162 MINNESOTA STATE HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY. 
beasts and the same dreary waste of woods. No sound broke upon the ear 
but the soughing of wind through the evergreen tops, the howling of 
wolves as they prowled around the dwelling and the cry of panthers from 
the neighboring trees. 
The next three years were spent at Wasso, a lumbering camp far back 
in the pineries of northern Wisconsin, Mrs. Bonniwell cooking for forty 
men during the winter and for a smaller number in the summer. She saw 
no white woman while there, but the Indian squaws came frequently to the 
camp, generally bringing something to ‘“Kikishia.” 
From the camp just described the Bonniwells moved to Eagle River, 
where she was the only white woman within a radius of more than one 
hundred miles. When her son William was born, the only help she got 
was from an Indian squaw who was at the same time doctor, midwife and 
nurse. 
Amid all her trials and hardships she never complained, nor did she 
even suspect that she was doing anything worthy of special credit, much 
less that she was a true heroine. Not so the government, which in recogni- 
tion of her great services and heroic acts gave her one hundred and sixty 
acres of land, the patent for which was signed by President Buchanan dur- 
ing his administration. 2 
The following letter from a younger sister who, a mere child at the time, 
lived with her through all these trying years will be of interest to all mem- 
bers of this society: 
Chicago, Jan. 28, 1900. 
Mrs. Kennedy, 
Dear Friend:— 
At one time on Eagle river, the chimney in the shanty caught fire, which 
burned one part of the roof. Annie strapped Alfred on my back and took 
the baby in her own arms and started for the men who had gone to see 
an Indian dance. Oh, it was so bitter cold! In running down the bank, 
we met a pack of wolves. We had to run across the lake, about a mile. The 
wolves turned and chased us. She first threw her own hood off, and as 
we were running she seized my hood and threw to them. Then she took 
the baby’s stockings off, and every time we threw something down they 
would stop and tear it to pieces. In this way we could gain time. When 
we got nearly over the lake, the men heard our screams and came running 
toward us. When we got to the Indians’ wigwam, the baby’s feet were 
frozen, and Annie’s hands were so badly frozen that there were large sores 
on them. 
I remember we had a very hard time when Walter went down the river, 
just before the rise which took the logs down. He didn’t get back for five 
weeks. For the first few weeks we had Indian meal to eat, but after that we 
were fed by the Indians. They would bring us fish and wild rice. She 
would give them salt for it. The Indians were very kind to us at that time, 
but that spring the logging company sent up another woman whose name 
was Mrs. J. Fox. She was very unkind to the Indians. When they came, 
they brought up a good many canoe-loads of provisions and stored it away 
in our dug-out. The Indians didn’t know it was in the hole in the bank. 
That night they made a raid on us and drove us out and stole everything 
we had in the shanty. When the friendly Indians found out that they were 
Annie’s things they brought them back. 
