"Colonel Connor's ⁽³⁾ soldiers are comin' to Franklin, Ma, I heard there's about five hundred of 'em," Joe anxiously announced to his mother, Jane Nelson.

Jane questioned,"They're comin' to get the leadin' brethren who have taken plural wives, and to take their property, ain't they?"

"No, Ma, I heard they're comin' to put down that rascal Pocatello ⁽⁴⁾, but they won't catch 'em. He's way too smart."

Jane thought a few minutes before saying: "Oh, Joe, the Missouri ⁽⁵⁾ men in the cavalry and that Colonel Connor hate us Mormons so much that I'll bet they do real bad things."

"Yes, Ma, I suspect they will...but I feel sorry for them squaws and papooses, " Joe responded.

"Brother Brigham told us to feed the Indians and share what little we have with them, not fight them," Jane said as she turned to stir the lumpy dick cooking in the big iron pot on the fire. It was an icy day in January ⁽⁶⁾, and Jane was tired of being cold. And now she was anxious about the news, even though her older son, Will had told her about this possibility several days ago.

Joe's older brother, Will, had not come home from Franklin, and Elvira, Will's 26 year old wife, was over at the Mendenhall's ⁽⁷⁾, helping Sister Emmaline make soap. Elvira had her four little children with her.

Joe asked his mother if she had eaten anything but lumpy dick. Jane, still stirring the contents of the black iron pot, turned and said that Price, who was living down at Logan, had sent some deer meat over yesterday and Elvira had made a stew with the turnips they had. Price and his wife, Lydia, had six children, the youngest was just born two weeks ago ⁽⁸⁾, and Jane had gone down to help.

Joe, pacing around in front of the fireplace of the little log cabin, said, "them soldiers have good provisions and money. I heard that Col. Connor would pay well for scouts to help him find old Pocatello. Ma, I think I am going to help him. We need the things they have and if I don't help him find them the bad Indians, he or his soldiers might just hurt some of our people. They want us to be there tonight and guide them through the valley as they march all night. They're going to sneak up on the Indians."

"Joseph Smith Nelson ⁽⁹⁾, my dear son, named for the Prophet, please be careful. You're a good man, please don't do anything that would bring shame on your Nelson name or on the Latter-day Saints," Jane said.

"Yes, Ma, I'll be careful. I'm goin' to ask Edd ⁽¹⁰⁾ if he wants to come help. That is if he can stay away from Ann that long. I heard that Ol' Port Rockwell ⁽¹¹⁾ was coming with Connor as his Indian scout. Maybe we'll get to see Ol' Port. Good night, Ma, I love you."

With that, Joe put his big cloak back on, took some jerky out of the crock by the fireplace and headed out the door. The wind was whistling through the quaking asps and powdery snow was blowing. Cache Valley was right cold in the winter and this was an extra cold night.

Jane hoped Elvira and the grandchildren would be home soon, before it got dark and colder. Will had been in Franklin at a meeting with the brethren, but now she figured he may be later because the soldiers were coming.

In a while, Elvira ⁽¹²⁾ rode in with her children, six year old William, five year old Elvira, three year old Martha and 16 month old Luna, bundled up in the back of the buggy. The children ran into the house. Little Willy excitedly exclaimed, "Grandma, soldiers are comin' and some of 'em are comin' to our cabin."

"What is that, darling," Jane said as Elvira opened the canvas door and came in.

"Yes, mother," Elvira answered. "Will is with the soldiers and eight of them are coming to sleep in our barn tonight. I have some fresh mutton and a sack of flour out in the rig, and I got some potatoes and onions from the Mendenhalls-lets get a big dinner made before they all get here-they'll be hungry for good food."

"I made lumpy dick, but we can give it to poor Sam-that dog hasn't been feeling too good since he was kicked by the mule," said Jane as she put some more wood on the fire. In a few minutes the women were busy preparing the meal-it seemed like Christmas. They hadn't had so much food to prepare since Christmas a month ago.

The cabin was warm, with the big fire in the fireplace. The smell of the frying meat and potatoes was perfuming the air. The children were helping their mother figure out how eight soldiers, their Pa, Ma, and Grandma, and, they too, could be seated around the old table. The food would be so good.

Jane remembered that Joe had said the solders are marching all night so they could sneak up on the Indians. She asked Elvira about that. Elvira responded: "Will said that most of the soldiers are marching tonight, but some of them who are already in town will get to sleep and then ride over before the peep of dawn."

