WAU-BUN, THE

EARLY DAY IN THE NORTHWEST. 

BY

MRS. JOHN H. KINZIE, OF CHICAGO. 

"If we but knew the exact meaning of the word 'WAU-BUN, 'we should be happy. "--_Critic_. 

"WAU-BUN--The dawn--the break of day. "--_Ojibeway Vocabulary_. 

 * * * * *

PHILADELPHIA

1873

PREFACE. 

Every work partaking of the nature of an autobiography is supposed todemand an apology to the public. To refuse such a tribute, would be torecognize the justice of the charge, so often brought against ourcountrymen--of a too great willingness to be made acquainted with thedomestic history and private affairs of their neighbors. 

It is, doubtless, to refute this calumny that we find travellers, forthe most part, modestly offering some such form of explanation as this, to the reader: "That the matter laid before him was, in the first place, simply letters to friends, never designed to be submitted to other eyes, and only brought forward now at the solicitation of wiser judges thanthe author himself. "

No such plea can, in the present instance, be offered. The record ofevents in which the writer had herself no share, was preserved incompliance with the suggestion of a revered relative, whose name oftenappears in the following pages. "My child, " she would say, "write thesethings down, as I tell them to you. Hereafter our children, and evenstrangers, will feel interested in hearing the story of our early livesand sufferings. " And it is a matter of no small regret andself-reproach, that much, very much, thus narrated was, throughnegligence, or a spirit of procrastination, suffered to pass unrecorded. 

With regard to the pictures of domestic life and experience (preserved, as will be seen, in journals, letters, and otherwise), it is true theirpublication might have been deferred until the writer had passed awayfrom the scene of action; and such, it was supposed, would have beentheir lot--that they would only have been dragged forth hereafter, toshow to a succeeding generation what "The Early Day" of our Westernhomes had been. It never entered the anticipations of the most sanguinethat the march of improvement and prosperity would, in less than aquarter of a century, have so obliterated the traces of "the firstbeginning, " that a vast and intelligent multitude would be crying outfor information in regard to the early settlement of this portion of ourcountry, which so few are left to furnish. 

An opinion has been expressed, that a comparison of the present timeswith those that are past, would enable our young people, emigrating fromtheir luxurious homes at "the East, " to bear, in a spirit of patienceand contentment, the slight privations and hardships they are at thisday called to meet with. If, in one instance, this should be the case, the writer may well feel happy to have incurred even the charge ofegotism, in giving thus much of her own history. 

It may be objected that all that is strictly personal, might have beenmore modestly put forth under the name of a third person; or that theevents themselves and the scenes might have been described, while thoseparticipating in them might have been kept more in the background. Inthe first case, the narrative would have lost its air of truth andreality--in the second, the experiment would merely have been tried ofdressing up a theatre for representation, and omitting the actors. 

Some who read the following sketches may be inclined to believe that aresidence among our native brethren and an attachment growing out of ourpeculiar relation to them, have exaggerated our sympathies, and oursense of the wrongs they have received at the hands of the whites. Thisis not the place to discuss that point. There is a tribunal at which manshall be judged for that which he has meted out to his fellow-man. 

May our countrymen take heed that their legislation shall never unfitthem to appear "with joy, and not with grief, " before that tribunal!

CHICAGO, July, 1855. 

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. 

Departure from Detroit

CHAPTER II. 

Michilimackinac--American Fur Company--Indian Trade--MissionSchool--Point St. Ignace

CHAPTER III. 

Arrival at Green Bay--Mrs. Arnot--General Root--Political Dispatches--ASummerset--Shanty-Town--M. Rolette--IndianMorning Song--Mr. Cadle's Mission--Party at Miss Doty's--MissesGrignon--Mrs. Baird's Party--Mrs. Beall

CHAPTER IV. 

Arrangements for Travelling--Fox River--Judge Doty--JudgeRéaume--M. Boilvin--Canadian Voyageurs: their Songs--TheKakalin--Wish-tay-yun--Rev. Eleazar Williams--Passage throughthe Rapids--Grande Chûte--Krissman

CHAPTER V. 

Beautiful Encampment--Winnebago Lake--Miss Four-Legs--GarlicIsland--Wild Rice

CHAPTER VI. 

Breakfast at Betty More's--Judge Law--Fastidiousness; whatcame of it

CHAPTER VII. 

Butte des Morts--French Cognomens--Serpentine Course of FoxRiver--Lake Puckaway--Lac de Boeuf--Fort Winnebago. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Major and Mrs. Twiggs--A Davis--An Indian Funeral--ConjugalAffliction--Indian Chiefs; Talk-English--The Wild-Cat--TheDandy

CHAPTER IX. 

Housekeeping--The First Dinner

CHAPTER X. 

Indian Payment--Pawnee Blanc--The Washington Woman--RaisingFunds

CHAPTER XI. 

Louisa--Garrison Life--Dr. Newhall--Affliction--DomesticAccommodations--Ephraim--New-Year's Day--Native Custom--Day-kau-ray'sViews of Education--Captain Harney's Mince-Pie

CHAPTER XII. 

Lizzie Twiggs--Preparation for a Journey--The Regimental Tailor

CHAPTER XIII. 

eparture from Fort Winnebago--Duck Creek--Upset in aCanoe--Pillon--Encamping in Winter--Four Lakes--IndianEncampment--Blue Mound--Morrison's--A Tennessee Woman

CHAPTER XIV. 

Rev. Mr. Kent--Losing One's Way--A Tent Blown Down--Discoveryof a Fence--Hamilton's Diggings--Frontier Housekeeping--Wm. S. Hamilton--A Miner--Hard Riding--Kellogg's Grove

CHAPTER XV. 

Rock River--- Dixon's--John Ogie--Missing the Trail--Hours ofTrouble--Famine in the Camp--Relief

CHAPTER XVI. 

A Pottowattamie Lodge--A Tempest--Piché's--Hawley's--The DuPage--Mr. Dogherty--The Aux Plaines--Mrs. Lawton--WolfPoint--Chicago

CHAPTER XVII. 

Fort Dearborn--Chicago in 1831--First Settlement of Chicago--JohnKinzie, Sen. ---Fate of George Forsyth--Trading Posts--CanadianVoyageurs--M. St. Jean--Louis la Liberté

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Massacre at Chicago

CHAPTER XIX. 

Massacre, continued--Mrs. Helm--Ensign Ronan--CaptainWells--Mrs. Holt--Mrs. Heald--The Sau-ga-nash--Sergeant Griffith--Mrs. Burns--Black Partridge and Mrs. Lee--Nau-non-gee and SergeantHays

CHAPTER XX. 

Treatment of American Prisoners by the British--Captivity of Mr. Kinzie--Battle on Lake Erie--Cruelty of General Proctor'sTroops--General Harrison--Rebuilding of Fort Dearborn--Red Bird--AHumorous Incident--Cession of the Territory around Chicago

CHAPTER XXI. 

Severe Spring Weather--Pistol-Firing--Milk Punch--A Sermon--Pre-emptionto "Kinzie's Addition"--Liberal Sentiments

CHAPTER XXII. 

The Captives

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Colonel McKillip--Second-Sight--Ball at Hickory Creek--Arrivalof the "Napoleon"--Troubles of Embarkation

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Departure for Port Winnebago--A Frightened Indian--Encampmentat Dunkley's Grove--Horses Lost--Getting Mired--An Aguecured by a Rattlesnake--Crystal Lake--Story of the Little Rail

CHAPTER XXV. 

Return Journey, continued--Soldiers' Encampment--Big-Foot Lake--Villageof Maunk-suck--A Young Gallant--Climbing--Mountain-Passes--TurtleCreek--Kosh-ko-nong--Crossing a Marsh--Twenty-Mile Prairie--Hastings'sWoods--Duck Creek--Brunet--Home

CHAPTER XXVI. 

The Agency--The Blacksmith's House--Building a Kitchen--Four-Legs, theDandy--Indian Views of Civilization--Efforts of M. Mazzuchelli--Charlotte

CHAPTER XXVII. 

The Cut-Nose--The Fawn--Visit of White Crow--Parting withFriends--Krissman--Louisa again--The Sunday-School

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Plante--Removal--Domestic Inconveniences--Indian Presents--GrandmotherDay-kau-ray--Indian Customs--Indian Dances--The Medicine-Dance--IndianGraves--Old Boilvin's Wake

CHAPTER XXIX. 

Indian Tales--Story of the Red Fox

CHAPTER XXX. 

Story of Shee-shee-banze

CHAPTER XXXI. 

Visit to Green Bay--Disappointment--Return Journey--Knaggs's--BlindIndian--Ma-zhee-gaw-gaw Swamp--Bellefontaine

CHAPTER XXXII. 

Commencement of the Sauk War--WinnebagoCouncil--Crély--Follett--Bravery--The Little Elk--AnAlarm--Man-Eater and hisParty--An Exciting Dance

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

Fleeing from the Enemy--Mâtâ--Old Smoker--Meeting withMenomonees--Raising the Wind--Garlic Island--Winnebago Rapids--TheWaubanakees--Thunder-Storm--Vitelle--Guardapié--Fort Howard

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Panic at Green Bay--Tidings of Cholera--Green Bay Flies--Doyle, the Murderer--Death of Lieutenant Foster--A Hardened Criminal--GoodNews from the Seat of War--Departure for Home--Shipwreckat the Grand Chûte--A Wet Encampment--An UnexpectedArrival--Reinforcement of Volunteers--La Grosse Américaine--Arrivalat Home

CHAPTER XXXV. 

Conclusion of the War--Treaty at Rock Island--Cholera among theTroops--Wau-kaun-kah--Wild-Cat's Frolic at the Mee-kan--Surrenderof the Winnebago Prisoners

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

Delay in the Annual Payment--Scalp-Dances--Groundless Alarm--Arrivalof Governor Porter--Payment--Escape of the Prisoners--NeighborsLost--Reappearance--Robineau--Bellaire

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

Agathe--"Kinzie's Addition"--Tomah--Indian Acuteness--IndianSimplicity

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

Famine--Day-kau-ray's Daughter--Noble Resolution of a Chief--Breadfor the Hungry--Rev. Mr. Kent--An Escaped Prisoner--TheCut-Nose again--Leave-taking with our Red Children--Departurefrom Fort Winnebago

APPENDIX

THE "EARLY DAY" IN THE NORTHWEST. 

CHAPTER I. 

DEPARTURE FROM DETROIT. 

It was on a dark, rainy evening in the month of September, 1830, that wewent on board the steamer "Henry Clay, " to take passage for Green Bay. All our friends in Detroit had congratulated us upon our good fortune inbeing spared the voyage in one of the little schooners which at thistime afforded the ordinary means of communication with the few anddistant settlements on Lakes Huron and Michigan. 

Each one had some experience to relate of his own or Of his friends'mischances in these precarious journeys--long detentions on the St. Clair flats--furious head-winds off Thunder Bay, or interminable Calmsat Mackinac or the Manitous. That which most enhanced our sense ofpeculiar good luck, was the true story of one of our relatives havingleft Detroit in the month of June and reached Chicago in the Septemberfollowing, having been actually three months in performing what issometimes accomplished by even a sail-vessel in four days. 

But the certainty of encountering similar misadventures would haveweighed little with me. I was now to visit, nay, more, to become aresident of that land which had, for long years, been to me a region ofromance. Since the time when, as a child, my highest delight had been inthe letters of a dear relative, describing to me his home and mode oflife in the "Indian country, " and still later, in his felicitousnarration of a tour with General Cass, in 1820, to the sources of theMississippi--nay, even earlier, in the days when I stood at my teacher'sknee, and spelled out the long word Mich-i-li-mack-i-nac, that distantland, with its vast lakes, its boundless prairies, and its mightyforests, had possessed a wonderful charm for my imagination. Now I wasto see it!--it was to be my home!

Our ride to the quay, through the dark by-ways, in a cart, the onlyvehicle which at that day could navigate the muddy, unpaved streets ofDetroit, was a theme for much merriment, and not less so, our descent ofthe narrow, perpendicular stair-way by which we reached the littleapartment called the Ladies' Cabin. We were highly delighted with theaccommodations, which, by comparison, seemed the very climax of comfortand convenience; more especially as the occupants of the cabinconsisted, beside myself, of but a lady and two little girls. 

Nothing could exceed the pleasantness of our trip for the firsttwenty-four hours. There were some officers, old friends, among thepassengers. We had plenty of books. The gentlemen read aloudoccasionally, admired the solitary magnificence of the scenery aroundus, the primeval woods, or the vast expanse of water unenlivened by asingle sail, and then betook themselves to their cigar, or their game ofeuchre, to while away the hours. 

For a time the passage over Thunder Bay was delightful, but, alas! itwas not destined, in our favor, to belie its name. A storm came on, fastand furious--what was worse, it was of long duration. The pitching androlling of the little boat, the closeness, and even the sea-sickness, webore as became us. They were what we had expected, and were preparedfor. But a new feature of discomfort appeared, which almost upset ourphilosophy. 

The rain, which fell in torrents, soon made its way through every seamand pore of deck or moulding. Down the stair-way, through the joints andcrevices, it came, saturating first the carpet, then the bedding, until, finally, we were completely driven, "by stress of weather, " into theGentlemen's Cabin. Way was made for us very gallantly, and everyprovision resorted to for our comfort, and we were congratulatingourselves on having found a haven in our distress, when, lo! the seamsabove opened, and down upon our devoted heads poured such a flood, thateven umbrellas were an insufficient protection. There was nothing leftfor the ladies and children but to betake ourselves to the berths, which, in this apartment, fortunately remained dry; and here wecontinued ensconced the livelong day. Our dinner was served up to us onour pillows. The gentlemen chose the dryest spots, raised theirumbrellas, and sat under them, telling amusing anecdotes, and sayingfunny things to cheer us, until the rain ceased, and at nine o'clock inthe evening we were gladdened by the intelligence that we had reachedthe pier at Mackinac. 

We were received with the most affectionate cordiality by Mr. And Mrs. Robert Stuart, at whose hospitable mansion we had been for some daysexpected. 

The repose and comfort of an asylum like this, can be best appreciatedby those who have reached it after a tossing and drenching such as ourshad been. A bright, warm fire, and countenances beaming with kindestinterest, dispelled all sensations of fatigue or annoyance. 

After a season of pleasant conversation, the servants were assembled, the chapter of God's word was solemnly read, the hymn chanted, theprayer of praise and thanksgiving offered, and we were conducted to ourplace of repose. 

It is not my purpose here to attempt a portrait of those noble friendswhom I thus met for the first time. To an abler pen than mine should beassigned the honor of writing the biography of Robert Stuart. All whohave enjoyed the happiness of his acquaintance, or, still more, asojourn under his hospitable roof, will carry with them to their latesthour the impression of his noble bearing, his genial humor, his untiringbenevolence, his upright, uncompromising adherence to principle, hisardent philanthropy, his noble disinterestedness. Irving in his"Astoria, " and Franchere in his "Narrative, " give many striking traitsof his early character, together with events of his history of athrilling and romantic interest, but both have left the most valuableportion unsaid, his after-life, namely, as a Christian gentleman. 

Of his beloved partner, who still survives him, mourning on her bereavedand solitary pilgrimage, yet cheered by the recollection of her long anduseful course as a "Mother in Israel, " we will say no more than to offerthe incense of loving hearts, and prayers for the best blessings fromher Father in heaven. 

CHAPTER II

MICHILIMACKINAC. 

Michilimackinac! that gem of the Lakes! How bright and beautiful itlooked as we walked abroad on the following morning! The rain had passedaway, but had left all things glittering in the light of the sun as itrose up over the waters of Lake Huron, far away to the east. Before uswas the lovely bay, scarcely yet tranquil after the storm, but dottedwith canoes and the boats of the fishermen already getting out theirnets for the trout and whitefish, those treasures of the deep. Along thebeach were scattered the wigwams or lodges of the Ottawas who had cometo the island to trade. The inmates came forth to gaze upon us. A shoutof welcome was sent forth, as they recognized _Shaw-nee-aw-kee, _ who, from a seven years' residence among them, was well known to eachindividual. 

A shake of the hand, and an emphatic "_Bon-jour_--_bon-jour_, " is thecustomary salutation between the Indian and the white man. 

"Do the Indians speak French?" I inquired of my husband. 

"No; this is a fashion they have learned of the French traders duringmany years of intercourse. "

Not less hearty was the greeting of each Canadian _engagé_, as hetrotted forward to pay his respects to "Monsieur John, " and to utter along string of felicitations, in a most incomprehensible _patois_. I wasforced to take for granted all the good wishes showered upon "MadameJohn, " of which I could comprehend nothing but the hope that I shouldbe happy and contented in my "_vie sauvage_. "

The object of our early walk was to visit the Mission-house and schoolwhich had been some few years previously established at this place bythe Presbyterian Board of Missions. It was an object of especialinterest to Mr. And Mrs. Stuart, and its flourishing condition at thisperiod, and the prospects of extensive future usefulness it held out, might well gladden their philanthropic hearts. They had lived many yearson the island, and had witnessed its transformation, through God'sblessing on Christian efforts, from a worldly, dissipated community toone of which it might almost be said, "Religion was every man'sbusiness. " This mission establishment was the beloved child and thecommon centre of interest of the few Protestant families clusteredaround it. Through the zeal and good management of Mr. And Mrs. Ferry, and the fostering encouragement of the congregation, the school was ingreat repute, and it was pleasant to observe the effect of mental andreligious culture in subduing the mischievous, tricky propensities ofthe half-breed, and rousing the stolid apathy of the genuine Indian. 

These were the palmy days of Mackinac. As the head-quarters of theAmerican Fur Company, and the entrepôt of the whole Northwest, all thetrade in supplies and goods on the one hand, and in furs and products ofthe Indian country on the other, was in the hands of the parentestablishment or its numerous outposts scattered along Lakes Superiorand Michigan, the Mississippi, or through still more distant regions. 

Probably few are ignorant of the fact, that all the Indian tribes, withthe exception of the Miamis and the Wyandots, had, since the transfer ofthe old French possessions to the British Crown, maintained a firmalliance with the latter. The independence achieved by the UnitedStates did not alter the policy of the natives, nor did our Governmentsucceed in winning or purchasing their friendship. Great Britain, it istrue, bid high to retain them. Every year the leading men of theChippewas, Ottawas, Pottowattamies, Menomonees, Winnebagoes, Sauks, andFoxes, and even still more remote tribes, journeyed from their distanthomes to Fort Malden in Upper Canada, to receive their annual amount ofpresents from their Great Father across the water. It was amaster-policy thus to keep them in pay, and had enabled those whopractised it to do fearful execution through the aid of such allies inthe last war between the two countries. 

