been doing they replied that they had done some hunting with the gun. But Mr. Cripps said he felt sure that the gun had been used in the fighting in Mankato, Minnesota'
 
Later
 
I had my first opportunity to serve at the Markham house lately. Mrs. Markham sent Susan around to ask, and Moma and the boys and I went back with her so Moma could meet Mrs. Markham. But what a wonderful house it is. We had tea in their enormous front room - and Mr. George Markham joined us. We chatted about our trip from Prussia, and he said he could tell us the story about his trip, and he was sure his would be the more hair raising. There wasn’t time then for it then, but he promised he would tell me more later.

I said, “Mr. Markham, I am writing in my diary about the Indians, because I have an aunt who is likely to come over who is very frightened by them. I understand that some people sheltered here when there was an attack likely. Do you have any stories about that time?”

Mr. Markham smiled and said, “Well, maybe I have time for one story. Two men came to my door and said that one of them had been attacked by Indians. We didn’t really believe it, but some of my friends were anxious to go to attack the Indian camp without warning and exterminate them all. But wiser advice prevailed and it was decided to investigate the matter a little further.

“Little Beaver, the chief, met the men’s accusation with the request to see the man so savagely attacked. Further inquiry brought to light the fact that the two men had not even seen the Indians and that the wounded man’s cuts were suffered when he fell into a grain cradle, but he was doing all he could to stir up mischief, and hide his own embarrassment.” With that story told, he got up and left the room.

But I wasn’t wanting the story telling to finish.

“Fanny,” I said. “Tell us something about when your husband came here. How old was he?”

“He was born in Yorkshire, England, January 24, 1837, and is the second son of Captain John Markham of the British Navy. You will meet the Captain if you come to serve at my party, but he is very old and frail now. George’s early boyhood was spent on the Island of Guernsey with his parents and three brothers, John, Arthur, and Albert. John and Albert are in the Navy, and Arthur and George came here. They also brought their tutor, Charles Lyne and you will meet him later too, and Walter Maule, who lives nearby with his family.

They came to America on August 13, 1856, and sailed from Southampton, England and landed at New York. From thence, they traveled by rail to Chicago and then by boat to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, from which they continued their journey by rail to Columbus, Wisconsin. Here they began to encounter the wilderness and the remainder of the journey was a slow and painful progress by means of an ox team, finally reaching Trempealeau Valley in October of the same year in time to erect with their crude implements, a rude log cabin on the site which became to him home. But I think that is enough story telling for one day. I must go and see that little George gets his supper.”

And turning to my mother she said, “Well, Mrs. Woychik, will you agree that Susanna come and help with our parties?”

“Yes,” my mother smiled. She still had very little English but understood what was being asked of her.

So we took our leave for the time being, and it was arranged that I should be at the Markham house on next Saturday at 9 a.m. in order to help with the preparation for the party as well as serving at the party itself.