Saga of the Sanpitch Volume 17, 1985 - Sanpete County

She reached into the cupboard and took out a pan of fresh warm milk she had just strained and placed there
to cool. He tasted it and poured it back into her pan. Then she took a pan with thick yellow cream; again he
tasted it and poured it back. She felt herself getting panicky, but knew she must not show it. She looked
Around. He was talking fast in his native tongue. The only thing now she could think of was the Givens' family
massacre. She knew the Indian braves were mean if they had liquor„ What would she do?
Finally she saw the churn and as a last resort filled his bucket with fresh buttermilk„ This was it! He
lifted the bucket to his lips and with a satisfied grunt turned and went up the steps. When she finally
composed herself, she ventured up the steps. He was crossing the field, stopped and drank again of the
delicious cool buttermilk. She was relieved as she poured the milk he had refused into a pan for the chickens.
Elizabeth had just finished mixing bread and set it to raise overnight, washed her hands in the tin washbasin
and opened the door and threw the water out. But instead of the water landing on the ground, it went right in
the face of an Indian. She was shocked and nearly overcome with fear, as he was on the farm and Indians
were not always friendly. She grabbed a towel and asked him to come in while she did the best she could to
dry his face, hair and coat. She could see he was very angry blaming her for her rudeness, not listening to her
apology. Johanna, her sister, saw the need for quick action. She grabbed a plate of cookies and offered him
coffee to go with them. This surprised him and he accepted the treat. After a few more cookies and some to
take with him, he left. The women knew it was better to feed than to fight the Indians, but were more careful
where they emptied their wash water.
Ann was home alone with her children on the farm. Her husband had gone to the mountains to get a
load of coal. It took two days for the trip. Their farm home was three miles from town, and times like this she
worried about Indians. Often Indians would walk through the fields to other towns and beg at the farm homes.
They were mostly friendly but occasionally they would steal or even kill. It was hard to trust them. Ann always
kept food ready to give them. She didn't mind when the men were home but this night she was alone with
small children.
It was well after dark and she was getting the children ready for bed when the door knob rattled and
turned. She stood frozen, but when it stopped and no one came in she relaxed and went on with her work. It
turned again, this time she was sure, so she armed herself with the stove poker and went bravely to the door.
She grabbed the door knob and opened the door. There stood the pet horse. He had become lonesome when
the other horses were gone and came to the house for company.
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