The presents they thus received were of considerable value, consistingof blankets, broadcloths or _strouding_, calicoes, guns, kettles, traps, silver-works (comprising arm-bands, bracelets, brooches; and ear-bobs), looking-glasses, combs, and various other trinkets distributed with noniggardly hand. 

The magazines and store-houses of the Fur Company at Mackinac were theresort of all the upper tribes for the sale of their commodities, andthe purchase of all such articles as they had need of, including thoseabove enumerated, and also ammunition, which, as well as money andliquor, their British friends very commendably omitted to furnish them. 

Besides their furs, various in kind and often of great value--beaver, otter, marten, mink, silver-gray and red fox, wolf, bear, and wild-cat, musk-rat, and smoked deer-skins--the Indians brought for trademaple-sugar in abundance, considerable quantities of both Indian cornand _petit-blé_, [1] beans and the _folles avoines_, [2] or wild rice;while the squaws added to their quota of merchandise a contribution inthe form of moccasins, hunting-pouches, mococks, or little boxes ofbirch-bark embroidered with porcupine-quills and filled withmaple-sugar, mats of a neat and durable fabric, and toy-models of Indiancradles, snow-shoes, canoes, etc. , etc. 

It was no unusual thing, at this period, to see a hundred or more canoesof Indians at once approaching the island, laden with their articles oftraffic; and if to these we add the squadrons of large Mackinac boatsconstantly arriving from the outposts, with the furs, peltries, andbuffalo-robes collected by the distant traders, some idea may be formedof the extensive operations and important position of the American FurCompany, as well as of the vast circle of human beings eitherimmediately or remotely connected with it. 

It is no wonder that the philanthropic mind, surveying these, races ofuncultivated heathen, should stretch forward to the time when, throughan unwearied devotion of the white man's energies, and an untiringsacrifice of self and fortune, his red brethren might rise in the scaleof social civilization--when Education and Christianity should go handin hand, to make "the wilderness blossom as the rose. "

Little did the noble souls at that day rejoicing in the success of theirlabors at Mackinac, anticipate that in less than a quarter of a centurythere would remain of all these numerous tribes but a few scatteredbands, squalid, degraded, with scarce a vestige remaining of theirformer lofty character--their lands cajoled or wrested from them, thegraves of their fathers turned up by the ploughshare--themselves chasedfarther and farther towards the setting sun, until they were literallygrudged a resting-place on the face of the earth!

Our visit to the Mission-school was of short duration, for the HenryClay was to leave at two o'clock, and in the mean time we were to seewhat we could of the village and its environs, and after that dine withMr. Mitchell, an old friend of my husband. As we walked leisurely alongover the white, gravelly road, many of the residences of the oldinhabitants were pointed out to me. There was the dwelling of MadameLaframboise, an Ottawa woman, whose husband had taught her to read andwrite, and who had ever after continued to use the knowledge she hadacquired for the instruction and improvement of the youth among her ownpeople. It was her custom to receive a class of young pupils daily ather house, that she might give them lessons in the branches mentioned, and also in the principles of the Roman Catholic religion, to which shewas deeply devoted. She was a woman of a vast deal of energy andenterprise--of a tall and commanding figure, and most dignifieddeportment. After the death of her husband, who was killed while away athis trading-post by a Winnebago named _White Ox_, she was accustomed tovisit herself the trading-posts, superintend the clerks and engagés, andsatisfy herself that the business was carried on in a regular andprofitable manner. 

The Agency-house, with its unusual luxuries of piazza and gardens, wassituated at the foot of the hill on which the fort was built. It was alovely spot, notwithstanding the stunted and dwarfish appearance of allcultivated vegetation in this cold northern latitude. 

The collection of rickety, primitive-looking buildings, occupied by theofficials of the Fur Company, reflected no great credit on thearchitectural skill of my husband, who had superintended theirconstruction, he told me, when little more than a boy. 

There were, besides these, the residences of the Dousmans, the Abbotts, the Biddles, the Drews, and the Lashleys, stretching away along thebase of the beautiful hill, crowned with the white walls and buildingsof the fort, the ascent to which was so steep that on the precipitousface nearest the beach staircases were built by which to mount frombelow. 

My head ached intensely, the effect of the motion of the boat on theprevious day, but I did not like to give up to it; so, after I had beenshown all that could be seen of the little settlement in the short timeallowed us, we repaired to Mr. Mitchell's. 

We were received by Mrs. M. , an extremely pretty, delicate woman, partFrench and part Sioux, whose early life had been passed at Prairie duChien, on the Mississippi. She had been a great belle among the youngofficers at Fort Crawford; so much so, indeed, that the suicide of thepost-surgeon was attributed to an unsuccessful attachment he hadconceived for her. I was greatly struck with her soft and gentlemanners, and the musical intonation of her voice, which I soon learnedwas a distinguishing peculiarity of those women in whom are united theFrench and native blood. 

A lady, then upon a visit to the Mission, was of the company. Sheinsisted on my lying down upon the sofa, and ministered most kindly tomy suffering head. As she sat by my side, and expatiated upon the newsphere opening before me, she inquired:

"Do you not realize very strongly the entire deprivation of religiousprivileges you will be obliged to suffer in your distant home?"

"The deprivation, " said I, "will doubtless be great, but not _entire_;for I shall have my Prayer-Book, and, though destitute of a church, weneed not be without a _mode_ of worship. "

How often afterwards, when cheered by the consolations of that preciousbook in the midst of the lonely wilderness, did I remember thisconversation, and bless God that I could never, while retaining it, bewithout "religious privileges. "

We had not yet left the dinner-table, when the bell of the littlesteamer sounded to summon us on board, and we bade a hurried farewell toall our kind friends, bearing with us their hearty wishes for a safe andprosperous voyage. 

A finer sight can scarcely be imagined than Mackinac, from the water. Aswe steamed away from the shore, the view came full upon us--the slopingbeach with the scattered wigwams, and canoes drawn up here andthere--the irregular, quaint-looking houses--the white walls of thefort, and, beyond, one eminence still more lofty crowned with theremains of old Fort Holmes. The whole picture completed, showed theperfect outline that had given the island its original Indian name, _Mich-i-li-mack-i-nac_, the Big Turtle. 

Then those pure, living waters, in whose depths the fish might be seengliding and darting to and fro; whose clearness is such that an objectdropped to the bottom may be discerned at the depth of fifty or sixtyfeet, a dollar lying far down on its green bed, looking no larger than ahalf dime! I could hardly wonder at the enthusiastic lady who exclaimed:"Oh! I could wish to be drowned in these pure, beautiful waters!"

As we passed the extreme western point of the island, my husband pointedout to me, far away to the northwest, a promontory which he told me wasPoint St. Ignace. It possessed great historic interest, as one of theearliest white settlements on this continent. The Jesuit missionarieshad established here a church and school as early as 1607, the same yearin which a white settlement was made at St. Augustine, in Florida, andone year before the founding of Jamestown, Virginia. 

All that remains of the enterprises of these devoted men, is theremembrance of their labors, perpetuated, in most instances, only by thenames of the spots which witnessed their efforts of love in behalf oftheir savage brethren. The little French church at Sandwich, oppositeDetroit, alone is left, a witness of the zeal and self-sacrifice ofthese pioneers of Christianity. 

Passing "Old Mackinac, " on the main land, which forms the southernborder of the straits, we soon came out into the broad waters of LakeMichigan. Every traveller, and every reader of our history, is familiarwith the incidents connected with the taking of the old fort by theIndians, in the days of Pontiac. How, by means of a game of ball, playedin an apparently friendly spirit outside the walls, and of which theofficers and soldiers had come forth to be spectators, the ball wasdexterously tossed over the wall, and the savages rushing in, underpretext of finding it, soon got possession and massacred the garrison. 

The little Indian village of L'Arbre Croche gleamed far away south, inthe light of the setting sun. With that exception, there was no sign ofliving habitation along that vast and wooded shore. The giganticforest-trees, and here and there the little glades of prairie opening tothe water, showed a landscape that would have gladdened the eye of theagriculturist, with its promise of fertility; but it was evidentlyuntrodden by the foot of man, and we left it, in its solitude, as wetook our course westward across the waters. 

The rainy and gusty weather, so incident to the equinoctial season, overtook us again before we reached the mouth of Green Bay, and kept uscompany until the night of our arrival upon the flats, about three milesbelow the settlement. Here the little steamer grounded "fast and hard. "As almost every one preferred braving the elements to remaining coopedup in the quarters we had occupied for the past week, we decided totrust ourselves to the little boat, spite of wind, and rain, anddarkness, and in due time we reached the shore. 

CHAPTER III. 

GREEN BAY. 

Our arrival at Green Bay was at an unfortunate moment. It was the timeof a treaty between the United States Government and the Menomonees andWaubanakees. Consequently, not only the commissioners of the treaty, with their clerks and officials, but traders, claimants, travellers, andidlers innumerable were upon the ground. Most of these were congregatedin the only hotel the place afforded. This was a tolerably-sized housenear the river-side, and as we entered the long dining-room, cold anddripping from the open boat, we were infinitely amused at the motleyassemblage it contained. Various groups were seated around. New comers, like ourselves, stood here and there, for there were not seats enough toaccommodate all who sought entertainment. The landlord sat calm andindifferent, his hands in his pockets, exhibiting all the phlegm of aPennsylvania Dutchman. 

His fat, notable spouse was trotting round, now stopping to scold aboutsome one who, "burn his skin!" had fallen short in his duty; nowlaughing good-humoredly until her sides shook, at some witticismaddressed to her. 

She welcomed us very cordially, but to our inquiry, "Can youaccommodate us?" her reply was, "Not I. I have got twice as many peoplenow as I know what to do with. I have had to turn my own family out oftheir quarters, what with the commissioners and the lot of folks thathas come in upon us. "

"What are we to do, then? It is too late and stormy to go up toShanty-town to seek for lodgings. "

"Well, sit you down and take your supper, and we will see what we cando. "

And she actually did contrive to find a little nook, in which we wereglad to take refuge from the multitudes around us. 

A slight board partition separated us from the apartment occupied byGeneral Root, of New York, one of the commissioners of the treaty. Thesteamer in which we came had brought the mail, at that day a rareblessing to the distant settlements. The opening and reading of all thedispatches, which the General received about bed-time, had, of course, to be gone through with, before he could retire to rest. His eyes beingweak, his secretaries were employed to read the communications. He was alittle deaf withal, and through the slight division between the twoapartments the contents of the letters, and his comments upon them, wereunpleasantly audible, as he continually admonished his secretary toraise his voice. 

"What is that, Walter? Read that over again. "

In vain we coughed and hemmed, and knocked over sundry pieces offurniture. They were too deeply interested to hear aught that passedaround them, and if we had been politicians we should have had all thesecrets of the _working-men's party_ at our disposal, out of which tohave made capital. 

The next morning it was still rain! rain! nothing but rain! In spite ofit, however, the gentlemen would take a small boat to row to thesteamer, to bring up the luggage, not the least important part of thatwhich appertained to us being sundry boxes of silver for paying theannuities to the Winnebagoes at the Portage. 

I went out with some others of the company upon the piazza, to witnesstheir departure. A gentleman pointed out to me Fort Howard, on aprojecting point of the opposite shore, about three-quarters of a miledistant--the old barracks, the picketed inclosure, the walls, alllooking quaint, and, considering their modern erection, really ancientand venerable. Presently we turned our attention to the boat, which hadby this time gained the middle of the river. One of the passengers wasstanding up in the stern, apparently giving some directions. 

"That is rather a venturesome fellow, " remarked one; "if he is notcareful he will lose his balance. " And at this moment we saw himactually perform a summerset backward, and disappear in the water. 

"Oh!" cried I, "he will be drowned!"

The gentlemen laughed. "No, there he is; they are helping him in again. "

The course of the boat was immediately changed, and the party returnedto the shore. It was not until one disembarked and came dripping andlaughing towards me, that I recognized him as my own peculiar property. He was pleased to treat the matter as a joke, but I thought it rather asad beginning of Western experience. 

He suffered himself to be persuaded to intrust the care of his effectsto his friends, and having changed his dress, prepared to remain quietlywith me, when just at this moment a vehicle drove up to the door, and werecognized the pleasant, familiar face of our old friend, Judge Doty. 

He had received the news of our arrival, and had come to take us atonce to his hospitable mansion. We were only too happy to gathertogether our bags and travelling-baskets and accompany him withoutfarther ceremony. 

Our drive took us first along the edge of Navarino, next throughShanty-town (the latter a far more appropriate name than the former), amid mud and mire, over bad roads, and up and down hilly, break-neckplaces, until we reached the little brick dwelling of our friends. Mrs. Doty received us with such true, sisterly kindness, and everythingseemed so full of welcome, that we soon felt ourselves at home. 

We found that, expecting our arrival, invitations had already beenprepared to assemble the whole circle of Green Bay society to meet us atan evening party--this, in a new country, being the established mode ofdoing honor to guests or strangers. 

We learned, upon inquiry, that Captain Harney, who had kindly offered tocome with a boat and crew of soldiers from Fort Winnebago, to convey usto that place, our destined home, had not yet arrived; we therefore feltat liberty to make arrangements for a few days of social enjoyment at"the Bay. "

It was pleasant to people, secluded in such a degree from the world atlarge, to bear all the news we had brought--all the particulars of lifeand manners--the thousand little items that the newspapers of that daydid not dream of furnishing--the fashions, and that general gossip, inshort, which a lady is erroneously supposed more _au fait_ of, than agentleman. 

I well remember that, in giving and receiving information, the daypassed in a pretty uninterrupted stream of communication. All the partyexcept myself had made the journey, or rather voyage, up the Fox Riverand down the Wisconsin to the Mississippi. 

There were plenty of anecdotes of a certain trip performed by thethree, in company with a French trader and his two sisters, then makingtheir debut as Western travellers. The manner in which MademoiselleJulie would borrow, without leave, a fine damask napkin or two, to wipeout the ducks in preparation for cooking--the difficulty of persuadingeither of the sisters of the propriety of washing and rinsing theirtable apparatus nicely before packing it away in the mess-basket, theconsequence of which was, that another nice napkin must be stealthilywhisked out, to wipe the dishes when the hour for meals arrived--the funof the young gentleman in hunting up his stray articles, thusmisappropriated, from the nooks and corners of the boat, tying them witha cord, and hanging them over the stern, to make their way down theWisconsin to Prairie du Chien. 

Then there was a capital story of M. Rolette himself. At one point onthe route (I think in crossing Winnebago Lake) the travellers met one ofthe Company's boats on its way to Green Bay for supplies. M. Rolette wasone of the agents of the Company, and the people in the boat were hisemployés. Of course after an absence of some weeks from home, themeeting on these lonely waters and the exchanging of news was anoccasion of great excitement. 

The boats were stopped--earnest greetings interchanged--questionfollowed question. 

"_Eh bien_--have they finished the new house?"

"_Oui, Monsieur_. "

"_Et la cheminée, fume-t-elle?_" (Does the chimney smoke?)

"_Non, Monsieur_. "

"And the harvest--how is that?"

"Very fine, indeed. "

"Is the mill at work?"

"Yes, plenty of water. "

"How is Whip?" (his favorite horse. )

"Oh! Whip is first-rate. "

Everything, in short, about the store, the farm, the business of variousdescriptions being satisfactorily gone over, there was no occasion forfarther delay. It was time to proceed. 

"_Eh bien--adieu! bon voyage!_"

"_Arrachez, mes gens!_" (Go ahead, men!)

Then suddenly--"_Arrêtez! arrêtez!_" (Stop, stop!)

"_Comment se portent Madame Rolette et les enfans?_" (How are Mrs. Rolette and the children?)

 * * * * *

This day, with its excitement, was at length over, and we retired to ourrest, thankful that we had not General Root and his secretary close toour bed's head, with their budget of political news. 

My slumbers were not destined, however, to be quite undisturbed. I wasawakened, at the first slight peep of dawn, by a sound from an apartmentbeneath our own--a plaintive, monotonous chant, rising and then fallingin a sort of mournful cadence. It seemed to me a wail of somethingunearthly--so wild--so strange--so unaccountable. In terror I awoke myhusband, who reassured me by telling me it was the morning salutation ofthe Indians to the opening day. 

Some Menomonees had been kindly given shelter for the night in thekitchen below, and, having fulfilled their unvarying custom of chantingtheir morning hymn, they now ceased, and again composed themselves tosleep. But not so their auditor. There was to me something inexpressiblybeautiful in this morning song of praise from the untaught sons of theforest. What a lesson did it preach to the civilized, Christianizedworld, too many of whom lie down and rise up without an aspiration ofthanksgiving to their Almighty Preserver--without even a remembrance ofHis care, who gives His angels charge concerning them! Never has theimpression of that simple act of worship faded from my mind. I haveloved to think that, with some, these strains might be the outpouring ofa devotion as pure as that of the Christian when he utters the inspiringwords of the sainted Ken--

"Awake, my soul! and with the sun, " etc. 

 * * * * *

Among the visitors who called to offer me a welcome to the West, wereMr. And Miss Cadle, who were earnestly engaged in the first steps oftheir afterwards flourishing enterprise for the education of Indian andhalf-breed children. The school-houses and chapel were not yet erected, but we visited their proposed site, and listened with great interest tobright anticipations of the future good that was to be accomplished--thesuccess that was to crown their efforts for taming the heathen andteaching them the knowledge of their Saviour and the blessings ofcivilized life. The sequel has shown how little the zeal of the few canaccomplish, when opposed to the cupidity of the many. 

Our evening party went off as parties do elsewhere. The most interestingfeature to me, because the most novel, was the conversation of someyoung ladies to whom I was introduced, natives of Green Bay or itsvicinity. Their mother was a Menomonee, but their father was aFrenchman, a descendant of a settler some generations back, and who, there is reason to believe, was a branch of the same family of Grignonto which the daughter of Madame de Sévigné belonged. At least, it issaid there are in the possession of the family many old papers andrecords which would give that impression, although the orthography ofthe name has become slightly changed. Be that as it may, the MissGrignons were strikingly dignified, well-bred young ladies, and therewas a charm about their soft voices, and original, unsophisticatedremarks, very attractive to a stranger. 

They opened to me, however, a new field of apprehension; for, on myexpressing my great impatience to see my new home, they exclaimed, witha look of wonder, --

"_Vous n'avez donc pas peur des serpens_?"