They heard noises outside, there was Will and they could see soldiers. In a few minutes Will coming inside with the soldiers. They put their rifles by the door and took their hats off, laying them on top of the tepee of rifles. The soldiers smelled of tobacco smoke and sweat-they had been driving hard for several days up the mountain valleys, through mud and then snow. The soldiers had usually stopped at night, giving provisions to the Mormon settlers, who would feed them and let them bed down in their yards and barns. ⁽¹³⁾

These were rough cavalry men who were not used to being inside a cabin with Mormon women and children, but they still liked to check things out and make jokes. The children, quiet as mice in the wood bin, knew they were safe, Pa was there. Little Luna had already fallen asleep, she had nursed all the way home.

The soldiers were talking about the trip and about their mission, to show Ol' Pocatello, the other chiefs, and their braves that they must not bother the immigrants headed for Oregon and California. Although the soldiers seemed a little uncomfortable, they didn't hesitate to start eating the food that Jane and Elvira placed before them. Will cleared his throat, stopping the noise of forks on tin plates, "We'll have a blessing on the food, gentlemen."

A bearded soldier winked at little Martha as she reverently folded her arms in her lap and bowed her head. Will began, "Dear Lord, we give thanks for this food the soldiers have provided. We ask Thee to bless it so it will nourish our bodies and do us the good that we need..."

After dinner the soldiers wanted to light up their pipes, but William said they could go outside, which they did. Will accompanied them to the barn and helped them spread out the straw. Old Patsy, the milk cow, was tied to the far end of the barn. Will threw a few scraps to Winifred, the sow, lying in her place over by the plow. The soldiers, now lighting their pipes, began to talk about their mission, to surprise the Indians to try to get Pocatello, the worst of the chiefs who had led many raids against the immigrants headed west.

Their leader, Colonel Connor, had asked Will and his brothers, along with other local Mormons, when they were in Franklin, to help scout out the Indians. He said that Porter Rockwell would be there, but Port didn't know much about this country. The Nelson brothers had lived here now for three years and knew it like the back of their hands. Distrusting the U.S. Army, and Colonel Connor, they were a little hesitant to help, but Bishop Maughn ⁽¹⁴⁾ had talked with Will and the other brethren and had made it seem like it was their duty. And they wouldn't mind the military pay in both food and money.

Will told the soldiers he would come out and meet them before daybreak. The soldiers were tired and they quickly spread their blankets out on the straw, using their saddles to prop themselves up as they finished smoking their pipes. Five o'clock would come quickly. The wind was whistling through the big cracks in the rough log barn, and the soldiers were softly talking about what they would do to the Indians come daybreak.

When Will went back inside the cabin, Elvira and Jane had cleaned up the dishes and put the few pieces of furniture back where they belonged. Elvira asked Jane if she heard one of the soldiers saying that Colonel Connor, referring to Indian papooses, said "nits make lice," ⁽¹⁵⁾ and how he wanted them, along with all the squaws, killed too.

Will overhearing this, remarked, "in Franklin today I heard Colonel Connor say that they were after Pocatello and the other chiefs, Bear Hunter, Segguish and Lehi ⁽¹⁶⁾, and their braves. I reckon' they will leave the squaws and papooses alone."

It was late, the soldiers were quiet now, and so the Nelsons, as was their custom, knelt beside their chairs, holding hands. Jane was voice in family prayer tonight. After thanking the Lord for their blessings, and asking for a good night's sleep and safety on the morrow, come what may, the Nelsons got into their warm beds.

Morning came quickly. Jane was the first to rise. Elvira soon joined her at the fireplace. The embers were now beginning to ignite the kindling. Jane was bent over, blowing gently to hurry things up. Will approached and told his mother and wife that the soldiers would need a good breakfast and would surely want coffee. They had some coffee from the provisions the soldiers brought, so Jane filled the big black water kettle from the bucket near the door. The skim of ice on top spilled out into the pot. She would boil the coffee for the soldiers, adding egg shells to make it taste better, as her mother had taught her long ago in Tennessee before they had joined the Church.

Elvira was mixing up biscuits from the flour the soldiers brought. She had already put the lard pot near the blazing fire to soften the solid mass. She would make gravy from the bacon, with fresh milk, if William could get the cow milked among the now stirring soldiers.

