Miss Annie Coleson's Own Narrative of Her Captivity Among the Sioux Indians

By Ann Coleson

Introducing the republication of the captivating and historically significant 1875 public domain book: "Miss Annie Coleson's Own Narrative of

• Language: English
• Publisher: TrueAdventureClassics
• Release date: Apr 5, 2024
• ISBN: 9798869300683

Book preview

Miss Annie Coleson's

Own Narrative of Her

Captivity Among the

Sioux Indians

Ann Coleson

Originally published

1875

ON the night of the 12th of January, the dwelling of Mrs. A. Coleson, near New Ulm, in Minnesota, was attacked by a straggling party of Sioux Indians, under their Chief, White Eagle, a warrior of some renown. This dwelling was built in primitive style, of logs, in the form of a double cabin, of which one room was tenanted by Mrs. Coleson and her family of four persons, two sons and two daughters, all grown to maturity; while the other was occupied by a hunter named Marts, his wife and three children. The hour was twelve o'clock at night. One of the daughters was still busily engaged at the loom, and the other was spinning flax. Both young men had retired to rest, so had the children of Mrs. Marts, though that lady and Mrs. Coleson were sitting up waiting the return of Marts, and wondering why he did not come.

In these new settlements, it is not unusual for families, to be supplied with food for months from the forest and the river. Thus the skill of the husband and father is brought into daily requisition. His return at nightfall laden with the spoils of the chase, is anticipated with the fondest anxiety by the wife and her little ones. Should he be unavoidably detained by accidents, wandering out of the way, or other misfortunes, she experiences all the tortures of apprehension and suspense; goes to the door and looks out, listening every few minutes, whether can she banish the thought that something dreadful has happened, until re-assured by his well known step and welcome voice. On the evening in question, the darkness of the night, the lateness of the hour, the unusual absence of Marts, and perhaps a sense of impending danger, all conspired to give earnestness and tone to the conversation of the two elderly women as they sat cowering over the fire, whose light and warmth irradiated the entire apartment. There's something going to happens, I know very well, said Mrs. Coleson, her voice falling to a mysterious whisper, and if it is not death, never you believe me again; John says it is nothing, but I am older than John."

You speak of the dog, said Mrs. Marts.

Yes the dog you heard him as well as myself, sighing and moaning like a human creature in pain, and all night long, too not a regular howl, but a cry of agony I couldn't sleep for it, you couldn't sleep for it, Ann and Sally couldn't sleep for it.

Hark! what's that? interrupted Mrs. Marts. Both women listened.

Owls, said Mrs. Coleson.

That isn't their usual manner of hooting, is it? inquired Mrs. Marts, I will go to the door and listen, maybe I'll hear something of Marts."

Don't you open the door! exclaimed Mrs. Coleson. You don't know who or what you may be letting in!

Why, what do you mean? said Mrs. Marts, eyeing her companion with a soft of amazed curiosity.

Just what I say, don't you open that door!

There's somebody, and Mrs. Mart held up her finger in a listening attitude.

The horses, I guess, answered Mrs. Coleson. These animals were enclosed as usual in a pond near the house, and by repeated snorting and galloping announced the presence of some object of terror.

You had better call John, said Mrs. Marts.

I will, and Mrs. Coleson ascended to the loft, where her sons slept. John the elder was wide awake and had been for some time. He had often been upon the point of calling his brother Thomas, but had been as often restrained by the fear of incurring ridicule, and the reproach of timidity, in that neighborhood, an unpardonable blemish on the character of a man. From the commencement of the alarming symptoms, he had felt convinced that mischief was brewing. Rising at once, when his mother appeared, the movement awakened Thomas, who demanded What, was the matter? Before either had time to reply, hasty steps were heard in the yard, and quickly afterwards several raps at the door accompanied by a demand for admittance in a voice evidently intended to simulate that of Marts.

By this time both Mrs. Coleson; and her sons had reached the basement, while Mrs. Marts, thinking only of her husband, hastily arose and advanced to withdraw the bar, which secured the door, when Mrs. Coleson, who had lived long upon the frontier and probably had detected the Indian tone in the words just uttered, sprang forward and ordered Mrs. Marts not to admit them, declaring that they were Indians.

Boys, to your guns she cried, with the look and manner of a heroine. The young men immediately sprung to their arms, which were always charged, prepared to repel an enemy. The Indians finding that their true character had been discovered, began to thunder at the door with great violence, but a single shot from a loop-hole compelled them to shift the attack to some less exposed point and unfortunately they discovered the back door of the cabin, which was much less securely guarded and which communicated with the apartment where the girls were at work.

The rifles of the brothers could not be brought to bear upon all