"Snakes! was it possible there were snakes at Fort Winnebago?"

"At the Portage! oh! yes--one can never walk out forthem--rattle-snakes--copper-heads--all sorts!"

I am not naturally timid, but I must confess that the idea of the_serpens sonnettes_ and the _siffleurs_ was not quite a subject ofindifference. 

There was one among these young ladies whose tall, graceful figure, rich, blooming complexion, and dark, glancing eye, would havedistinguished her in any drawing-room--and another, whose gentlesweetness and cultivated taste made it a matter of universal regret thatshe was afterwards led to adopt the seclusion of a convent. 

Captain Harney and his boat arrived in due time, and active preparationsfar the comfort of our journey commenced under the kind supervision ofMrs. Doty. The mess-basket was stowed with good things of everydescription--ham and tongue--biscuit and plum-cake--not to mention thesubstantiate of crackers, bread, and boiled pork, the latter of which, however, a lady was supposed to be too fastidious to think of touching, even if starving in the woods. 

We had engaged three Canadian voyageurs to take charge of our tent, mess-basket, and matters and things in general. Their business it was tobe to cut the wood for our fires, prepare our meals, and give a helpinghand to whatever was going forward. A messenger had also been sent tothe Kakalin, or rapids, twenty-one miles above, to notify_Wish-tay-yun_, [3] the most accomplished guide through the difficultpasses of the river, to be in readiness for our service on a specifiedday. 

In the mean time, we had leisure for one more party, and it was to be a"real Western hop. " Everybody will remember that dance at Mrs. Baird's. All the people, young and old, that would be gathered throughout, or, asit was the fashion to express it, _on_ Green Bay, were assembled. Theyoung officers were up from Fort Howard, looking so smart in theiruniforms--treasures of finery, long uncalled forth, were now brought tolight--everybody was bound to do honor to the strangers by appearing intheir very best. It was to be an entertainment unequalled by any givenbefore. All the house was put in requisition for the occasion. Desks andseats were unceremoniously dismissed from Mr. B. 's office, which formedone wing, to afford more space for the dancers. Not only the frontportion of the dwelling, but even the kitchen was made fit for thereception of company, in case any primitive visitor, as was sometimesthe case, should prefer sitting down quietly there and smoking hiscigar. This was an emergency that, in those days, had always to beprovided for. 

Nothing could exceed the mirth and hilarity of the company. Norestraint, but of good manners--no excess of conventionalities--genuine, hearty good-humor and enjoyment, such as pleasant, hospitable people, with just enough of the French element to add zest to anything likeamusement, could furnish, to make the entertainment agreeable. In acountry so new, and where, in a social gathering, the number of thecompany was more important than the quality, the circle was not always, strictly speaking, select. 

I was aware of this, and was therefore more amused than surprised when aclumsy little man, with a broad, red, laughing face, waddled across theroom to where I had taken my seat after a dance, and thus addressed me:

"_Miss_ K----, nobody hain't never introduced you to me, but I've seenyou a good many times, and I know your husband very well, so I thought Imight just as well come and speak to you--my name is A----. "

"Ah! Mr. A----, good-evening. I hope you are enjoying yourself. How isyour sister?"

"Oh! she is a great deal worse--her cold has got into her eye, and it isall _shot up_. "

Then turning full upon a lady[4] who sat near, radiant with youth andbeauty, sparkling with wit and genuine humor:

"Oh! Mrs. Beall, " he began, "what a beautiful gown you have got on, andhow handsome you do look! I declare you're the prettiest woman in theroom, and dance the handsomest. "

"Indeed, Mr. A----, " replied she, suppressing her love of fun andassuming a demure look, "I am afraid you flatter me. "

"No, I don't--I'm in earnest. I've just come to ask you to dance. "

Such was the penalty of being too charming. 

CHAPTER IV. 

VOYAGE UP FOX RIVER. 

It had been arranged that Judge Doty should accompany us in our boat asfar as the Butte des Morts, at which place his attendant would bewaiting with horses to convey him to Mineral Point, where he was to holdcourt. 

It was a bright and beautiful morning when we left his pleasant home, tocommence our passage up the Fox River Captain Harney was proposing toremain a few days longer at "the Bay, " but he called to escort us to theboat and instal us in all its comforts. 

As he helped me along over the ploughed ground and other inequalities inour way to the river-bank, where the boat lay, he told me howimpatiently Mrs. Twiggs, the wife of the commanding officer, who sincethe past spring had been the only white lady at Fort Winnebago, was nowexpecting a companion and friend. We had met in New York, shortly afterher marriage, and were, therefore, not quite unacquainted. I, for mypart, felt sure that when there were two of our sex--when my piano wassafely there--when the Post Library which we had purchased should beunpacked--when all should be fairly arranged and settled, we should be, although far away in the wilderness, the happiest little circleimaginable. All my anticipations were of the most sanguine and cheerfulcharacter. 

It was a moderate-sized Mackinac boat, with a crew of soldiers, and ourown three voyageurs in addition, that lay waiting for us--a dark-lookingstructure of some thirty feet in length. Placed in the centre was aframe-work of slight posts, supporting a roof of canvas, with curtainsof the same, which might be let down at the sides and ends, after themanner of a country stage-coach, or rolled up to admit the light andair. 

In the midst of this little cabin or saloon was placed the boxcontaining my piano, and on it a mattress, which was to furnish us adivan through the day and a place of repose at night, should the weatherat any time prove too wet or unpleasant for encamping. The boxes ofsilver, with which my husband was to pay the annuities due his redchildren, by treaty-stipulation, were stowed next. Our mess-basket wasin a convenient vicinity, and we had purchased a couple of large squarecovered baskets of the Waubanakees, or New York Indians, to hold ourvarious necessary articles of outward apparel and bedding, and at thesame time to answer as very convenient little work or dinner-tables. 

As a true daughter of New England, it is to be taken for granted I hadnot forgotten to supply myself with knitting-work and embroidery. Booksand pencils were a matter of course. 

The greater part of our furniture, together with the various articlesfor housekeeping with which we had supplied ourselves in New York andDetroit, were to follow in another boat, under the charge of peoplewhose business it professed to be to take cargoes safely up the rapidsand on to Fort Winnebago. This was an enterprise requiring some threeweeks of time and a great amount of labor, so that the owners of thegoods transported might think themselves happy to receive them at last, however wet, broken, and dilapidated their condition might be. It wasfor this reason that we took our choicest possessions with us, even atthe risk of being a little crowded. 

Until now I had never seen a gentleman attired in a colored shirt, aspotless white collar and bosom being one of those "notions" that"Boston, " and consequently New England "folks, " entertained of thebecoming in a gentleman's toilette. Mrs. Cass had laughingly forewarnedme that not only calico shirts but patch-work pillow-cases were anindispensable part of a travelling equipment; and, thanks to the tasteand skill of some tidy little Frenchwoman, I found our divan-pillows allaccommodated in the brightest and most variegated garb. 

The Judge and my husband were gay with the deepest of blue and pink. Each was prepared, besides, with a bright red cap (a _bonnet rouge_, or_tuque_, as the voyageurs call it), which, out of respect for the lady, was to be donned only when a hearty dinner, a dull book, or the want ofexercise made an afternoon nap indispensable. 

The Judge was an admirable travelling companion. He had lived many yearsin the country, had been with General Cass on his expedition to thehead-waters of the Mississippi, and had a vast fund of anecdoteregarding early times, customs, and inhabitants. 

Some instances of the mode of administering justice in those days, Ihappen to recall. 

There was an old Frenchman at the Bay, named Réaume, excessivelyignorant and grasping, although otherwise tolerably good-natured. Thisman was appointed justice of the peace. Two men once appeared beforehim, the one as plaintiff, the other as defendant. The justice listenedpatiently to the complaint of the one and the defence of the other;then rising, with dignity, he pronounced his decision:

"You are both wrong. You, Bois-vert, " to the plaintiff, "you bring meone load of hay; and you, Crély, " to the defendant, "you bring me oneload of wood; and now the matter is settled. " It does not appear thatany exceptions were taken to this verdict. 

This anecdote led to another, the scene of which was Prairie du Chien, on the Mississippi. 

There was a Frenchman, a justice of the peace, who was universally knownby the name of "Old Boilvin. " His office was just without the walls ofthe fort, and it was much the fashion among the officers to lounge inthere of a morning, to find sport for an idle hour, and to take a glassof brandy-and-water with the old gentleman, which he called "taking alittle _quelque-chose. "_

A soldier, named Fry, had been accused of stealing and killing a calfbelonging to M. Rolette, and the constable, a bricklayer of the name ofBell, had been dispatched to arrest the culprit and bring him to trial. 

While the gentlemen were making their customary morning visit to thejustice, a noise was heard in the entry, and a knock at the door. 

"Come in, " cried Old Boilvin, rising and walking toward the door. 

_Bell_, --Here, sir, I have brought Fry to you, as you ordered. 

_Justice_--Fry, you great rascal! What for you kill M. Rolette's calf?

_Fry_, --I did not kill M. Rolette's calf. 

_Justice_ (shaking his fist). --You lie, you great ---- rascal! Bell, take him to jail. Come, gentlemen, come, _let us take a leetlequelque-chose_. 

 * * * * *

The Canadian boatmen always sing while rowing or paddling, and nothingencourages them so much as to hear the "bourgeois"[5] take the lead inthe music. If the passengers, more especially those of the fair sex, join in the refrain, the compliment is all the greater. 

Their songs are of a light, cheerful character, generally embodying somelittle satire or witticism, calculated to produce a spirited, sometimesan uproarious, chorus. 

The song and refrain are carried on somewhat in the following style:

 BOURGEOIS. --Par-derrière chez ma tante, Par-derrière chez ma tante. 

 CHORUS. --Par-derrière chez ma tante, Par-derrière chez ma tante. 

 BOURGEOIS. --Il y a un coq qui chante, Des pommes, des poires, des raves, des choux, Des figues nouvelles, des raisins doux. 

 CHORUS. --Des pommes, des poires, des raves, des choux, Des figues nouvelles, des raisins doux. 

 BOURGEOIS. --Il y a un coq qui chante, Il y a un coq qui chante. 

 CHORUS. --Il y a un coq qui chante, etc. 

 BOURGEOIS. --Demande une femme à prendre, Des pommes, des poires, des raves, des choux, etc. 

 CHORUS. --Des pommes, dos poires, etc. 

 BOURGEOIS. --Demande une femme à prendre, Demande une femme à, etc. 

And thus it continues until the advice is given successively, Ne prenez pas une noire, Car elles aiment trop à boire, Ne prenez pas une rousse, Car elles sont trop jalouses. 

And by the time all the different qualifications are rehearsed andobjected to, lengthened out by the interminable repetition of thechorus, the shout of the bourgeois is heard--

"Whoop la! à terre, à terre--pour la pipe!"

It is an invariable custom for the voyageurs to stop every five or sixmiles to rest and smoke, so that it was formerly the way of measuringdistances--"so many pipes, " instead of "so many miles. "

The Canadian melodies are sometimes very beautiful, and a moreexhilarating mode of travel can hardly be imagined than a voyage overthese waters, amid all the wild magnificence of nature, with themeasured strokes of the oar keeping time to the strains of "_Le RosierBlanc_, " "En roulant ma Boule_, " or "_Lève ton pied, ma jolie Bergère. "_

The climax of fun seemed to be in a comic piece, which, however oftrepeated, appeared never to grow stale. It was somewhat after thisfashion:

 BOURGEOIS. --Michaud est monté dans un prunier, Pour treiller des prunes. La branche a cassé--

 CHORUS. --Michaud a tombé?

 BOURGEOIS. --Ou est-ce qu'il est?

 CHORUS. --Il est en bas. 

 BOURGEOIS. --Oh! reveille, reveille, reveille, Oh! reveille, Michaud est en haut![6]

It was always a point of etiquette to look astonished at the luck ofMichaud in remaining in the tree, spite of the breaking of the branch, and the joke had to be repeated through all the varieties offruit-trees that Michaud might be supposed able to climb. 

By evening of the first day we arrived at _the Kakalin_, where anotherbranch of the Grignon family resided. We were very pleasantlyentertained, although, in my anxiety to begin my forest life, I wouldfain have had the tent pitched on the bank of the river, and have laidaside, at once, the indulgences of civilization. This, however, wouldhave been a slight, perhaps an affront; so we did much better, andpartook of the good cheer that was offered us in the shape of hotvenison steaks and crêpes, and that excellent cup of coffee which nonecan prepare like a Frenchwoman, and which is so refreshing after a dayin the open air. 

The Kakalin is a rapid of the Fox River, sufficiently important to makethe portage of the heavy lading of a boat necessary; the boat itselfbeing poled or dragged up with cords against the current. It is one of aseries of rapids and _chûtes_, or falls, which occur between this pointand Lake Winnebago, twenty miles above. 

The next morning, after breakfast, we took leave of our hosts, andprepared to pursue our journey. The bourgeois, from an early hour, hadbeen occupied in superintending his men in getting the boat and itsloading over the Kakalin. As the late rains had made the paths throughthe woods and along the banks of the river somewhat muddy anduncomfortable for walking, I was put into an ox-cart, to be jolted overthe unequal road; saluting impartially all the stumps and stones thatlay in our way, the only means of avoiding which seemed to be when thelittle, thick-headed Frenchman, our conductor, bethought him of suddenlyguiding his cattle into a projecting tree or thorn-bush, to the greatdetriment not only of my straw bonnet, but of my very eyes. 

But we got through at last, and, arriving at the head of the rapids, Ifound the boat lying there, all in readiness for our re-embarking. 

Our Menomonee guide, _Wish-tay-yun_, a fine, stalwart Indian, with anopen, good-humored, one might almost say _roguish_ countenance, cameforward to be presented to me. 

"_Bon-jour, bon-jour, maman_, " was his laughing salutation. Again I wassurprised, not as before at the French, for to that I had becomeaccustomed, but at the respectable title he was pleased to bestow uponme. 

"Yes, " said my husband, "you must make up your mind to receive a verynumerous and well-grown family, consisting of all the Winnebagoes, Pottowattamies, Chippewas, and Ottawas, together with such Sioux, Sacsand Foxes, and Iowas, as have any point to gain in applying to me. Bythe first-named tribe in virtue of my office, and by the others as amatter of courtesy, I am always addressed as '_father_'--you, of course, will be their '_mother_. '"

Wish-tay-yun and I were soon good friends, my husband interpreting to methe Chippewa language in which he spoke. We were impatient to be off, the morning being already far advanced, and, all things being inreadiness, the word was given:

"_Pousse au large, mes gens!_" (Push out, my men). 

At this moment a boat was seen leaving the opposite bank of the riverand making towards us. It contained white men, and they showed by signsthat they wished to detain us until they came up. They drew near, and wefound them to be Mr. Marsh, a missionary among the Waubanakees, or theNew York Indians, lately brought into this country, and the Rev. EleazarWilliams, [7] who was at that time living among his red brethren on theright bank of the Fox River. 

To persons so situated, even more emphatically than to those of thesettlements, the arrival of visitors from the "east countrie" was agodsend indeed. We had to give all the news of various kinds that we hadbrought--political, ecclesiastical, and social--as well as a tolerablydetailed account of what we proposed to do, or rather what we hoped tobe able to do, among our native children at the Portage. 

I was obliged, for my part, to confess that, being almost entirely astranger to the Indian character and habits, I was going among them withno settled plans of any kind--general good-will, and a hope of makingthem my friends, being the only principles I could lay claim to atpresent. I must leave it for time and a better acquaintance to show mein what way the principle could be carried out for their greatest good. 

Mr. Williams was a dark-complexioned, good-looking man. Having alwaysheard him spoken of, by his relations in Connecticut, as "our Indiancousin, " it never occurred to me to doubt his belonging to that race, although I now think that if I had met him elsewhere I should have takenhim for a Spaniard or a Mexican. His complexion had decidedly more ofthe olive than the copper hue, and his countenance was grave, almostmelancholy. He was very silent during this interview, asking fewquestions, and offering no observations except in reply to some questionaddressed to him. 

It was a hard pull for the men up the rapids. Wish-tay-yun, whose clear, sonorous voice was the bugle of the party, shouted and whooped--each oneanswered with a chorus, and a still more vigorous effort. By-and-by theboat would become firmly set between two huge stones--

"Whoop la! whoop! whoop!"

Another pull, and another, straining every nerve--in vain. 

"She will not budge!"

"Men, overboard!" and instantly every rower is over the side and intothe water. 

By pulling, pushing, and tugging, the boat is at length released fromher position, and the men walk along beside her, helping and guidingher, until they reach a space of comparatively smooth water, when theyagain take their seats and their oars. 

It will be readily imagined that there were few songs this day, but veryfrequent _pipes_, to refresh the poor fellows after such an arduousservice. 

It was altogether a new spectacle to me. In fact, I had hardly everbefore been called upon to witness severe bodily exertion, and mysympathies and sensibilities were, for this reason, the more enlisted onthe occasion. It seemed a sufficient hardship to have to labor in thisviolent manner; but to walk in cold water up to their waists, and thento sit down in their soaking garments without going near a fire! Poormen! this was too much to be borne! What, then, was my consternation tosee my husband, who, shortly after our noon-tide meal, had surprised meby making his appearance in a pair of duck trowsers and light jacket, atthe first cry of "Fast, again!" spring over into the water with the men, and "bear a hand" throughout the remainder of the long stretch!

When he returned on board, it was to take the oar of a poor, delicate-looking boy, one of the company of soldiers, who from the firsthad suffered with bleeding at the nose on every unusual exertion. I wasnot surprised, on inquiring, to find that this lad was a recruit justentered the service. He passed by the name of Gridley, but that wasundoubtedly an assumed name. He had the appearance of having beendelicately nurtured, and had probably enlisted without at allappreciating the hardships and discomforts of a soldier's life. This isevident from the dissatisfaction he always continued to feel, until atlength he deserted from his post. This was some months subsequent to thetime of which I am writing. He was once retaken, and kept for a time inconfinement, but immediately on his release deserted again, and hisremains were found the following spring, not many miles from the fort. He had died, either of cold or starvation. This is a sad interlude--wewill return to our boating. 

With all our tugging and toiling, we had accomplished but thirteen milessince leaving the Kakalin, and it was already late when we arrived inview of the "Grande Chûte, " near which we were to encamp. 