Everyone seemed to be in a foul mood at breakfast. The soldiers were complaining about still being cold and tired. It was hard to make breakfast quickly for so many men with so few pots. It was colder outside than the soldiers were used to and they were grumbling about their orders from Colonel Connor. There were even disagreements with what those orders were. One said that the Colonel ordered them to kill every injun' buck, squaw and pappose, but others said that he just wanted to kill the chiefs and braves, and leave the squaws and papooses alone.

Breakfast over, the soldiers were out getting ready for the battle. It was still dark outside and the snow was coming down. Jane and Elvira were inside cleaning up. At least they didn't have to clean up tobacco spit-Will had emphatically told the soldiers that they would have to leave their chew and their bad language outside, away from the womenfolk.

Will had received orders from Bishop Maughan to go meet with Porter Rockwell, who had been camped on the hill above Beaver Creek all night and provide what assistance he could. It wasn't every day that a man so famous as Ol' Port would be in their country. Jane rehearsed to her son the many brave things Brother Porter had done. Then she added, " and I know he won't have nothing to do with the bad things I been hearin' from the soldiers." Will asked what she was talking about.

"I heard a couple of Missourian soldiers talking out the window that they hoped they could get some squaws alone," ⁽¹⁷⁾ Jane said.

Will said he would do everything he could to make sure that didn't happen and was sure that wasn't in Brother Porter's plans either.

Jane and Elvira bade good bye to Will as he left in the opposite direction the soldiers had gone. They would keep the children in the cabin today-it wasn't going to be a good day. The wind was howling and the snow was blowing.

About noon Joe came home alone. Everyone crowded around the fireplace to hear the what happened. "Ma and Elvira, Will and Edd was asked to help carry out the wounded soldiers. They will get paid good by Colonel Connor for this work, and they may not be home for a few days-they have to take the invalids in sleds one or two at a time down to Camp Floyd. The quartermaster has lots of provisions and warm blankets. The women down the valley will cook. They was about 15 soldiers killed and a bunch wounded-some was even froze." ⁽¹⁸⁾

What about the poor Indians, asked Jane. "Hundreds ⁽¹⁹⁾ of them are dead and a few got away. I heard that Pocatello, that 'ornery polecat, got clean away. Some of them Shoshone squaws fought right alongside the braves and were easily killed by the soldiers. Them that stayed in their wicky-ups were burned out by the soldiers and some of them Missourian soldiers did unspeakable things to them poor squaws."

Elvira asked if it was all over. Joe responded that Port Rockwell was disgusted at the whole affair ⁽²⁰⁾ and when he went to find Colonel Connor, he learned the Colonel had already gone to find whisky to celebrate his victory. He was bragging they would make him a general because of this ⁽²¹⁾. There would be no more trouble with the Indians.

Jane said, "then we must go see if there is anyone who needs our help. Tear up muslin and whatever you can find, Elvira. No one else is going to help them poor Lamanites." Elvira helped her mother-in-law get ready to go and said she would stay in the cabin with the children and wait for Will.

Joe helped his mother mount her horse, 'Ol Port. Joe remarked that maybe the horse would be meeting his namesake later in the day. Joe led toward the place down across Beaver Creek where the Indians had been camped for months.

Jane wasn't prepared for what they saw. In all of her fifty-eight years she hadn't witnessed such bloodshed. Smoldering wicky-ups, not a one left standing. There were stiff Indian bodies and signs of carnage everywhere. As they slowly rode down the trail, they saw an old brave still moving. They stopped and were ready to dismount when he turned to look at them, blood oozing out of his mouth and nose, staining the white snowbank. This effort caused him to fall back, lifeless. He had now gone to his happy hunting ground. They rode on.

Up a ways, near a clump of willows, Jane and Joe saw a mangey Indian dog who had been wounded, but was still alive, licking his wounds. They didn't have time for dogs. "There must be some Indians still alive someplace," Jane said as she nudged her horse onward. They came to a camp where they saw dead Indians, including squaws and papooses, lying just outside the wicky-up. Surely they hadn't put up a fight. Jane dismounted and walked toward the pitiful sight. They were dead and already frozen solid. She couldn't help but cry as she turned them over and pulled a thin blanket over their bloody faces. She said a silent prayer that they weren't abused by the Missourian soldiers before they were killed.

