At Cheyenne a number of fine-looking, well-dressed young Indian men came
up to me and addressed me in English. I did not recognize some of them,
and they told me they went to school to me in '75, '76 and '77. I
remember them as dirty little long-haired, blanket Indians. It made my
heart strong to take these manly young men by the hand and to hear them
say, "You were my first teacher."

One night, when I was coming home, we got into camp, and the Indian tent
had on one side a man and his wife, his son and daughter, and his baby
twins. On the other side of the fire, another man, wife and child, four
dogs, two puppies, and back of the fire a man and his wife and two young
men and myself. When supper was ready, the dogs were put outside, the
children hushed, and the head man said, "Winona pray." They were all
strangers to me but two of them, so you may know I was surprised. I
prayed, and when I finished, all said, "Ho, ho, ho," that is, all the
men. I was again surprised at the universal consent or endorsement of
the petition. I had some rich experiences, many hardships new to me, but
I sowed seed which I doubt not will spring up. A half-breed Indian, Joe
Hodgkiss, and his wife, were very kind to me.

When I got in sight of the house here, men stood all along the road
waiting to shake hands with me. I should not have undertaken the trip,
but the girls were about fifteen years old, and if they were not in
school this winter they never would be. I could not see the good
material in them wasted. Mr. Reed could not go, and he did not want
Elias to leave his school to go. So I hired a team and went. I am glad
I did. God meant me to get into the homes and hearts of those strangers,
and I had no fear but that he planned it all.

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