We had passed the "Little Chûte" (the spot where the town of Appletonnow stands) without any further observation than that it required a vastdeal of extra exertion to buffet with the rushing stream and come off, as we did, victorious. 

The brilliant light of the setting sun was resting on the high woodedbanks through which broke the beautiful, foaming, dashing waters of theChûte. The boat was speedily turned towards a little headland projectingfrom the left bank, which had the advantage of a long strip of levelground, sufficiently spacious to afford a good encamping ground. Ijumped ashore before the boat was fairly pulled up by the men, and withthe Judge's help made my way as rapidly as possible to a point lowerdown the river, from which, he said, the best view of the Chûte could beobtained. I was anxious to make a sketch before the daylight quite fadedaway. 

The left bank of the river was to the west, and over a portion lesselevated than the rest the sun's parting rays fell upon the boat, themen with their red caps and belts, and the two tents already pitched. The smoke now beginning to ascend from the evening fires, the highwooded bank beyond, up which the steep portage path could just bediscerned, and, more remote still, the long stretch of waterfall nowdarkening in the shadow of the overhanging forests, formed a lovelylandscape, to which the pencil of an artist could alone do justice. 

This was my first encampment, and I was quite enchanted with the noveltyof everything about me. 

The fires had been made of small saplings and underbrush, hastilycollected, the mildness of the weather rendering anything beyond whatsufficed for the purposes of cooking and drying the men's clothes, superfluous. The soldiers' tent was pitched at some distance from ourown, but not too far for us to hear distinctly their laughter andapparent enjoyment after the fatigues of the day. 

Under the careful superintendence of Corporal Kilgour, however, theirhilarity never passed the bounds of respectful propriety, and, by thetime we had eaten our suppers, cooked in the open air with the simpleapparatus of a tea-kettle and frying-pan, we were, one and all, ready toretire to our rest. 

The first sound that saluted our ears in the early dawn of the followingmorning, was the far-reaching call of the bourgeois:

"How! how! how!" uttered at the very top of his voice. 

All start at that summons, and the men are soon turning out of theirtents, or rousing from their slumbers beside the fire, and preparing forthe duties of the day. 

The fire is replenished, the kettles set on to boil, the mess-basketsopened, and a portion of their contents brought forth to be made readyfor breakfast. One Frenchman spreads our mat within the tent, whence thebedding has all been carefully removed and packed up for stowing in theboat. The tin cups and plates are placed around on the new-fashionedtable-cloth. The heavy dews make it a little too damp for us tobreakfast in the open air; otherwise our preparations would be madeoutside, upon the green grass. In an incredibly short time our smokingcoffee and broiled ham are placed before us, to which are added, fromtime to time, slices of toast brought hot and fresh from the glowingcoals. 

There is, after all, no breakfast like a breakfast in the woods, with awell-trained Frenchman for master of ceremonies. 

It was a hard day's work to which the men now applied themselves, thatof dragging the heavy boat up the Chûte. It had been thought safest toleave the piano in its place on board, but the rest of the lading had tobe carried up the steep bank, and along its summit, a distance of somehundreds of rods, to the smooth water beyond, where all the difficultiesof our navigation terminated. 

The Judge kindly took charge of me while "the bourgeois" superintendedthis important business, and with reading, sketching, and strollingabout, the morning glided away. Twelve o'clock came, and still thepreparations for starting were not yet completed. 

In my rambles about to seek out some of the finest of the wild flowersfor a bouquet, before my husband's return, I came upon the camp-fire ofthe soldiers. A tall, red-faced, light-haired young man in fatigue dresswas attending a kettle of soup, the savory steams of which were veryattractive. 

Seeing that I was observing his occupation, he politely ladled out atin-cupful of the liquid and offered it to me. 

I declined it, saying we should have our dinner immediately. 

"They left me here to get their dinner, " said he, apparently notdispleased to have some one to talk to; "and I thought I might as wellmake some soup. Down on the German Flats, where I come from, they alwayslike soup. "

"Ah! you are from the German Flats--then your name must be Bellinger orWeber. "

"No, it isn't--it's Krissman. "

"Well, Krissman, how do you like the service?"

"Very well. I was only recruited last summer. I used to ride horse onthe _Canawl_, and, as I can blow a horn first-rate, I expect I will soonbe able to play on a bugle, and then, when I get to be musician, youknow, I shall have extra pay. "

I did not know it, but I expressed due pleasure at the information, andwishing Krissman all manner of success in his dreams of ambition, orrather, I should say, of avarice, for the hopes of "extra pay" evidentlypreponderated over those of fame, I returned to my own quarters. 

My husband, with his French tastes, was inclined to be somewhatdisappointed when I told him of this little incident, and my refusal ofKrissman's soup; but we were soon gratified by seeing his tall, awkwardform bearing a kettle of the composition, which he set down before thetwo gentlemen, by whom, to his infinite satisfaction, it was pronouncedexcellent. 

Everything being at length in readiness, the tents were struck andcarried around the Portage, and my husband, the Judge, and I followed atour leisure. 

The woods were brilliant with wild flowers, although it was so late inthe season that the glory of the summer was well-nigh past. But thelupin, the moss-pink, and the yellow wallflower, with all the varietiesof the helianthus, the aster, and the solidago, spread their gay charmsaround. The gentlemen gathered clusters of the bittersweet (celastrusscandens) from the overhanging boughs to make a wreath for my hat, as wetrod the tangled pathway, which, like that of Christabel, was

"Now in glimmer and now in gloom, "

through the alternations of open glade and shady thicket. Soon, like thesame lovely heroine, "We reached the place--right glad we were, "

and, without further delay, we were again on board our little boat andskimming over the now placid waters. 

CHAPTER V. 

WINNEBAGO LAKE--MISS FOUR-LEGS. 

Our encampment this night was the most charming that can be imagined. Owing to the heavy service the men had gone through in the earlier partof the day, we took but a short stage for the afternoon, and, havingpulled some seven or eight miles to a spot a short distance below the"little Butte, " we drew in at a beautiful opening among the trees. 

The soldiers now made a regular business of encamping, by cutting down alarge tree for their fire and applying themselves to the preparing of asufficient quantity of food for their next day's journey, a longstretch, namely, of twenty-one miles across Winnebago Lake. OurFrenchmen did the same. The fire caught in the light dry grass by whichwe were surrounded, and soon all was blaze and crackle. 

Fortunately the wind was sufficient to take the flames all in onedirection, and, besides, there was not enough fuel to have made them asubject of any alarm. We hopped upon the fallen logs, and dignified thelittle circumscribed affair with the name of "a prairie on fire. " Themost serious inconvenience was its having consumed all the dry grass, some armfuls of which, spread under the bear-skin in my tent, I hadfound, the night before, a great improvement to my place of repose. 

Our supper was truly delightful, at the pleasant sunset hour, under thetall trees beside the waters that ran murmuring by; and when the bright, broad moon arose, and shed her flood of light over the scene, so wildyet so beautiful in its vast solitude, I felt that I might well be anobject of envy to the friends I had left behind. 

But all things have an end, and so must at last my enthusiasm for thebeauties around me, and, albeit unwillingly, I closed my tent and tookmy place within, so near the fall of canvas that I could raise itoccasionally and peep forth upon the night. 

In time all was quiet. The men had become silent, and appeared to haveretired to rest, and we were just sinking to our slumbers, when a heavytread and presently a bluff voice were heard outside. 

"Mr. Kinzie! Mr. Kinzie!"

"Who is there? What is it?"

"I'm Krissman; didn't you mean, sir, that the men should have any liquorto-night?"

"Of course I did. Has not Kilgour given out your rations?"

"No: he says you did not say anything particular about it, and he wasnot coming to ask you if you forgot it; but I thought I wouldn't bebashful--I'd just come and ask. '"

"That is right. Tell Kilgour I should like to have him serve out aration apiece. "

"Thank you, sir, " in a most cheerful tone; "I'll tell him. "

Krissman was getting to be quite a character with us. 

A row of a few miles, on the following morning, brought us to Four-Legs'village, [8] at the entrance to Winnebago Lake, a picturesque cluster ofIndian huts, spread around on a pretty green glade, and shaded by finelofty trees. 

We were now fairly in the Winnebago country, and I soon learned that theodd-sounding name of the place was derived from the principal chief ofthe nation, whose residence it was. The inhabitants were absent, having, in all probability, departed to their wintering grounds. We here tookleave of our friend Wish-tay-yun, at the borders of whose country we hadnow arrived. 

"_Bon-jour, Chon!_" (John:) "_bon-jour, maman_. " A hearty shake of thehand completed his adieu, as we pushed off into the lake, and left himsmoking his kin-nee-kin-nick[9] and waiting until the spirit should movehim to take up his long _Indian trot_ towards his home in the Menomoneecountry. 

With him our sunshine seemed to have departed. The skies, hitherto sobright and serene, became overcast, and, instead of the charming voyagewe had anticipated over the silver waters of the lake, we were obligedto keep ourselves housed under our canvas shelter, only peeping out nowand then to catch a glimpse of the surrounding prospect through thepouring rain. 

It was what might have been expected on an autumnal day, but we wereunreasonable enough to find it tedious; so, to beguile the time andlessen my disappointment, my husband related to me some incidents of hisearly history, apropos to the subject of "Four-Legs. "

While he was living at Prairie du Chien, in the employ of the AmericanFur Company, the chiefs and other Indians from the Upper Mississippiused frequently to come to the place to sell their furs and peltries, and to purchase merchandise, ammunition, trinkets, etc. 

As is usual with all who are not yet acclimated, he was seized withchills and fever. One day, while suffering with an unusually severeaccess of the latter, a chief of the Four-Legs family, a brother to theone before mentioned, came in to the Company's warehouse to trade. Thereis no ceremony or restraint among the Indians: so, hearing thatShaw-nee-aw-kee was sick, Four-Legs instantly made his way to him, tooffer his sympathy and prescribe the proper remedies. 

Every one who has suffered from ague and the intense fever that succeedsit, knows how insupportable is the protracted conversation of aninconsiderate person, and will readily believe that the longer Four-Legscontinued his pratings the higher mounted the fever of the patient, andthe more intolerable became the pain of head, back, and limbs. 

At length the old man arrived at the climax of what he had to say. "Itwas not good for a young man, suffering with sickness, and away from hisfamily, to be without a home and a wife. He had a nice daughter at home, handsome and healthy, a capital nurse, the best hand in all the tribe attrapping beaver and musk-rats. He was coming down again in the spring, and he would bring her with him, and Shaw-nee-aw-kee should see that hehad told no falsehood about her. Should he go now, and bring hisdaughter the next time he came?"

Stunned with his importunate babble, and anxious only for rest andquiet, poor Shaw-nee-aw-kee eagerly assented, and the chief took hisdeparture. 

So nearly had his disorder been aggravated to delirium, that the youngman forgot entirely, for a time, the interview and the proposal whichhad been made him. But it was recalled to his memory some months after, when Four-Legs made his appearance, bringing with him a squaw of matureage, and a very Hecate for ugliness. She carried on her shoulders animmense pack of furs, which, approaching with her awkward _criss-cross_gait, she threw at his feet, thus marking, by an Indian custom, hersense of the relation that existed between them. 

The conversation with her father now flashed across his mind, and hebegan to be sensible that he had got into a position that it wouldrequire some skill to extricate himself from. 

He bade one of the young clerks take up the pack and carry it into themagazine where the furs were stored; then he coolly went on talking withthe chief about indifferent matters. 

_Miss Four-Legs_ sat awhile with a sulky, discontented air; at lengthshe broke out, --

"Humph! he seems to take no more notice of me than if I was nobody!"

He again turned to the clerk. --"Give her a calico shirt and half a dozenbread-tickets. "

This did not dissipate the gloom on her countenance. Finding that hemust commence the subject, the father says, --

"Well, I have brought you my daughter, according to our agreement. Howdo you like her?"

"Ah, yes--she is a very nice young woman, and would make a first-ratewife, I have no doubt. But do you know a very strange thing has happenedsince you were here? Our father, Governor Cass, [10] has sent for me tocome to Detroit, that he may send me among the Wyandottes and othernations to learn their customs and manners. Now, if I go, as I shall beobliged to do, I shall be absent two or three years, --perhaps four. Whatthen? Why, the people will say, Shaw-nee-aw-kee has married Four-Legs'daughter, and then has hated her and run away from her, and so everybodywill laugh at her, and she will be ashamed. It will be better to takesome good, valuable presents, blankets, guns, etc. , and to marry her toone of her own people, who will always stay by her and take care ofher. "

The old man was shrewd enough to see that it was wisest to make the bestbargain he could. I have no doubt it cost a round sum to settle thematter to the satisfaction of the injured damsel, though I have neverbeen able to ascertain how much. This I know, that the young gentlemantook care not to make his next bargain while in a fit of the ague. Thelady up on the Mississippi is called, in derision, by his name to thisday. 

About midway of the lake we passed Garlic Island--a lovely spot, deserving of a more attractive name. It belonged, together with thevillage on the opposite shore, to "Wild Cat, " a fat, jolly, good-naturedfellow, by no means the formidable animal his name would imply. 

He and his band were absent, like their neighbors of Four-Legs'village, so there was nothing to vary the monotony of our sail. It wastoo wet to sing, and the men, although wrapped in their overcoats, looked like drowned chickens. They were obliged to ply their oars withunusual vigor to keep themselves warm and comfortable, and thus probablyfelt less than we, the dulness and listlessness of the cold, rainy, October day. 

Towards evening the sun shone forth. We had passed into the Fox River, and were just entering that beautiful little expanse known as Butte desMorts Lake, at the farther extremity of which we were to encamp for thenight. 

The water along its shores was green with the fields of wild rice, thegathering of which, just at this season, is an important occupation ofthe Indian women. They push their canoes into the thick masses of therice, bend it forward over the side with their paddles, and then beatthe ripe husks off the stalks into a cloth spread in the canoe. Afterthis, it is rubbed to separate the grain from the husk, and fanned inthe open air. It is then put in their cordage bags and packed away forwinter use. The grain is longer and more slender than the Carolinarice--it is of a greenish-olive color, and, although it forms a pleasantarticle of food, it is far from being particularly nutritive. TheIndians are fond of it in the form of soup, with the addition of birdsor venison. 

CHAPTER VI. 

BREAKFAST AT BETTY MORE'S. 

The earth, the trees, and the shrubbery were all too much filled withthe heavy rain which had fallen to allow us to think of encamping, so wemade arrangements to bestow ourselves in our little saloon for thenight. It was rather a difficult matter to light a fire, but among theunderbrush, in a wild, undisturbed spot, there will always be found somefragments of dried branches, and tufts of grass which the rain has notreached, and by the assistance of the spunk, or light-wood, with whichtravellers always go well provided, a comforting fire was at lengthblazing brightly. 

After our chilling, tedious day, it was pleasant to gather round it, tosit on the end of the blazing logs, and watch the Frenchmen preparingour supper--the kettle nestling in a little nook of bright glowingcoals--the slices of ham browning and crisping on the forked sticks, or"broches, " which the voyageurs dexterously cut, and set around theburning brands--- the savory messes of "pork and onions" hissing in thefrying-pan, always a tempting regale to the hungry Frenchmen. Truly, itneeds a wet, chilly journey, taken nearly fasting, as ours had been, toenable one to enjoy to its full extent that social meal--a supper. 

The bright sun, setting amid brilliant masses of clouds, such as areseen only in our Western skies, gave promise of a fine day on themorrow, with which comforting assurance we were glad to take our leaveof him, and soon after of each other. 

We had hardly roused up the following morning, in obedience to the callof the bourgeois, when our eyes were greeted with the sight of anaddition to our company--a tall, stalwart, fine-looking young _mitiff_, or half-breed, accompanied by two or three Indians. Vociferous andjoyous were the salutations of the latter to their "father" and theirnew "mother. " They were the first Winnebagoes I had seen, and they weredecidedly not the finest specimens of their tribe. The mitiff, a scionof the wide-spreading tree of the Grignons, was the bearer of aninvitation to us from Judge Law, who, with one or two Green Bay friends, was encamped a few miles above, to come and breakfast with him in histent. We had not dreamed of finding white neighbors here, but ourvicinity could be no secret to them, as long as there was an Indian inthe neighborhood. So, delaying only for the soldiers to finish theirbreakfast, we pushed on for the "Butte des Morts, " or, as Mrs. A alwayspersisted in calling it, _Betty More's_. 

The white tent of the Judge gleamed in the morning sun as we approachedthe little rising ground on which it stood. The river was filled withcanoes, paddled principally by squaws. Many Indians were to be seen onthe banks, all with their guns and hunting accoutrements, for the airwas filled in every direction with flocks of teal, which at this seasonare most abundant and delicious. The immense fields of wild riceabounding here and in the little lake below, make this vicinity theirfavorite place of resort in the autumn months. The effect of thisnourishing food is to make the flesh of the birds so fat, so white, andso tender, that a caution is always given to a young sportsman to fireonly at such as fly very low, for if shot high in the air they arebruised to pieces and rendered unfit for eating by their fall to theground. 

We were hemmed in by a little fleet of canoes which surrounded us, thewomen chattering, laughing, and eagerly putting forward their littlewooden bowls of fresh cranberries as an offering of welcome to me. 

I amused myself with tossing crackers to them, some of which would reachthem, others would fall into the water, and then such a scrambling andshouting! Hands and paddles were in requisition, and loud was thetriumph of her who was successful in reaching a floating one. 

Among the Indians with whom Shaw-nee-aw-kee was now engaged in shakinghands, and who all seemed old friends, were many fine, straight, well-formed figures, all of them exhibiting frames capable of enduringfatigue and the hardships of their mode of life. One was describing withmuch gesticulation the abundance of the game in the neighborhood, and heseemed greatly delighted at receiving a quantity of ammunition, withwhich he instantly departed to make good his boasts in the matter. 

After walking a short distance, we reached the tent, where I wasintroduced to Judge Law and a pleasant little gray-haired Frenchgentleman of the name of Porlier. Several voyageurs and half-breeds werenear, the former busily at work, the latter lounging for the most part, and going through with what they had to do with a sort of listlessindifference. 

The contrast between the "all-alive" air of the one class and theapathetic manner of the other, was quite striking. 

After a short conversation among the members of the party, breakfast wasannounced, and we entered the tent and took our seats on the groundaround the Indian mat which supplied the place of a table. 