Joe asked his mother if she was ready to go home-it didn't look like there were any live Indians to be found. She said they must go on, she wanted to make sure. They continued their ride. Jane pulled her blanket over her head, as much to keep the blowing snow off as to keep Joe from seeing her streaming tears.

In a little while they came to another bunch of burned out wicky-ups. This camp was familiar to Jane. "This is where I came on Christmas Eve and delivered a squaw of twins," ⁽²²⁾ she said to Joe. Jane was hesitant to go further, but with courage she kicked 'Ol Port and he walked slowly into the burned out camp, stopping by the willows about where he had been left when Jane went inside the wicky-up a month before. Jane wondered if the horse remembered. She dismounted. There were signs of struggle in the area where the door of the still smoldering wicky-up had been, but no dead Indians.

Jane walked around and looked into the willows growing near the creek. There she found a dead buck, his face in the water, blood tinting the water pink as it moved among the icy branches on the creek bank. Jane continued to search, in spite of Joe's saying he didn't see any thing alive. There were many places where critically injured Indians could be hiding-Joe and Jane could be attacked in a last revenge.

Suddenly, Jane heard a noise, a little cough, coming from the clump of small cedars behind where the wicky-up had stood only six hours ago. She hastened, fearful of what she would find. Her heart raced, she suddenly felt nauseated, her hands, in the mittens Elvira had knitted for her, were now sweating.

Jane walked into the cedars, pushing limbs aside, knocking off hard frozen snow. There, beside a large cedar was a dead squaw, with her face down in the blood stained snow. There were blankets and skins beside her, all was still. Jane walked over and gently moved the woman's head and gasped when she saw the familiar face. The squaw was dead, her throat slit-unlike regular battle wounds. Jane's foot touched something hard under the rabbit skin blanket, she lifted it and saw a frozen baby-a twin she had delivered only a month ago. Where was the other one and where were the other children?

Jane looked around but did not see or hear anything. Then, she heard noise from under the cedars, something was moving. Half afraid there was a wounded buck who would lunge at her, Jane's instincts were telling her to run, but stronger instincts were telling her to stay to help. Then, Jane could see the papoose, the girl who was there when her mother was delivered, coming from her hiding place. She had recognized Jane and was coming to her, holding a small bundle of rabbit skins.

The little girl's face was contorted with fear, there was blood on her forehead and in her matted hair, but Jane could see no wound. Jane reached out to take the bundle the girl was handing her. Looking inside, she saw it contained the lifeless body of the other twin, who was still warm. Jane gently held the bundle, motioning for Joe to come. The Indian girl stood motionless, still afraid. Jane handed the bundle to Joe, who shook his head when she saw its pathetic contents. At that moment the little Indian girl rushed to Jane, who was by now kneeling down in the snow with her arms stretched out toward her.

The papoose girl was, true to her Shoshone heritage, not crying or making a sound, but she was shaking uncontrollably. Jane held her tightly, picking up her thin little body and holding it close.

Joe came close and in words and gestures that the girl seemed to understand, asked if there were others still alive. The papoose talked for the first time, saying words that neither of the Nelsons knew, but they still understood that everyone was dead.

Jane carried the girl and put her upon the back of the waiting horse. Jane wanted to take the girl home, feed and bathe her, but knew she couldn't go home if there were any more Indians who needed her care, so they kept going away from their cabin on Beaver Creek.

For two more hours they continued to go from Indian camp to camp. They found dead Indians at each camp, some Shoshone, some Bannocks, a few Gosiutes.

They came upon other Mormons doing what they were doing-the women trying to find wounded Indians to help and the men guarding the way, still fearful of attack by a mortally wounded Indian. More bodies and blood. There were a few wounded Indians who were being treated by the Mormons. Jane asked if there was anything she could do, still holding the little girl tightly in the blanket. It was getting late and they were still headed away from home.

They came upon Bishop Maughan, to whom they gave an accounting of what they had witnessed that afternoon. He said the fight had been horribly unfair, the soldiers were now gone and most of the Indians who had not been killed had also fled to the north country with Pocatello.

Bishop Maughan told them he heard that shortly after the battle, while the soldiers were still looking for booty they could steal, they came across a dead squaw with a papoose trying to suckle from its mother's icy breast. Bishop Maughan shuttered as he said the soldiers took the life of the baby with a bayonet, ⁽²³⁾ laughing as they repeated

the phrase, "nits make lice," which they learned from Col. Connor.

