THE INDIANS AND THE MILK PAILS 45 



Stroudwater- where now are pleasant farms, a 

 Frances E. Willard public school building, a 

 store, a grist-mill, many pretty homes, and pleas- 

 ant shaded streets was then a dense forest 

 where bears and wolves roamed about, and where 

 deer and wild game were plentiful. 



One evening Mrs. Patrick and the children 

 were alone in the house. The mother had just 

 been to the barn and had milked the two cows. 

 Bringing back two pails full of foamy new milk 

 she set them on the table in the middle of the 

 kitchen, and going to the big fire-place began to 

 prepare supper. She pulled out the crane an 

 iron rod like a long arm and had just swung 

 the kettle over the bright log fire when she 

 thought she heard a slight noise. Standing still 

 to listen, she was sure she heard stealthy foot- 

 steps. Before she had time to think what she ( 

 could do to save herself and her little children, 

 the door-latch clicked, the door opened, and in 

 walked two savage Indians. 



Mrs. Patrick was a brave woman, but see- 

 ing at a glance that the Indians had on all 

 their war-paint and wore tomahawks at their 

 belts, she knew that their visit was not a friendly 

 one, and her heart was full of fear for her 