The post of honor, namely, the _head_ of the table, was of course givento me, so that I could not only look around upon the circle of thecompany, but also enjoy a fine view out of the open door of the tent, and take an observation of all that was going on at the _side-table_outside. Judge Doty sat opposite me, with his back to the opening of thetent, and the other gentlemen on either hand. We had for our waiter thetall "mitiff" who had been the messenger of the morning. He was still inthe same garb--calico shirt, bright-colored scarf around his waist, andon his head a straw hat encircled with a band of black ostrich feathers, the usual dress of his class. 

The tin cups which were to hold our coffee were duly set around, thenbreakfast-plates of the same metal, with knives and forks; then followedthe viands, among the most conspicuous of which was a large tin pan ofboiled ducks. 

The Judge, wishing to show, probably, that, although we were in the vastwilderness, all fastidious nicety had not been left behind, took up theplate which had been set before him, and, seeing something adhering toit which did not exactly please him, handed it over his shoulder toGrignon, requesting him to wipe it carefully. Grignon complied bypulling a black silk barcelona handkerchief out of his bosom, where ithad been snugly tucked away to answer any occasion that might presentitself, and, giving the tin a furious polishing, handed it back again. The Judge looked at it with a smile of approbation, and giving a glancearound the table as much as to say, "You see how I choose to have thingsdone, " applied himself to his breakfast. 

The trail for Fort Winnebago then led from the shore opposite Butte desMorts, through _Ma-zhee-gaw-gaw_ swamp, and past Green Lake, and it waswell for the Judge that his horses stood waiting for him to "mount andaway" as early as possible after breakfast, or I am afraid the story Ishould have been tempted to tell would have made his ride anuncomfortable one throughout the day. 

We had hardly finished breakfast when our hunter, who had received theammunition, returned, bringing with him about fifty fine ducks, which hehad shot in little more than an hour. From that time until the close ofour journey our supply of these delicate birds was never wanting. 

CHAPTER VII. 

BUTTE DES MORTS--LAKE PUCKAWAY. 

The Butte des Morts, or Hillock of the Dead, was the scene longsince[11] of a most sanguinary battle between the French and theMis-qua-kees, or Foxes. So great was the carnage in this engagement, that the memory of it has been perpetuated by the gloomy appellationgiven to the mound where the dead were buried. The Foxes up to this timehad inhabited the shores of the river to which they had given theirname, but, being completely overwhelmed and beaten in this conflict, they retired to the neighborhood of the Mississippi, and sought anasylum among their allies, the Saukies, or, as they are now called, theSauks, with whom they became gradually incorporated, until the combinedtribes came to be known, as at present, by the name of "Sauks andFoxes. "

Among the French inhabitants of the upper country, each tribe of Indianshas a particular appellation, descriptive of some peculiarity of eithertheir habits or their personal appearance. Thus, the Chippewas, fromtheir agility, are denominated "Sauteurs, " or Jumpers; the Ottawas, the"Courtes-oreilles, " or Short-ears. The Menomonees, from the wild rice soabundant in their country, are called "Folles Avoines;"--theWinnebagoes, from their custom of wearing the fur of a polecat on theirlegs when equipped for war, are termed "les Puans;"--the Pottowattamies, from their uncleanly habits, "les Poux;"--the Foxes are "les Renards, "etc. Etc. 

Hence you will never hear a French or half-breed resident of the countrymention an Indian in any other style. "Such a person is a'Court-oreille. '" "Is that woman a 'Winnebago'?" "No, she is a 'FolleAvoine. '" In this manner a stranger is somewhat puzzled at first toclassify the acquaintances he forms. 

All the native friends with whom we were here surrounded were "lesPuans, " or, to use their own euphonious appellation, the"_Ho-tshung-rahs_. "

Having with great regret said adieu to our friend Judge Doty, whosesociety had contributed so much to the pleasure of our trip, and whoseexample, moreover, had given us a valuable lesson to take things as wefind them, we bade good-bye at an early hour after breakfast to our kindhosts, and set forward on our journey. 

From Butte des Morts to the Portage, the distance by land is aboutseventy miles; by water, it is not less than a hundred and thirty, soserpentine is the course of the river through the low swampy prairieswhich stretch over a great portion of this part of the country. 

About six miles above the Butte, a tolerably broad stream, called WolfRiver, joins the Fox, and as it is much the more direct and promising ofthe two, strangers have sometimes mistaken it for the main stream, andjourneyed up it a considerable distance before discovering, to theirgreat chagrin, that they must retrace their steps. 

Beyond this place, the river begins to play its pranks with the compass. As I was always looking out for pretty scenery to sketch, I was at onespot much attracted by a picturesque group on a bank quite close to thestream. There were broad overhanging trees, and two or three wigwamsnestled under their shade. Bright-looking little children, quiteunencumbered with clothing, were sporting about, and their two motherswere sitting on the ground, engaged in the manufacture of a mat fortheir lodge. It was a pretty scene, and I commenced a sketch. As usual, the whole party on the bank set up a shout when they recognizedShaw-nee-aw-kee, --

"Ee-awn-chee-wee-rah, Hee-nee-kar-ray-kay-noo. "[12]

It was an occasion on which they became demonstrative. After a littletime we proceeded, and I went on to complete my drawing. The sun keptcoming more and more into the wrong place. He had been just behind me, presently he was on my left hand, now he was straight ahead. I movedfrom time to time; at length the sun was decidedly on my right hand. What could be the matter? I looked up. "Oh, here is a pretty scene; Imust have this too! But how surprisingly like the one I have justfinished, only in a different direction. " Again we were greeted withshouts and laughter; it was the same spot which we had passed not anhour before, and, having taken a circuit of nearly four miles, we hadreturned to find that we had made an actual progress of only the widthof the bank on which the trees and wigwams stood. Decidedly not veryencouraging to an impatient traveller. 

We reached Lake Puckaway late in the evening of our second day fromButte des Morts. Here lived a white man named Gleason, the sameconcerning whom, owing to his vast powers of exaggeration, poor Hooe wasfond of uttering his little pun, "All is not gold that Gleasons. " We didnot seek shelter at his house, for, late as the season was, we found theshore so infested with mosquitoes that we were glad to choose a spot asfar as possible from the bank, and make ourselves comfortable in ourboat. 

This lake has its name from the long flags or rushes which are found inits waters in great abundance, and of which the squaws manufacture thecoarse matting used in covering their wigwams. Their mode of fabricatingthis is very primitive and simple. Seated on the ground, with the rusheslaid side by side, and fastened at each extremity, they pass theirshuttle, a long flat needle made of bone, to which is attached a pieceof cordage formed of the bark of a tree, through each rush, thusconfining it very closely, and making a fine substantial mat. These matsare seldom more than five or six feet in length, as a greater size wouldbe inconvenient in adjusting and preparing the lodges. 

It is a species of labor usually assigned to the elder women of thefamily. When they become broken down and worn out with exposure andhardship, so that they cannot cut down trees, hoe corn, or carry heavyburdens, they are set to weaving mats, taking care of the children, anddisciplining the dogs, with which every Indian lodge abounds. 

Lac de Boeuf, or Buffalo Lake, into which our course next brought us, isa lovely sheet of water. In some places its banks are exceedinglypicturesque, with beautiful headlands jutting out into the clear depths, where they, and the magnificent groups of trees which crown them, liereflected as in a mirror. Now and then we would catch a glimpse of deerdarting across the glades which at intervals opened through thewoodlands, or a pair of sand-hill cranes would rise, slowly flappingtheir wings, and seek a place of more undisturbed repose. The flocks ofteal now skimming the surface of the water, now rising higher towardsthe shelter of the forests, tempted our sportsman sorely; but, as therewas little prospect of finding his game when it was brought down, he didnot give way to the wanton pleasure of shooting merely to destroy life. 

In quitting this charming lake, and again entering the narrow, tortuouscourse of the river, we bade adieu to everything like scenery, until weshould reach our journey's end. 

We had now seventy miles to pass through a country perfectly monotonousand uninteresting, the distastefulness of which was aggravated by theknowledge that we could, had we been provided with horses or a carriageof any kind, have crossed over to the Portage from Gleason's, through apleasant country, in little more than three hours. Even our greatresource, the cheering, animating songs of our voyageurs, was out of thequestion; for the river, though deep, is so narrow that, in many places, there is no room for the regular play of the oars; and the voices ofFrenchmen can never "keep tune" unless their oars can "keep time. "Lapierre, one of our men, did his best with a paddle, or, as he calledit, the "_little row_, " but it was to no purpose--it _would not go_. Besides this, the wild rice abounds to such an extent in many places, that it almost completely obstructs the progress of even amoderate-sized boat, so that a passage through its tangled masses iswith difficulty forced by the oars. Tedious and monotonous as was thewhole course of the two following days, the climax of impatience anddiscouragement was not reached until we arrived in sight of the whitewalls of Fort Winnebago, looking down from a rising ground upon the vastexpanse of low land through which the river winds. 

The Indians have a tradition that a vast serpent once lived in thewaters of the Mississippi, and that, taking a freak to visit the GreatLakes, he left his trail through the prairies, which, collecting thewaters from the meadows and the rains of heaven as they fell, at lengthbecame the Fox River. 

The little lakes along its course were probably the spots where heflourished about in his uneasy slumbers at night. He must have playedall the antics of a kitten in the neighborhood of the Portage. When thefort was first pointed out to me, I exclaimed, with delight, "Oh, weshall be there in half an hour!"

"Not quite so soon, " said my husband, smiling. "Wait and see. " We satand watched. We seemed approaching the very spot where we were todisembark. We could distinguish the officers and a lady on the bankwaiting to receive us. Now we were turning our backs on them, andshooting out into the prairie again. Anon we approached another bank, onwhich was a range of comfortable-looking log houses. "That's theAgency, " said my husband; "the largest house belongs to Paquette, theinterpreter, and the others are the dwellings of our Frenchmen. Thelittle building, just at the foot of the hill, is the blacksmith's shop, kept there by the Government, that the Indians may have their guns andtraps mended free of expense. "

"But are we going to stop there?"

"No; do you not see we are going back to the fort?"

And, to be sure, our course had now turned, and we were setting in ourfirst direction. In this manner, after tacking to the right and left andputting backwards and forwards during the greater part of two hours, weat length reached the little landing, on which the assembled party stoodready to greet us. 

CHAPTER VIII

FORT WINNEBAGO. 

Major and Mrs. Twiggs, and a few of the younger officers (for nearly allof the older ones were absent), with our brother Robert, or, as he iscalled throughout all the Indian tribes, "Bob, " gave us a cordialwelcome--how cordial those alone can know who have come, like us, to aremote, isolated home in the wilderness. The Major insisted on ourtaking possession at once of vacant quarters in the fort, instead of at"the Agency, " as had been proposed. 

"No--we must be under the same roof with them. Mrs. Twiggs had beenwithout a companion of her own sex for more than four months, and wouldcertainly not hear of a separation now. But we must be their guestsuntil the arrival of the boats containing our furniture, " which, underthe care of our old acquaintance, Hamilton Arndt, was making its wayslowly up from Green Bay. 

A dinner had been prepared for us. This is one of the advantages of thezigzag approach by the Fox River--travellers never take their friends bysurprise; and when the whole circle sat down to the hospitable board, wewere indeed a merry company. 

After dinner Mrs. Twiggs showed me the quarters assigned to us, on theopposite side of the spacious hall. They consisted of two large rooms oneach of the three floors or stories of the building. On the ground-floorthe front room was vacant. The one in the rear was to be thesleeping-apartment, as was evident from a huge, unwieldy bedstead, ofproportions amply sufficient to have accommodated Og, the King ofBashan, with Mrs. Og and the children into the bargain. We could notrepress our laughter; but the bedstead was nothing to another structurewhich occupied a second corner of the apartment. 

This edifice had been built under the immediate superintendence of oneof our young lieutenants, and it was plain to be seen that upon it bothhe and the soldiers who fabricated it had exhausted all theirarchitectural skill. The timbers of which it was composed had beengrooved and carved; the pillars that supported the front swelled in andout in a most fanciful manner; the doors were not only panelled, butradiated in a way to excite the admiration of all unsophisticated eyes. A similar piece of workmanship had been erected in each set of quarters, to supply the deficiency of closets, an inconvenience which had neveroccurred, until too late, to the bachelors who planned them. The threeapartments of which each structure was composed, were unquestionablydesigned for clothes-press, store-room, and china-closet; such, atleast, were the uses to which Mrs. Twiggs had appropriated the oneassigned to her. There was this slight difficulty, that in the latterthe shelves were too close to admit of setting in even a gravy-boat, butthey made up in number what was wanting in space. We christened thewhole affair, in honor of its projector, a "Davis, " thus placing thefirst laurel on the brow of one who was afterwards to signalize himselfin _Cabinet_ making of quite a different character. 

The bold promontory on which Fort Winnebago was built looked down uponthe extended prairie and the Fox River on one side, and on the otherstretched away into the thickly-wooded ridge that led off to BelleFontaine and Lake Puckaway. 

In front lay an extent of meadow, across which was the Portage road, ofabout two miles in length, leading between the Fox and the WisconsinRivers. Teams of oxen and a driver were kept at the Agency by theGovernment, to transport the canoes of the Indians across this place, which at many seasons was wet, miry, and almost impassable. 

The woods were now brilliant with the many tints of autumn, and thescene around was further enlivened by groups of Indians, in alldirections, and their lodges, which were scattered here and there, inthe vicinity of the Agency buildings. On the low grounds might be seenthe white tents of the traders, already prepared to furnish wintersupplies to the Indians, in exchange for the annuity money they wereabout to receive. 

A great concourse had been for many days assembling in anticipation ofthe payment, which was expected to take place as soon as Shaw-nee-aw-keeshould arrive with the silver. 

Preparatory to this event, the great chief of the nation, Four-Legs, whose village we had passed at the entrance to Winnebago Lake, hadthought proper to take a little carouse, as is too apt to be the customwhen the savages come into the neighborhood of a sutler's establishment. In the present instance, the facilities for a season of intoxication hadbeen augmented by the presence on the ground of some traders, tooregardless of the very stringent laws prohibiting the sale of liquor tothe Indians. 

Poor Four-Legs could not stand this full tide of prosperity. Uncheckedby the presence of his Father, the agent, he carried his indulgence tosuch excess that he fell a victim in the course of a few days. Hisfuneral had been celebrated with unusual pomp the day before ourarrival, and great was my disappointment at finding myself too late towitness all the ceremonies. 

His body, according to their custom, having been wrapped in a blanket, and placed in a rude coffin, along with his guns, tomahawk, pipes, and aquantity of tobacco, had been carried to the most elevated point of thehill opposite the fort, followed by an immense procession of his people, whooping, beating their drums, howling, and making altogether what isemphatically termed a "_pow-wow_"

After the interment of the body, a stake was planted at its head, onwhich was painted in vermilion a series of hieroglyphics, descriptive ofthe great deeds and events of his life The whole was then surroundedwith pickets of the trunks of the tamarack-trees, and hither the friendswould come for many successive days to renew the expression of theirgrief, and to throw over the grave tobacco and other offerings to theGreat Spirit. 

It was a consolation to find that, although delayed, we were yet in timeto furnish a quantity of white cotton for a flag to wave over the grave, and also to pay a considerable bill at the sutler's for the differentarticles that had been found necessary for the funeral parade--it beinga duty expected of their Father to bury the dead suitably. 

The funeral observances in honor of the chief had not yet ceased. Throughout the day, and all that night, the sound of instruments, mingled with doleful lamentations, and with the discordant whoops andyells of those in a partial state of intoxication, filled the air, anddisturbed our repose. To these were added occasionally the plaintivesounds of the Indian flute, upon which the young savage plays when he isin love. Grief and whiskey had made their hearts tender, and the woodsresounded to their melancholy strains. 

Early the following morning, before I left my room, I was startled bythe sounds of lamentation and woe proceeding from the adjoiningapartment. On entering it, I found several squaws seated on the floor, with downcast looks expressive of condolence and sympathy, while intheir midst sat a little ugly woman, in tattered garments, withblackened face and dishevelled hair, sobbing and wailing bitterly. 

Not doubting they were the family of the deceased chief, I was quitetroubled at my inability to express, otherwise than by gestures, myparticipation in their sorrows. 

Unacquainted as I was with their customs, I took it for granted fromtheir wretched appearance that poverty and destitution formed one of thesources of their affliction. One of the party, at least, seemed in thevery depths of misery. "Can it be possible, " said I to myself, "thatthis poor creature has only these scanty rags to cover her?"

Stepping back to my own room, I brought out a pretty calico wrapper, which I presented to the little, dirty, blackened object. She took it, and commenced a fresh series of sobbing and sighing. I made signs to herto put it on, opening it and explaining to her how it was to be worn, and recommending to her, by gestures, to lose no time in making herselfmore comfortable. 

At this, the other women burst into a laugh. 

"Very mal-à-propos, " thought I, "and somewhat unfeeling. " At that momentmy husband, entering, explained to me that the chief mourner was MadameFour-Legs, the widow; that she had undoubtedly a comfortable wardrobe athome, but that it was part of the etiquette of mourning to go for aseason with neglected persons and blackened faces. All this was told mein the intervals of shaking hands, and offering and receivingcondolences in the most uncouth, guttural language I had ever heard. Their Father at length dismissed them, with a promise of some presentsto help dry up their tears. It must not be inferred that the grief ofthe poor little widow was not sincere. On the contrary, she was greatlyattached to her husband, and had had great influence not only with himbut with the nation at large. She was a Fox woman, and spoke theChippewa, which is the court language among all the tribes, so that shewas often called upon to act as interpreter, and had, in fact, been inthe habit of accompanying her husband, and assisting him by her counselsupon all occasions. She was a person of great shrewdness and judgment, and, as I afterwards experienced, of strong and tenacious affections. 

After breakfast I received a visit from the principal chiefs, who hadput on their best of apparel and paint to receive their new mother. 

There was Naw-kaw, or Kar-ray-mau-nee, "the Walking Turtle, " now theprincipal chief of the nation, a stalwart Indian, with a broad, pleasantcountenance, the great peculiarity of which was an immense under lip, hanging nearly to his chin. There was the old Day-kau-ray, the mostnoble, dignified, and venerable of his own, or indeed of any tribe. Hisfine Roman countenance, rendered still more striking by his bald head, with one solitary tuft of long silvery hair neatly tied and falling backon his shoulders; his perfectly neat, appropriate dress, almost withoutornament, and his courteous demeanor, never laid aside under anycircumstances, all combined to give him the highest place in theconsideration of all who knew him. It will hereafter be seen that histraits of character were not less grand and striking than were hispersonal appearance and deportment. 