Bishop Maughan then asked about the papoose Jane was holding. Jane briefly recounted the story of delivering the girl's mother a month ago, but the squaw and the other children were dead. The bishop then said he knew of three little Indian boys who needed a temporary home. He said he had already asked Will to take the boys. ⁽²⁴⁾ Then the bishop asked Jane if she would take the Indian girl to Sister Mary's. He said he knew the Hulls ⁽²⁵⁾ had wanted a girl, and if Jane kept her too long she would become attached to her. The Indian boys, he said, had people who would come for them.

Jane said she would do whatever the bishop asked her to do. Still, she felt a little strange that she could not keep this little papoose who was clinging so tightly to her.

On the way back to their cabin near Beaver Creek, the Nelsons stopped at the Hull's cabin. Jane took the little papoose inside. She was still very quiet, but shaking inside the blanket Jane was holding her in. Jane knew the three or four year old girl had not eaten for a while and wondered how she would take to Sister Mary.

Inside the warm cabin, Jane told Sister Mary what had happened, that Bishop Maughan had asked if Mary and Thomas would keep the girl. Mary seemed overwhelmed with pity, joy, and a sense of duty. She said of course she would take the girl, as she went to get some food for her. Mary came back with a bowl of milk and some elk jerky. The girl first smelled the milk and then took a drink, spilling it on her chin, her long tangled hair getting in the way. Then she grabbed for the jerky-she was hungry. Chewing it, she looked at Mary then looked at Jane, still on Jane's lap.

Jane then told Mary about finding the Indian girl holding her dead infant sister, with her mother and the baby's twin also dead. Jane also told about delivering the squaw a month ago and how the girl had helped her through the ordeal. The little papoose was beginning to feel more comfortable. She was now willing to leave Jane's lap.

As the girl moved, something dropped from a recess in her buckskin mother- hubbard ⁽²⁶⁾ dress. It was the little wooden doll that Jane had lost at the wicky-up on Christmas eve. The girl still had it. Jane picked it up and placed it in the girl's hand, closing her fingers around it. The girl now moved toward Mary, whose hands were outstretched.

Mary asked Jane if she knew the little girl's name. Jane said that she didn't speak Shoshone and that she had never learned her name. As she was holding the little girl, Mary said. "This little Lamanite has an Indian name we will try to learn, but, for now I can't think of a better name to call her than Jane." ⁽²⁷⁾

1. A fictitious story written on January 29, 2000, an anniversary of the Battle of Bear River or the Bear River Massacre, which occurred on January 29, 1863, near Franklin, Idaho. Franklin is the oldest town in Idaho, established in 1860 by Mormons settling the northern part of Cache Valley, Utah. In fact, for many years they thought they were in Utah. This war with the Shoshone Indians is little known in U.S., Utah or Idaho history, but in terms of deaths, was the worst battle between the U.S. Army and native Americans. There were more Indians killed in this four hour massacre than in any other battle between the U.S. Army and Indians. The characters and incidents in this story are all real and/or taken from documented history.

Jane Taylor Nelson is the 3^rd great grandmother of the author, John L. Hoopes. In January, 1862, she was a 58 year old widow. Her husband, Edmond had died in Mountainville, Utah, twelve years previously. Jane had thirteen children. At the time of this story her son, Price Williams (the author's 3^rd great grandfather) was living in Logan, about 20 miles from Franklin. Her sons William Goforth, who was 32 at the time, Joseph Smith, 25 years old and Edmond, 21, were living in Franklin. Her 28 year old son, Thomas, was living at Bloomington, Idaho at that time.

2. A fictitious story based on actual characters, like this one, written during the week of Christmas, 1999 by John L. Hoopes.

3. Colonel Patrick Edward Connor, an officer in the U.S. Army, stationed near present day Salt Lake City, Utah. He was a native Irishman who disliked Mormons and was sent to Utah to protect immigrants going to Oregon and California. For winning the Bear River Battle, he was promoted to General. Whether it was his idea to exterminate all of the Indians, including women and children, is debatable, as there are stories that the non-Mormon governor of Utah had given him this order.

This is Col. Patrick Edward Connor

4. Leader of the Bannock "tribe" of the Shoshone Indians. There were several "tribes" camped for the winter along Beaver Creek, a tributary of the Bear River, during the winter of 1862-63. According to many contemporaries, including "Uncle" Nick Wilson, Pocatello was the worst of the bunch. His braves did do terrible things to the white immigrants going to either Oregon or California, who had to travel through his country on their way to Ft. Hull near present day Pocatello, Idaho.

