If Yates is here, I have not seen him. I’m not allowed to talk to anyone. The guards watch over us like vultures. Any deviation in the rules and punishment is swift and painful. I know because I quit digging up rocks long enough to catch a moments breath and had a rod come down across my shoulders. Rule number 3 don’t stop working until a guard tells you to quit. I gave the guard a look and he smacked me again. I forgot about the keep your head down rule. I recognize a couple of soldiers from Ft Shasta also here as slaves but I don’t know their names. I never had personal contact with them at Bear Country. I think they are just as confused and disoriented as I am. I wish Yates was here. He would know what to do to get us out of this mess. I have been praying that Yates escaped the ambush.
I was forced to work the entire day with practically no food at all, and only two ladles of water. Every muscle in my body hurts. After digging up the rocks we have to transport them to be washed. I have bruises all over my back. I have dirt so far under my finger nails that several of my fingers are sore. I stink and I have a headache. Someone pinch me so that I can wake up from this nightmare.