There was Black-Wolf, whose lowering, surly face was well described byhis name. The fierce expression of his countenance was greatlyheightened by the masses of heavy black hair hanging round it, quitecontrary to the usual fashion among the Winnebagoes. They, for the mostpart, remove a portion of their hair, the remainder of which is drawn tothe back of the head, clubbed and ornamented with beads, ribbons, cock'sfeathers, or, if they are so entitled, an eagle's feather for everyscalp taken from an enemy. 

There was _Talk-English, _ a remarkably handsome, powerful young Indian, who received his name in the following manner. He was one of a party ofsixteen Winnebagoes who had, by invitation, accompanied their Agent andMajor Forsyth (or the Chippewa, as he was called) on a visit to thePresident at Washington, the year previous. 

On the journey, the question naturally addressed to them by people notfamiliar with Western Indians was, --

"Do you talk English?"

The young fellow, being very observant, came to his Father. "What dothey mean by this? Everybody says to me, _talk English!_"

The Agent interpreted the words to him. "Ah, very well. "

The next place they arrived at was Lockport, in the State of New York. Jumping off the canal-boat upon the lock, he ran up to the first man hemet, and, thrusting forward his face, cried out, "Talk Eengeesh?"

"Yes, " said the man; "do you talk English?"

"Ya-as. "

From that time forward he always bore the name of _Talk-English_, andwas registered on the pay-rolls by a title of which he was not a littleproud. 

Hoo-wau-ne-kah, "the Little Elk, " was another of the distinguished menof the tribe. He had likewise been at Washington. Henry Clay, when hevisited them, after looking carefully at the countenances and bearingof all the members of the deputation, had indicated him as the onepossessing the greatest talent; and he was greatly pleased when informedthat he was the principal orator of the nation, and decidedly superiorin abilities to any other individual of the tribe. 

Wild-Cat, our Indian Falstaff in all save the cowardice and falsehood, Ihave already mentioned. 

Then there was Kau-ray-kaw-saw-kaw, "the White Crow, " a Rock RiverIndian, who afterwards distinguished himself as the friend of the whitesduring the Sauk war. He was called by the French "le Borgne, " fromhaving lost an eye; and the black silk handkerchief which he woredrooping over the left side of his face to disguise the blemish, takenwith his native costume, gave him a very singular appearance. 

There was a nephew of the defunct chief Four-Legs, to whom with justicewas given, by both whites and Indians, the appellation of "the Dandy. "When out of mourning his dress was of the most studied and fancifulcharacter. A shirt (when he condescended to wear any) of the brightestcolors, ornamented with innumerable rows of silver brooches set thicklytogether; never less than two pairs of silver arm-bands; leggings andmoccasins of the most elaborate embroidery in ribbons andporcupine-quills; everything that he could devise in the shape ofornament hanging to his club of hair behind; a feather fan in one hand, and in the other a mirror, in which he contemplated himself every fiveminutes; these, with the variety and brilliancy of the colors upon hisface, the suitable choice and application of which occupied no smallportion of the hours allotted to his toilet, made up the equipment ofyoung Four-Legs. 

This devotion to dress and appearance seemed not altogether out ofplace in a youthful dandy; but we had likewise an old one of the samestamp. Pawnee Blanc, or the White Pawnee, surpassed his youngercompetitor, if possible, in attention to his personal attractions. 

Upon the present occasion he appeared in all his finery, and wentthrough the customary salutations with an air of solemn dignity, thenwalked, as did the others, into the parlor (for I had received them inthe hall), where they all seated themselves upon the floor. Fortunately, the room was now bare of furniture, but "alas!" thought I, "for mypretty carpet, if this is to be the way they pay their respects to me!"I watched the falling of the ashes from their long pipes, and the otherinconveniences of the use of tobacco, or kin-nee-kin-nick, with absolutedismay. 

The visit of the chiefs was succeeded by one from the interpreter andhis wife, with all the Canadian and half-breed women, whose husbandsfound employment at the Agency or at the American Fur Company'sestablishment. 

By this time my piano had been taken from its case and set up in ourquarters. To our great joy, we found it entirely uninjured. Thanks tothe skill of Nunns and Clark, not a note was out of tune. 

The women, to whom it was an entire novelty, were loud in theirexclamations of wonder and delight. 

"_Eh-h-h! regardez donc! Quelles inventions! Quelles merveilles!_"[13]

One, observing the play of my fingers reflected in the nameboard, calledin great exultation to her companions. She had discovered, as shethought, the hidden machinery by which the sounds were produced, and wasnot a little mortified when she was undeceived. 

CHAPTER IX. 

HOUSEKEEPING. 

As the boats might be expected in a few days, it was thought best tobegin at once what preparations were in my power towards housekeeping. These were simply the fitting and sewing of my carpets, in which I waskindly assisted by Mrs. Twiggs; and, the wife of one of our Frenchmenhaving come over from the Agency and made everything tidy andcomfortable, the carpets were soon tacked down, and the rooms were readyfor the reception of the rest of the furniture. 

I had made many fruitless attempts, both in Detroit and Green Bay, toprocure a servant-woman to accompany me to my new home. Sometimes onewould present herself, but, before we could come to a final agreement, the thoughts of the distance, of the savages, the hardships of thejourney, or, perhaps, the objections of friends, would interfere tobreak off the negotiation; so that I had at length been obliged to restsatisfied with the simple hope held out by my husband, that one of hisFrench employés, with his wife, would be contented to take up theirabode with us. 

In this state of things, all difficulties seemed to be obviated by theproposal of Major Twiggs, that we should take into our service a youngcolored girl whom he had brought from Buffalo, in the spring, to wait onMrs. T. Until her own servants should arrive from the South. 

Louisa was accordingly sent for, an uncommonly handsome young negress, with an intelligent but very demure countenance, who called herselffifteen years of age, but who, from the progress in vice and iniquity Iafterwards discovered her to have made, must have been at least severalyears older. Be that as it may, she now seemed to have no fault butcarelessness and inexperience, both of which I had great hopes she wouldget the better of, under careful training. 

My first week's visit with Mrs. Twiggs had just expired when word wasgiven that the boats were in sight--the boats that contained ourfurniture--and the expected arrival of Louis Philippe to visit QueenVictoria could scarcely have created a more universal sensation, thandid this announcement in our little community. Although we knew thatsome hours must yet elapse before they could reach the spot fordisembarkation, we were constantly on the watch, and at length all theyoung officers, followed by as many of the soldiers as were off duty, accompanied Mr. Kinzie down the bank to the landing, to witness and, ifnecessary, to assist in helping everything safe to land. 

Sad was the plight in which matters were found. The water poured out ofthe corners of the boxes as they were successively hoisted on shore. Tooimpatient to wait until they could be carried up to the fort, thegentlemen soon furnished themselves with, hammers and hatchets, and felleagerly to work, opening the boxes to explore the extent of the damage. Alas for the mahogany! not a piece from which the edges and veneeringwere not starting. It had all the appearance of having lain under theGrande Chûte for days. Poor Hamilton was load in his protestations andexcuses. 

It was the fault of the men, of the weather, of the way the things werepacked. "Confound it! he had taken the best care of the things hepossibly could--better than he had ever taken before--it _would_ getdone!"

There was nothing but to be patient and make the best of it. And whenthe pretty sideboard and work-table had been thoroughly rubbed and setup, and all the little knick-knacks arranged on the mantel-piece--whenthe white curtains were hung at the windows, and the chairs anddining-table each in its proper place in relation to the piano, ourparlor was pronounced "magnificent. " At least so seemed to thinkHamilton, who came to give one admiring look, and to hear the music ofthe piano, which was a perfect novelty to him. His description of it tothe young officers, after his return to the Bay, was expressive of hisadmiration and wonder--"There it stood on its four legs! Anybody mightgo up and touch it!"

In due time the dinner- and tea-sets were carefully bestowed in the"Davis, " together with sundry jars of sweetmeats that I had prepared inDetroit; the iron and tin utensils were placed in a neat cupboard in thekitchen, of which my piano-box supplied the frame; the barrel of eggsand tubs of butter, brought all the way from Ohio, were ranged in thestore-room; a suitable quantity of salt pork and flour was purchasedfrom the commissary; and, there being no lack of game of everydescription, the offering of our red children, we were ready to commencehousekeeping. 

The first dinner in her own home is an era in the life of a younghousekeeper. I shall certainly never forget mine. While I was in thelower regions superintending my very inexpert little cook, my husbandmade his appearance, to say that, as the payment (then the all-absorbingtopic of interest) would not commence until afternoon, he had invited M. Rolette, Mr. Hempstead, and four other gentlemen to dine with us. 

"So unexpected--so unprepared for?"

"Never mind; give them anything you have. They have been living forsome days in tents, and anything will taste well to them. "

My dinner had been intended to consist chiefly of a venison pasty, andfortunately the only dish among my store was of very large proportions, so that there was already smoking in the oven a pie of a size nearlyequal to the famous Norwich pudding; thus, with some trifling additionsto the bill of fare, we made out very well, and the master of the househad the satisfaction of hearing the impromptu dinner very much commendedby his six guests. 

CHAPTER X. 

INDIAN PAYMENT--MRS. WASHINGTON. 

There were two divisions of the Winnebago Indians, one of which was paidby the Agent, at the Portage, the other at Prairie du Chien, by GeneralStreet. The first, between four and five thousand in number, received, according to treaty stipulations, fifteen thousand dollars annually, besides a considerable amount of presents, and a certain number ofrations of bread and pork, to be issued in times of emergency throughoutthe year. 

The principal villages of this division of the tribe were at LakeWinnebago, Green and Fox Lakes, the Barribault, Mud Lake, the FourLakes, Kosh-ko-nong, and Turtle Creek. Messengers were dispatched, at orbefore the arrival of the annuity-money, to all the different villages, to notify the heads of families or lodges to assemble at "the Portage. "

When arrived, the masters of families, under their different chiefs, give in their names, and the number in their lodges, to be registered. As, in paying, a certain sum of money is apportioned to each individual, it is, of course, an object to the head of a lodge to make the numberregistered as great as possible. Each one brings his little bundle ofsticks, and presents it to the Agent to register. Sometimes a dialoguelike the following occurs:

"How many have you in your lodge?"

The Indian carefully, and with great ceremony, counts his bundle ofsticks--"Fifteen"

"How many men?"

"Two. " The Agent lays aside two sticks

"How many women?"

"Three. " Three more sticks are separated. 

"How many children?"

"Eight" Eight sticks are added to the heap. 

"What is the meaning of these two sticks that remain?"

The culprit, whose arithmetic has not served him to carry out hisdeception, disappears amid the shouts and jeers of his companions, whoare always well pleased at the detection of any roguery in which theyhave had no share. 

The young officers generally assisted in counting out and delivering themoney at these payments, and it was no unusual thing, as the last bandcame up, for the chiefs to take a quantity of silver out of the box andrequest their Father to pay his friends for their trouble, seemingreally disturbed at his refusal. In this, as in almost every instance, we see the native courtesy and politeness, which are never lost sight ofamong them. If a party comes to their Father to beg for provisions, andfood is offered them, however hungry they may be, each waits patientlyuntil one of the company makes an equal distribution of the whole, andthen, taking his share, eats it quietly, with the greatest moderation. Inever saw this rule violated, save in one instance. 

Our friend, Pawnee Blanc, _the Old Dandy_, once came with a party ofIndians, requesting permission to dance for us in the open space beforethe door. It was a warm, dusty afternoon, and as our friends grew heatedand fatigued with the violent and long-continued exercise, a pitcher ofraspberry negus was prepared and sent out to them. Pawnee received thepitcher and tumbler, and, pouring the latter about half full, gave it tothe first of the circle, then filled the same for the next, and so on, until it suddenly occurred to him to look into the pitcher. What he sawthere determined his course of action; so, setting the tumbler upon theground, he raised the pitcher with both hands to his lips and gave ahearty pull, after which he went on, giving less and less, until he wascalled to have the pitcher replenished. All present agreed it was theonly instance they had ever witnessed, of an Indian's appearing afraidof getting less of a thing than his share. 

During the payment a good many kegs of whiskey find their way into thelodges of the Indians, notwithstanding the watchfulness of both officersand Agent. Where there is a demand there will always be a supply, letthe legal prohibitions be what they may. The last day of the payment is, invariably, one of general carousing. 

When the men begin their _frolic_, the women carefully gather all theguns, knives, tomahawks, and weapons of every description, and secretethem, that as little mischief as possible may be done in the absence ofall restraint and reason. I am sorry to record that our little friend, Pawnee Blanc, was greatly addicted to the pleasures of the bottle. 

Among the presents for the chiefs, which Shaw-nee-aw-kee had broughtfrom the East, was a trunk of blue cloth coats, trimmed with broad goldlace, and a box of round black hats, ornamented in a similar manner. Allwho are familiar with Indians, of whatever tribe, will have observedthat their first step towards civilization, whether in man or woman, ismounting a man's hat, decorated with tinsel; ribbons, or feathers. Pawnee was among the happy number remembered in the distribution; so, donning at once his new costume, and tying a few additional bunches ofgay-colored ribbons to a long spear, that was always his baton ofceremony, he came at once, followed by an admiring train, chiefly ofwomen, to pay me a visit of state. 

The solemn gravity of his countenance, as he motioned away those whowould approach too near and finger his newly-received finery--thedignity with which he strutted along, edging this way and that to avoidany possible contact from homely, every-day wardrobes--augured well fora continuance of propriety and self-respect, and a due consideration ofthe good opinion of all around. But, alas for Pawnee! late in the day wesaw him assisted towards his lodge by two stout young Indians, who hadpulled him out of a ditch, his fine coat covered with mud, his hatbattered and bruised, his spear shorn of its gay streamers, and poorPawnee himself weeping and uttering all the doleful lamentations of atipsy Indian. 

 * * * * *

Among the women with whom I early made acquaintance was the wife ofWau-kaun-zee-kah, _the Yellow Thunder_. She had accompanied her husband, who was one of the deputation to visit the President, and from that timeforth she had been known as "the Washington woman. " She had a pleasant, old-acquaintance sort of air in greeting me, as much as to say, "Youand I have seen something of the world. " No expression of surprise oradmiration escaped her lips, as her companions, with childlike, laughingsimplicity, exclaimed and clapped their hands at the different wonderfulobjects I showed them. Her deportment said plainly, "Yes, yes, mychildren, I have seen all these things before. " It was not until I putto her ear a tropical shell, of which I had a little cabinet, and sheheard its murmuring sound, that she laid aside her apathy of manner. Shepoked her finger into the opening to get at the animal within, shook itviolently, then raised it to her ear again, and finally burst into ahearty laugh, and laid it down, acknowledging, by her looks, that thiswas beyond her comprehension. 

I had one shell of peculiar beauty--my favorite in the wholecollection--a small conch, covered with rich, dark veins. Each of thevisitors successively took up this shell, and by words and gesturesexpressed her admiration, evidently showing that she had an eye forbeauty--this was on the occasion of the parting visit of my reddaughters. 

Shortly after the payment had been completed, and the Indians had left, I discovered that my valued shell was missing from the collection. Couldit be that one of the squaws had stolen it? It was possible--they wouldoccasionally, though rarely, do such things under the influence ofstrong temptation. I tried to recollect which, among the party, lookedmost likely to have been the culprit. It could not have been theWashington woman--she was partly civilized, and knew better. 

A few weeks afterwards Mrs. _Yellow Thunder_ again made her appearance, and carefully unfolding a gay-colored chintz shawl, which she carriedrolled up in her hand, she produced the shell, and laid it on the tablebefore me. I did not know whether to show, by my countenance, displeasure at the trick she had played me, or joy at receiving mytreasure back again, but at length decided that it was the best policyto manifest no emotion whatever. 

She prolonged her visit until my husband's return, and he thenquestioned her about the matter. 

"She had taken the shell to her village, to show to some of her people, who did not come to the payment. "

"Why had she not asked her mother's leave before carrying it away?"

"Because she saw that her mother liked the shell, and she was afraid shewould say, No. "

This was not the first instance in which Madame Washington had displayedthe shrewdness which was a predominant trait in her character. Duringthe visit of the Indians to the Eastern cities, they were taken tovarious exhibitions, museums, menageries, theatres, etc. It did notescape their observation that some silver was always paid beforeentrance, and they inquired the reason. It was explained to them. Thewoman brightened up, as if struck with an idea. 

"How much do you pay for each one?"

Her Father told her. 

"How do you say that in English?"

"Two shillings. "

"_Two shinnin--humph_" (good). 

The next day, when, as usual, visitors began to flock to the rooms wherethe Indians were sojourning, the woman and a young Indian, herconfederate, took their station by the door, which they kept closed. When any one knocked, the door was cautiously opened, and the woman, extending her hand, exclaimed--"_Two shinnin_. "

This was readily paid in each instance, and the game went on, until shehad accumulated a considerable sum. But this did not satisfy her. At thefirst attempt of a visitor to leave the room, the door was held close, as before, the hand was extended, and "_Two shinnin_" again met his ear. He tried to explain that, having paid for his entrance, he must go outfree. With an innocent shake of the head, "_Two shinnin_, " was all theEnglish she could understand. 

The Agent, who had entered a short time before, and who, overhearing thedialogue, sat laughing behind his newspaper, waiting to see how it wouldall end, now came forward and interfered, and the guests were permittedto go forth without a further contribution. 

The good woman was moreover admonished that it was far from the customof white people to tax their friends and visitors in this manner, andthat the practice must be laid aside in future. 

Another instance of the disposition of the Indians to avail themselvesof all the goods that fortune throws in their way, was the following:

Upon the same trip, while passing through Ohio, one of the partyinquired of the Agent, --

"Do you pay for all those provisions that are set before us at thehotels?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing: I thought you perhaps paid for just what we ate of them. "

At the next stopping-place a fine breakfast was set upon the table, ofwhich, as usual, they partook plentifully. Just as they had finished, the horn sounded for all to take their places in the stage-coaches. Eachsprang to his feet. One seized the plates of biscuits and poured theminto the corner of his blanket; another the remains of a pair ofchickens; a third emptied the sugar-bowls; each laid hold of what wasnearest him, and in a trice nothing was left upon the table but theempty plates and dishes. The landlord and waiters, meanwhile, stoodlaughing and enjoying the trick as much as any of the spectators. 

Upon another occasion, their Father had endeavored to impress upon themthe unseemliness of throwing their refuse pieces, bones, and fragmentsof food about on the table-cloth, pointing out to them the orderlymanner of the whites at table, and the propriety of keeping everythingneat and nice around them. 