5. A number of Mormon haters from Missouri joined the US Army and came west with Col. Connor to get back at the Mormons. This group included apostates, including one Lieut. Chase. In his personal history, William Goforth Nelson, who later became a bishop of Franklin, wrote "while our sleds were being loaded at the camp, Fileman (Philomen) Merrill came to me and said that Chase was there in the tent and was shot through the shoulder and had one thigh broken, and he was begging to be administered to. Merrill wanted to know what I thought about it. I said that I thought it would be a wrong thing to do, so he was not administered to."

6. It was actually January 28, 1863.

7. An actual family, one of the first settlers of Franklin, along with the Nelsons.

8. Jane's oldest son, Price Williams, was living in Logan and Lydia Ann Lake Nelson did give birth to their seventh child, whom they named Hyrum, on January 10, 1863. Franklin and Logan are about 20 miles apart and it is not actually known if Jane had been to see her newest grandchild, but being a "normal" grandmother, it is presumed she did.

9. Joseph Smith Nelson was Jane's 9^th child. He was born in Caldwell County, Missouri, before the Nelsons moved to Nauvoo. Joseph Nelson was named after the Prophet, who baptized little Joseph in the Mississippi River when he was eight years old. Joseph Smith Nelson later became the Sheriff of Cache County, Utah. At the time of this story, he was 25 years old and had been married to Hannah Jane Patten for two years. They had one child, Joseph Smith Nelson, Jr., who was seven moths old at the time.

10. Edmond is Jane's11th child and would have been 20 years old at the time. He was single, but would marry Ann Peterson in about six weeks, on March 12, 1863. We know he was involved with the incident through the personal history of his older brother, William.

11. Porter Rockwell was a already legend in his own time. He did serve as an Indian scout for Col. Connor and according to William Nelson's personal history, did camp on a hill south of the river watching the fight. Rockwell was sent by Col. Connor to hire men to haul the wounded solders to Camp Floyd, later named Camp Douglas. He hired Samuel Parkinson, William Head, James and Isaac Packer, William and Edmond Nelson to take teams and sleds to the top of the hill above where the soldiers were camped. The soldiers loaded the wounded soldiers, then the Mormons, including William and Edmond, drove the teams to Utah.

12. Actual names and ages taken from Family Group Sheets found in Ancestral File.

13. As recorded in the history, "The Bear River Massacre," by Newell Hart.

14. Presiding Bishop of Cache Valley Peter Maughan.

15. A phrase actually attributed to Col. P. E. Connor.

16. Actual names of the Indian chiefs. All of them were killed in the battle, except Pocatello, who got away.

17. In Brigham Young's personal journal, when he recorded what was reported to him about the battle, he used the word "ravished" to describe what the soldiers did to the Indian squaws.

18. This is true according to the history, "The Bear River Massacre."

19. No one really knows how many Indians were killed, but it is estimated between 300-500.

20. We hope he was, but there is nothing found so far about Porter Rockwell's ideas about this war.

21. Col. Connor was promoted to General because he won this war.

22. This is the story, Jane's Silent Night, which is also fictitious. We don't really know what Jane Taylor Nelson was doing on Christmas Eve, 1862.

23. This story was recorded in the history, although there were two accounts. According to Newell Hart, who compiled the "Bear River Massacre" the soldiers killed the baby. According to the soldier's report, recorded in Hart's book, they gave the baby to some other squaw.

24. It is recorded in the "Bear River Massacre" that William and Elvira Nelson did take in three little Shoshone Indian boys for after the incident. We have not yet learned how long they kept them.

25. Thomas and Mary Benson Hull were both born in Ireland and had nine children before immigrating to Utah as Mormon Pioneers. Their youngest child, Brigham Young Hull, was born in Scotland in 1852, and would have been ten years old at the time of the incident.

26. "Uncle" Nick Wilson, in his autobiography, "White Indian Boy" described the deer skin clothing his Indian mother made for him as a Mother Hubbard dress, which he said all the Shoshone papooses, regardless of gender, wore.

27. They later learned that her Shoshone name was Pasoats, but she was called Jane for the rest of her life. Jane married George Heber Riley and became the mother of ten children.

This is a picture of Jane "Pasoats" Hull Riley, the papoose named Jane.