At their next meal, they were served first with a chicken-pie, of whichthey ate very heartily, and the accumulation of bones on their plateswas very abundant. Presently another and more favorite dish appeared, --afine, large, roasted turkey. A gentleman sat near, and was evidentlypreparing to carve it. No time was to be lost. What was to be done withthe bones? They looked around in some perplexity. A large apple-pie wasstanding near. The most eager drew it towards him, and quick as thoughtall the bones were deposited upon it, while, with a triumphant laugh atthe happy idea, he coolly transferred the bird to his own dish, andproceeded to distribute it among his companions. The amazed strangersoon joined in the laugh at the unceremonious manner in which his shareof the dinner had vanished. 

CHAPTER XI. 

LOUISA--DAY-KAU-RAY ON EDUCATION. 

The payment was now over, and the Indians had dispersed and gone totheir wintering grounds. The traders, too, had departed, laden with agood share of the silver, in exchange for which each family had provideditself, as far as possible, with clothing, guns, traps, ammunition, andthe other necessaries for their winter use. The Indians are good at abargain. They are not easily overreached. On the contrary, theyunderstand at once when a charge is exorbitant; and a trader who trieshis shrewdness upon them is sure to receive an expressive _sobriquet_, which ever after clings to him. 

For instance, M. Rolette was called by them "Ah-kay-zaup-ee-tah, " _fivemore_--because, as they said, let them offer what number of skins theymight, in bartering for an article, his terms were invariably "fivemore"

Upon one occasion a lady remarked to him, "Oh, M. Rolette, I would notbe engaged in the Indian trade; it seems to me a system of cheating thepoor Indians. "

"Let me tell you, madame, " replied he, with great _naïveté_, "it is notso easy a thing to cheat the Indians as you imagine. I have tried itthese twenty years, and have never succeeded!"

 * * * * *

We were now settled down to a quiet, domestic life. The military systemunder which everything was conducted--the bugle-call, followed by themusic of a very good band, at reveille; the light, animated strains for"sick-call, " and soon after for "breakfast;" the longer ceremony of"guard-mounting;" the "Old English Roast-Beef, " to announce thedinner-hour; the sweet, plaintive strains of "Lochaber no more, "followed most incongruously by "The Little Cock-Sparrow, " at retreat;and, finally, the long, rolling "tattoo, " late in the evening--madepleasant divisions of our time, which, by the aid of books, music, anddrawing, in addition to household occupations, seemed to fly moreswiftly than ever before. It was on Sunday that I most missed my Easternhome. I had planned beforehand what we should do on the first recurrenceof this sacred day, under our own roof. "We shall have at least, " said Ito myself, "the Sabbath's quiet and repose, and I can, among otherthings, benefit poor Louisa by giving her some additional lessons of aserious character. "

So, while she was removing the breakfast-things, I said to her, --

"Now, Louisa, get your work all finished, and everything put neatlyaside, and then come here to me again. "

"Yes, ma'am. "

We sat down to our books, and read and waited; we waited and readanother hour--no Louisa. 

There was music and the sound of voices on the parade in front of ourwindows, but that did not disturb us; it was what we were dailyaccustomed to. 

I must go at length, and see what could be keeping my damsel so. Idescended to the kitchen. The breakfast-things stood upon the table--thekettles and spider upon the hearth--the fire was out--the kitchen empty. 

Passing back into the hall, which extended the whole length of the houseand opened in front upon the parade, I perceived a group collected inthe area, of all shades and colors, and in the midst, one round, woollyhead which I could not mistake, bobbing up and down, now on this side, now on that, while peals of laughter were issuing from the whole group. 

"Louisa, " I called, "come here. What are you doing there?"

"Looking at inspection. "

"But why are not your breakfast-things washed, and your kitchen swept?Did I not tell you I wished you to come up and learn your lessons?"

"Yes, ma'am; but I had to see inspection first. Everybody looks atinspection on Sunday. "

I found it was in vain to expect to do more for Louisa than give her anafternoon's lesson, and with that I was obliged to content myself. 

I felt that it would be very pleasant, and perhaps profitable, for allthe inmates of the garrison to assemble on this day; one of our numbermight be found who would read a portion of the church-service, with asermon from one of our different selections. 

I approached the subject cautiously, with an inquiry to this effect:

"Are there none among the officers who are religiously disposed?"

"Oh, yes, " replied the one whom I addressed, "there is S----; when he ishalf tipsy, he takes his Bible and 'Newton's Works, ' and goes to bed andcries over them; he thinks in this way he is excessively pious. "

S---- was among the officers who had never called upon us; it was fairto infer that if his religious principles did not correct his own evilhabits they would not aid much in improving others; therefore it seemeduseless to call in his co-operation in any scheme for a betterobservance of the Lord's day. 

We had to content ourselves with writing to our friends at the East tointerest themselves in getting a missionary sent to us, who shouldofficiate as chaplain in the garrison--a plan that seemed to find favorwith the officers. The hope of any united religious services was, forthe present, laid aside. 

The post-surgeon having obtained a furlough, his place was supplied byDr. Newhall, of Galena, and thus, by the addition of his gentle, quietwife, our circle of ladies was now enlarged to three. Here we were, in awilderness, but yet how contented and happy!

A gloom was soon to replace this envied tranquillity in our home. AFrenchman, named Letendre, one day suddenly presented himself. He hadcome from Chicago, with the distressing intelligence of theextreme--indeed, hopeless--illness of our dear relative, Dr. Wolcott. Myhusband immediately commenced his preparations for instant departure. Ibegged to be permitted to accompany him, but the rapidity with which heproposed to journey obliged him to refuse my entreaties. In a few hourshis provisions, horses, and all other things necessary for the journeywere in readiness, and he set off with Petaille Grignon, his usualattendant on such expeditions, leaving Letendre to follow as soon asrecruited from his fatigue. 

Sad and dreary were the hours of his absence, notwithstanding the kindefforts of our friends to cheer me. In a few days I received the news ofthe fatal termination of Dr. W. 's illness, brought by another messenger. That noble heart, so full of warm and kindly affections, had ceased tobeat, and sad and desolate indeed were those who had so loved andhonored him. 

As soon as he could possibly leave his family, my husband returned; andit was fortunate that he had delayed no longer, for the winter now beganto set in, and with severity. 

Our quarters were spacious, but having been constructed of the greentrees of the forest, cut down and sawed into boards by the bands of thesoldiers, they were considerably given to shrinking and warping, thusleaving many a yawning crevice. Stuffing the cracks with cotton batting, and pasting strips of paper over them, formed the employment of many aleisure hour. 

Then the chimneys, spite of all the currents of air, which might havebeen expected to create a draught, had a sad habit of smoking. To remedythis, a couple of gun-barrels were, by order of the commanding officer, sawed off and inserted in the hearth, one on each side of thefire-place, in the hope that the air from the room below might help tocarry the smoke into its proper place, the chimney. 

The next morning after this had been done, Louisa was washing thehearth. 

"Pray, ma'am, " said she, "what are these things put in here for?"

I explained their use. 

"Oh, I am so glad it is only that! Uncle Ephraim (Major Twiggs'sservant) said they were to be filled with powder and fired off ChristmasDay, and he was terribly afraid they would blow the house up, and we init. "

Ephraim, who was a most faithful and valuable servant, often amusedhimself with playing upon the credulity of the younger portions of thecolored fraternity. 

"Is it true, " asked Louisa, one day, "that Pillon and Plante were onceprairie-wolves?"

"Prairie-wolves! what an idea! Why do you ask such a foolish question?"

"Because Uncle Ephraim says they, and all the Frenchmen about here, wereonce prairie-wolves, and that, living so near the white people, theygrow, after a time, to be like them, and learn to talk and dress likethem. And then, when they get to be old, they turn back intoprairie-wolves again, and that all the wolves that the officers baitwith their dogs used to be Frenchmen, once. "

After a time, however, I ceased to straighten out these stories of UncleEphraim, for I was gradually arriving at the conviction that my littlecolored damsel was by no means so simple and unsophisticated as shewould have me believe, and that I was, after all, the one who wasimposed upon. 

The snow this winter was prodigious, and the cold intense. The waterwould freeze in our parlors at a very short distance from the fire, for, although the "fatigue-parties" kept the halls filled with wood, almostup to the ceiling, that did not counterbalance the inconvenience ofhaving the wide doors thrown open to the outer air for a great portionof the day, to allow of their bringing it in. We Northerners should havehad wood-houses specially for the purpose, and not only have kept ourgreat hall-doors closed, but have likewise protected them with a"hurricane-house. " But the Florida frontier was not a climate in whichour Southern bachelors could have acquired the knowledge available whenthe thermometer was twenty-five degrees below zero--a point at whichbrandy congealed in the sideboard. 

The arrival of Christmas and New-Year's brought us our Indian friendsagain. They had learned something of the observance of these holidaysfrom their French neighbors, and I had been forewarned that I should seethe squaws kissing every white man they met. Although not crediting thisto its full extent, I could readily believe that they would each expecta present, as a "compliment of the season, " so I duly prepared myselfwith a supply of beads, ribbons, combs, and other trinkets. Knowingthem to be fond of dainties, I had also a quantity of crullers anddoughnuts made ready the day before, as a treat to them. 

To my great surprise and annoyance, only a moderate share of the cakes, the frying of which had been intrusted to Louisa, were brought up to beplaced in the "Davis. "

"Where are the rest of the cakes, Louisa?"

"That great fellow, Hancock, came in with the fatigue-party to fill thewater-barrels, and while I had just stepped into the store-room to getsome more flour, he carried off all I had got cooked. "

And Louisa made a face and whined, as if she had not herself treatedevery soldier who had set his foot in the premises. 

At an early hour the next morning I had quite a levee of theHo-tshung-rah matrons. They seated themselves in a circle on the floor, and I was sorry to observe that the application of a little soap andwater to their blankets had formed no part of their holidaypreparations. There being no one to interpret, I thought I would beginthe conversation in a way intelligible to themselves, so I brought outof the sideboard a china dish, filled with the nice brown crullers, overwhich I had grated, according to custom, a goodly quantity of whitesugar. I handed it to the first of the circle. She took the dish from myhand, and, deliberately pouring all the cakes into the corner of herblanket, returned it to me empty. "She must be a meat voracious person, "thought I; "but I will manage better the next time. " I refilled thedish, and approached the next one, taking care to keep a fast hold of itas I offered the contents, of which I supposed she would modestly takeone. Not so, however. She scooped out the whole with her two hands, and, like the former, bestowed them in her blanket. My sense of politenessrevolted at handing them out one by one, as we do to children, so I satdown to deliberate what was to be done, for evidently the supply wouldnot long answer such an ample demand, and there would be more visitorsanon. 

While I was thus perplexed, those who had received the cakes commenced adistribution, and the whole number was equitably divided among thecompany. But I observed they did not eat them. They passed their fingersover the grated sugar, looked in each other's faces, and muttered in lowtones--there was evidently something they did not understand. Presentlyone more adventurous than the rest wet her fingers, and taking up a fewgrains of the sugar put it cautiously to her mouth. 

"Tah-nee-zhoo-rah!" (Sugar!) was her delighted exclamation, and they allbroke out into a hearty laugh. It is needless to say that the cakesdisappeared with all the celerity they deemed compatible withgood-breeding. Never having seen any sugar but the brown or yellowmaple, they had supposed the white substance to be salt, and for thatreason had hesitated to taste it. 

Their visit was prolonged until Shaw-nee-aw-kee made his appearance, andthen, having been made happy by their various gifts, they all took theirdeparture. 

About this time, Mr. Kinzie received a letter from Colonel Richard M. Johnson, of Kentucky. This gentleman had interested himself greatly in aschool established in that State for the education of Indian youths andchildren. The purport of his letter was to request the Agent to useevery endeavor to induce the Winnebagoes not only to send their childrento this institution for their education, but also (what was still moreimportant) to set apart a portion of their annuity-money to assist insustaining it. 

There happened to be, at this holiday season, a number of the chiefs inthe neighborhood of the Portage, and a messenger was sent to convenethem all at the house of Paquette, the interpreter, that their Fathermight hold a talk with them. 

On the day appointed they all assembled. The subject-matter of theletter was laid before them, and all the advantages of civilization andeducation duly set forth--the benefits which would arise to theirnation, if even a small portion of the younger members could be welltaught by the whites, and then return to their tribe, to instruct themin the learning, the arts, manufactures, and habits of civilized life. To each paragraph, as it was uttered to them, they responded with aunanimous "Humph!" (Good!)

When their Father's address was ended, _Day-kau-ray_, the oldest andmost venerable among the chiefs, rose and spoke as follows:

"Father, --The Great Spirit made the white man and the Indian. He did notmake them alike. He gave the white man a heart to love peace, and thearts of a quiet life. He taught him to live in towns, to build houses, to make books, to learn all things that would make him happy andprosperous in the way of life appointed him. To the red man the GreatSpirit gave a different character. He gave him a love of the woods, of afree life, of hunting and fishing, of making war with his enemies andtaking scalps. The white man does not live like the Indian--it is nothis nature. Neither does the Indian love to live like the white man--theGreat Spirit did not make him so. 

"Father, --We do not wish to do anything contrary to the will of theGreat Spirit. If he had made us with white skins, and characters likethe white men, then we would send our children to this school to betaught like the white children. 

"Father, --We think that if the Great Spirit had wished us to be likethe whites, he would have made us so. As he has not seen fit to do so, we believe he would be displeased with us, to try and make ourselvesdifferent from what he thought good. 

"Father, --I have nothing more to say. This is what we think. If wechange our minds, we will let you know. "

It will be seen from these remarks of Day-kau-ray that the Indiansentertain a conviction that the Great Spirit himself teaches the whiteman the arts and sciences, and since he has given the red man noinstruction in these branches, it would be unbecoming in him to attemptto acquire them in an irregular manner. 

With little incidents of this kind, and with an occasional dinner- ortea-party to the young officers, sometimes given at the Major'squarters, sometimes at our own, our course of life passed pleasantly on. At times I would amuse myself by making something _very nice_, in theform of a fruit cake or pie, to send to the quarters of the youngofficers as a present, it being supposed that possibly, without a ladyto preside over their mess, it might be sometimes deficient in thesedelicacies. Mrs. Twiggs was so fortunate as to have well-trainedservants to do for her that which, thanks to my little dark handmaid, always fell to my share. 

One day I had made some mince pies, which the Major and my husbandgreatly approved, and I thought I would send one to each of the youngofficers. 

It happened that my husband, that day, in returning from superintendinghis men on the other side of the river, had occasion to call on someerrand at Captain Harney's quarters. 

Dinner had just been placed upon the table, and the Captain insisted onhis visitor's sitting down and partaking with him and another gentlemanwho was present. The pork and beans were pronounced excellent, and beingremoved there followed a mince pie. 

The Captain cut it, and helped his guests, then taking a piece himself, he commenced tasting it. Pushing back his plate with an exclamation anda sudden jerk, he called to his servant, a little thick-set mulatto whowaited--"David, you yellow rascal, how dare you put such a pie on mytable?" And, turning to the company apologetically, he said, --

"If there is anything on earth David _does_ understand, it is how tomake a mince pie, and here he has filled this with brandy, so we cannoteat a morsel of it!"

"Please, sir, " said David, modestly, "I did not make the pie--it is oneMrs. Kinzie sent as a present. "

The poor Captain was now in a predicament. He raved at himself, at thesame time conjuring my husband most earnestly not to tell me what amistake he had made--an injunction that was lost sight of as soon as thelatter returned to his home. As for the unlucky Captain, he did notventure to call on me again until he felt sure I had forgotten thecircumstance. 

CHAPTER XII. 

PREPARATIONS FOR A JOURNEY. 

Early in January the snow fell in great abundance. We had an unusualquantity at the Portage, but in "the diggings, " as the lead-miningcountry was called, it was of an unheard-of depth--five or six feet upona level. 

An express had been dispatched to Chicago by the officers to take ourletters, and bring back the mail from that place. A tough, hardysoldier, named Sulky, acted as messenger, and he had hitherto made lightof his burden or the length of the way, notwithstanding that his taskwas performed on foot with his pack upon his shoulders. But now Sulkyhad been absent some weeks, and we had given him up entirely, persuadedthat he must have perished with cold and starvation. 

At length he appeared, nearly blind from travelling in the snow. He hadlain by three weeks in an Indian lodge, the snow being too deep topermit him to journey. The account he gave put an end to the hopes I hadbegun to entertain of being able to visit our friends at Chicago in thecourse of this winter. 

We had, before the last heavy fall of snow, been forming plans to thateffect. Captain Harney had kindly commenced preparing some trains, orboxes placed on sledges, which it was thought would, when lined withbuffalo-skins, furnish a very comfortable kind of vehicle for thejourney; and I was still inclined to think a good, deep bed of snow overthe whole country no great obstacle to a sleigh-ride. The whole matterwas, however, cut short by the commanding officer, who from the firsthad violently opposed the scheme, declaring that he would order thesentinels to fire on us if we attempted to leave the fort. So, findingthe majority against us, we were obliged to yield. 

The arrival of sweet, lovely little Lizzie Twiggs, before January wasquite past, was an event that shed light and joy in at least twodwellings. It seemed as if she belonged to all of us, and as sheincreased in size and beauty it was hard to say who, among us all, wasmost proud of her. If we had ever felt any languid hours before, wecould have none now--she was the pet, the darling, the joint property ofboth households. 

Whatever regret I might have had, previous to this event, at the ideaof leaving my friend for the three weeks to which we proposed to limitour visit to Chicago, I felt now that she would scarcely miss me, andthat we might hold ourselves in readiness to take advantage of the firstimprovement in the weather, to put this favorite project in execution. 

During the latter part of February the cold became less severe. Thesnows melted away, and by the beginning of March the weather was so warmand genial, that we were quite confident of being able to make thejourney on horseback without any serious difficulty. 

Our plans once settled upon, the first thing to be provided was warm andcomfortable apparel. A riding-habit of stout broadcloth was pronouncedindispensable to my equipment. But of such an article I was destitute. Nothing among my wedding travelling gear seemed in any way to offer asubstitute. What was to be done? The requisite material was to be foundin abundance at the sutler's store (_the shantee_, as it was technicallytermed), but how to get it manufactured into a suitable garment was thequestion. 

The regimental tailor was summoned. He was cook to one of the companies, and there were at first some doubts whether he could be permitted toforsake the spit for the needle, during the time I should require hisservices. All his tailoring-work had, heretofore, been done at odd timeson a bench in the company kitchen, and thither he now proposed to carrythe riding-habit. I suggested that, in order to superintend the work, Ishould thus be driven to take up my abode for the time being in thebarracks, which would be a decided inconvenience. 

To remedy the difficulty, he was finally so happy as to find a soldierin "Company D, " who consented to officiate in his place as cook untilhis term of service to me should expire. 

Behold, then, a little, solemn-looking man in his stocking-feet, seatedcross-legged on an Indian mat by my parlor window. He had made all hisarrangements himself, and I deemed it wisest not to interfere with him. The cutting-out was the most difficult part, and, as he had never made alady's riding-habit, that task fell to my share. I was as great a noviceas himself, and I must admit that this, my first effort, was open tocriticism. But the little tailor was of a different opinion. He was inan ecstasy with our joint performance. 

"Upon my word, madam, " he would exclaim, surveying it with admiringeyes, "we shall have a very respectable garment!" I do not know how manytimes he repeated this during the three days that the work was inprogress. 

I believe he had not perfect confidence in the culinary powers of hiscomrade of "Company D, " for regularly a half-hour before beat of drumhis work was folded and laid aside, his snips gathered up, and, allthings being restored to order, he would slip out, resume his shoes, which, _Turk-like_, he had left outside the door, and speed over to thebarrack-kitchen to see how matters were going on. 

In the mean time, great preparations were making below, under thesupervision of our tidy, active little French servant, Mrs. Pillon, thewife of one of the _engagés_, by whom the irregular and unmanageableLouisa had been replaced. 

Biscuits were baked, a ham, some tongues, and sundry pieces of salt porkwere boiled, coffee roasted and ground, sugar cracked, isinglass cut inpieces of the size requisite for a pot of coffee. For the reception ofall these different articles cotton bags of different sizes had beenpreviously prepared. Large sacks of skin, called by the Canadians_porches_, were also provided to hold the more bulky provisions, for ourjourney was to be a long one. 

The distance from Fort Winnebago to Chicago was not very formidable, itis true, if the direct route were taken; but that we knew to beimpossible at this season of the year. The route by Kosh-ko-nong was outof the question; all the Indians being absent from their villages in thewinter, and the ice being now gone, we could have no means of crossingthe Rock River at that place. 

There remained therefore no alternative but to proceed south to Dixon, or, as it was then called, Ogie's Ferry, the only certain means ofcrossing this broad and rapid stream. This route being so much out ofour direct course that we could not hope to accomplish it in less thansix days, it was necessary to prepare accordingly. 

While the wardrobe and provisions were thus in preparation, arrangementswere also being made as to our retinue and mode of conveyance. 

Mr. Kinzie decided to take with him but two men: Plante and PierreRoy, --the former to act as guide, on the assurance that he knew everymile of the way, from the Portage to Ogie's Ferry, and from Ogie's Ferryto Chicago. 

The claims of the different saddle-horses were discussed, and the mosteligible one was selected for my use. We hesitated for a time between"Le Gris" and "Souris, " two much-vaunted animals, belonging to Paquette, the interpreter. At length, being determined, like most of my sex, by aregard for exterior, I chose "Le Gris, " and "Souris" was assigned toyoung Roy; my own little stumpy pony, "Brunet, " being pronounced justthe thing for a pack-saddle. My husband rode his own bay horse "Tom, "while Plante, the gayest and proudest of the party, bestrode a fine, large animal called "Jerry, " which had lately been purchased for my use;and thus was our _cortége_ complete. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

DEPARTURE FROM FORT WINNEBAGO. 

Having taken a tender leave of our friends, the morning of the 8th ofMarch saw us mounted and equipped for our journey. The weather wasfine--the streams, already fringed with green, were sparkling in thesun--everything gave promise of an early and genial season. In vain, when we reached the ferry at the foot of the hill on which the fortstood, did Major Twiggs repeat his endeavors to dissuade us fromcommencing a journey which he assured me would be perilous beyond what Icould anticipate. I was resolute. 

Our party was augmented by an escort of all the young officers, whopolitely insisted on accompanying us as far as Duck Creek, four milesdistant. Indeed, there were some who would gladly have prosecuted thewhole journey with us, and escaped the monotony of their solitary, uneventful life. In our rear followed an ox cart, on which was perched acanoe, destined to transport us over the creek, and also an extensivemarsh beyond it, which was invariably, at this season, overflowed withwater to a considerable depth. We had much amusement in watching theprogress of this vehicle as it bumped and thumped over the road, unconscious hitherto of the dignity of a wheeled carriage. 

Our little, shock-headed, sunburnt, thick-lipped Canadian (who happenedmost miraculously to be the husband of my pretty servant, Mrs. Pillon)shouted vociferously as the animals lagged in their pace, or joltedagainst a stump, "_Marchez, don-g_, " "_regardez_, " "_prenez garde_, " toour infinite diversion. I was in high spirits, foreseeing no hardshipsor dangers, but rather imagining myself embarked on a pleasure excursionacross the prairies. It had not even suggested itself to me that a strawbonnet and kid gloves were no suitable equipment for such an expedition. Never having travelled at so inclement a season, I was heedlesslyignorant of the mode of preparing against it, and had resisted orlaughed at my husband's suggestions to provide myself with blanketsocks, and a woollen _capuchon_ for my head and shoulders. And now, although the wind occasionally lifted my head-gear with a rude puff, andmy hands ere long became swollen and stiffened with the cold, Ipersuaded myself that these were trifling evils, to which I should soonget accustomed. I was too well pleased with the novelty of my outfit, with my hunting-knife in a gay scabbard hanging from my neck, and my tincup at my saddle-bow, to regard minor inconveniences. 

On reaching Duck Creek, we took leave of our young friends, who remainedon the bank long enough to witness our passage across--ourselves in thecanoe, and the poor horses swimming the stream, now filled with cakes offloating ice. 

Beyond the rising ground which formed the opposite bank of the stream, extended a marsh of perhaps three hundred yards across. To this the mencarried the canoe which was to bear us over. The water was not deep, soour attendants merely took off the pack from Brunet and my side-saddlefrom Le Gris, for fear of accidents, and then mounted their own steeds, leading the two extra ones. My husband placed the furniture of thepack-horse and my saddle in the centre of the canoe, which he was topaddle across. 

"Now, wifie, " said he, "jump in, and seat yourself flat in the bottom ofthe canoe. "

"Oh, no, " said I; "I will sit on the little trunk in the centre; I shallbe so much more comfortable, and I can balance the canoe exactly. "

"As you please; but I think you will find it is not the best way. "

A vigorous push sent us a few feet from the bank. At that instant twofavorite greyhounds whom we had brought with us, and who had stoodwhining upon the bank, reluctant to take to the water as they wereordered, gave a sudden bound, and alighted full upon me. The canoebalanced a moment--then yielded--and, quick as thought, dogs, furniture, and lady were in the deepest of the water. 

My husband, who was just preparing to spring into the canoe when thedogs thus unceremoniously took precedence of him, was at my side in amoment, and, seizing me by the collar of my cloak, begged me not to befrightened. I was not, in the least, and only laughed as he raised andplaced me again upon the bank. 

The unfortunate saddle and little trunk were then rescued, but not untilthey had received a pretty thorough wetting. Our merriment was stillfurther increased by the sight of the maladroit Pillon, who wasattempting to ride my spirited Jerry across the marsh. He was clingingto the neck of the animal, with a countenance distorted with terror, ashe shouted forth all manner of French objurgations. Jerry pranced andcurveted, and finally shot forward his rider, or rather his _burden_, headforemost, a distance of several feet into the water. 

A general outcry of mirth saluted the unfortunate Frenchman, which wasredoubled as he raised himself puffing and snorting from his watery bedand waddled back to his starting-place, the horse, meanwhile, verysensibly making his way to join his companions, who had already reachedthe farther bank. 

"Well, wifie, " said Mr. Kinzie, "I cannot trust you in the canoe again. There is no way but to carry you across the marsh like a pappoose. Willyou take a ride on my shoulders?"

"With all my heart, if you will promise to take me safely. " And I wassoon mounted. 

I most confess that the gentleman staggered now and then under hisburden, which was no slight one, and I was sadly afraid, more than once, that I should meet a similar fate to old Pillon, but happily we reachedthe other side in safety. 

There my husband insisted on my putting on dry shoes and stockings, and(must I confess it?) drinking a little brandy, to obviate the effects ofmy icy bath. He would fain have made a halt to kindle a fire and dry myapparel and wardrobe properly, but this I would not listen to. Iendeavored to prove to him that the delay would expose me to more coldthan riding in my wet habit and cloak, and so indeed it might have been, but along with my convictions upon the subject there was mingled a spiceof reluctance that our friends at the fort should have an opportunity, as they certainly would have done, of laughing at our inauspiciouscommencement. 

Soon our horses were put in order, and our march recommenced. The daywas fine for the season. I felt no inconvenience from my wet garments, the exercise of riding taking away all feeling of chilliness. It was tome a new mode of travelling, and I enjoyed it the more from having beensecluded for more than five months within the walls of the fort, scarcely varying the tenor of our lives by an occasional walk of half amile into the surrounding woods. 

We had still another detention upon the road, from meeting Lapierre, theblacksmith, from Sugar Creek, who with one of his associates was goingto the Portage for supplies, so that we had not travelled more thantwenty-three miles when we came to our proposed encamping-ground. It wasupon a beautiful stream, a tributary of one of the Four Lakes, [14] thatchain whose banks are unrivalled for romantic loveliness. 

I could not but admire the sagacity of the horses, who seemed, withhuman intelligence, to divine our approach to the spot where their toilswere to cease. While still remote from the point of woods which foretolda halt, they pricked up their ears, accelerated their pace, and finallyarrived at the spot on a full gallop. 

We alighted at an open space, just within the verge of the wood, or, asit is called by Western travellers, "the timber. " My husband recommendedto me to walk about until a fire should be made, which was soonaccomplished by our active and experienced woodsmen, to whom the fellingof a large tree was the work of a very few minutes. The dry grass aroundfurnished an excellent tinder, which, ignited by the sparks from theflint (there were no _loco-focos_ in those days), and aided by thebroken branches and bits of light-wood, soon produced a cheering flame. "The bourgeois, " in the mean time, busied himself in setting up thetent, taking care to place it opposite the fire, but in such a directionthat the wind would carry the smoke and flame away from the opening ordoor. Within upon the ground were spread, first a bear-skin, then twoor three blankets (of which each equestrian had carried two, one underthe saddle and one above it), after which, the remainder of the luggagebeing brought in, I was able to divest myself of all my wet clothing andreplace it with dry. Some idea of the state of the thermometer may beformed from the fact that my riding-habit, being placed over the end ofthe huge log against which our fire was made, was, in a very fewminutes, frozen so stiff as to stand upright, giving the appearance of adress out of which a lady had vanished in some unaccountable manner. 

It would be but a repetition of our experience upon the Fox River todescribe the ham broiled upon the "broches, " the toasted bread, thesteaming coffee, the primitive table-furniture. There is, however, thisdifference, that of the latter we carry with us in our journeys onhorseback only a coffee-pot, a tea-kettle, and each rider his tin cupand hunting-knife. The deportment at table is marked by an absence ofceremony. The knife is drawn from the scabbard--those who remember to doso, vouchsafe it a wipe upon the napkin. Its first office is to stir thecup of coffee--next, to divide the piece of ham which is placed on thehalf of a travelling biscuit, held in the left hand, to fulfil theoffice of a plate. It is an art only to be acquired by long practice, tocut the meat so skilfully as not at the same time to destroy the dish. 

We take our places around the mat to enjoy what, after our fatiguingride, we find delicious food. The Frenchmen are seated at a littledistance, receiving their supplies of coffee, meat, and bread, andoccasionally passing jokes with the bourgeois, who is their demi-god, and for whom their respect and devotion are never lessened by hisaffability or condescension. 

The meal being finished, the table-furniture is rinsed in hot water andset aside until morning. A wisp of dry prairie-grass is supposed in mostcases to render the knife fit to be restored to the scabbard, and therebeing, at this season of the year, no amusement but that of watching theawkward movements of the spancelled horses in their progress from spotto spot in search of pasturage, we are usually soon disposed to arrangeour blankets and retire to rest. 

At break of day we are aroused by the shout of the bourgeois, --

"How! how! how!"

All start from their slumbers. The fire, which has been occasionallyreplenished through the night, is soon kindled into a flame. The horsesare caught and saddled, while a breakfast, similar in kind to the mealof the preceding evening, is preparing--the tent is struck--thepack-horse loaded--"_tout démanché_, " as the Canadian says. Thebreakfast finished, we rinse our kettles and cups, tie them to oursaddle-bows, and then mount and away, leaving our fire, or rather oursmoke, to tell of our visit. 

March 9th. --Our journey this day led us past the first of the FourLakes. Scattered along its banks was an encampment of Winnebagoes. Theygreeted their Father with vociferous joy--"_Bon-jour, bon-jour, Shaw-nee-aw-kee_, " "_Hee-nee-kar-ray-kay-noo?_" (how do you do?)

To this succeeded the usual announcement, "_Wys-kap-rahtshoonsh-koo-nee-noh!_" (I have no bread. )

This is their form of begging; but we could not afford to be generous, for the uncertainty of obtaining a supply, should our own be exhausted, obliged us to observe the strictest economy. 

How beautiful the entrapment looked in the morning sun! The mattedlodges, with the blue smoke curling from their tops--the trees andbushes powdered with a light snow which had fallen through thenight--the lake, shining and sparkling, almost at our feet--even theIndians, in their peculiar costume, adding to the picturesque!

I was sorry to leave it, as we were compelled to do, in all haste, Souris, the pack-horse, having taken it into his head to decamp while wewere in conversation with our red friends. As he had, very sensibly, concluded to pursue his journey in the right direction, we had the goodfortune to overtake him after a short race, and, having received muchscolding and some blows from young Roy, whose charge he specially was, he was placed in the middle of the cavalcade, as a mark of disgrace forhis breach of duty. 

Our road, after leaving the lake, lay over a "rolling prairie, " now bareand desolate enough. The hollows were filled with snow, which, beingpartly thawed, furnished an uncertain footing for the horses, and Icould not but join in the ringing laughter of oar Frenchmen asoccasionally Brunet and Souris, the two ponies, would flounder, almostimbedded, through the yielding mass. Even the vainglorious Plante, whopiqued himself on his equestrian skill, was once or twice nearlyunhorsed, from having chosen his road badly. Sometimes the elevationswere covered with a thicket or copse, in which our dogs would generallyrouse up one or more deer. Their first bound, or "lope, " was the signalfor a chase. The horses seemed to enter into the spirit of it, as"halloo" answered "halloo;" but we were never so fortunate as to get ashot at one, for although the dogs once or twice caught they were notstrong enough to hold them. It was about the middle of the afternoonwhen we reached the Blue Mound. I rejoiced much to have got so far, forI was sadly fatigued, and every mile now seemed like two to me. In fact, the miles are unconscionably long in this country. When I was told thatwe had still seven miles to go, to "Morrison's, " where we proposedstopping for the night, I was almost in despair. It was my first journeyon horseback, and I had not yet become inured to the exercise. 

When we reached Morrison's I was so much exhausted that, as my husbandattempted to lift me from the saddle, I fell into his arms. 

"This will never do, " said he. "To-morrow we must turn our faces towardsFort Winnebago again. "

The door opened hospitably to receive us. We were welcomed by a ladywith a most sweet, benignant countenance, and by her companion, someyears younger. The first was Mrs. Morrison--the other, Miss ElizabethDodge, daughter of General Dodge. 

My husband laid me upon a small bed, in the room where the ladies hadbeen sitting at work. They took off my bonnet and riding-dress, chafedmy hands, and prepared me some warm wine and water, by which I was soonrevived. A half-hour's repose so refreshed me that I was able toconverse with the ladies, and to relieve my husband's mind of allanxiety on my account. Tea was announced soon after, and we repaired toan adjoining building, for Morrison's, like the establishment of allsettlers of that period, consisted of a group of detached log houses or_cabins_, each containing one or at most two apartments. 

The table groaned with good cheer, and brought to mind some that I hadseen among the old-fashioned Dutch residents on the banks of the Hudson. 

I had recovered my spirits, and we were quite a cheerful party. Mrs. Morrison told us that during the first eighteen months she passed inthis country she did not speak with a white woman, the only society shehad being that of her husband and two black servant-women. 

A Tennessee woman had called in with her little son just before tea, and we amused Mr. Kinzie with a description of the pair. The mother'svisit was simply one of courtesy. She was a little, dumpy woman, with acomplexion burned perfectly red by the sun, and hair of an exacttow-color, braided up from her forehead in front and from her neckbehind. These tails, meeting on the top of her head, were fastened witha small tin comb. Her dress was of checkered homespun, a "very tightfit, " and, as she wore no ruff or handkerchief around her neck, shelooked as if just prepared for execution. She was evidently awestruck atthe sight of visitors, and seemed inclined to take her departure atonce; but the boy, not so easily intimidated, would not understand hersigns and pinches until he had sidled up to Mrs. Morrison, and, drawinghis old hat still farther over his eyes, begged for a _whang_, meaning anarrow strip of deer-skin. The lady very obligingly cut one from a largesmoked skin, which she produced from its receptacle, and mother and sontook their leave, with a smiling but rather a scared look. 

After tea we returned to Mrs. Morrison's parlor, where she kindlyinsisted on my again reposing myself on the little bed, to recruit me, as she said, for the ensuing day's journey. My husband, in the meantime, went to look after the accommodation of his men and horses. 

During the conversation that ensued, I learned that Mrs. Morrison hadpassed much time in the neighborhood of my recent home in Oneida County, that many of the friends I had loved and valued were likewise herfriends, and that she had even proposed to visit me at Fort Winnebago onhearing of my arrival there, in order to commence an acquaintance whichhad thus been brought about by other and unexpected means. 

Long and pleasant was the discourse we held together until a late hour, and mutual was the satisfaction with which we passed old friends andby-gone events in review, much to the edification of Miss Dodge, and ofthe gentlemen when they once more joined us. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

WILLIAM S. HAMILTON--KELLOGG'S GROVE. 

The next morning, after a cheerful breakfast, at which we were joined bythe Rev. Mr. Kent, of Galena, we prepared for our journey. I hadreconciled my husband to continuing our route towards Chicago, byassuring him that I felt as fresh and bright as when I first set outfrom home. 

There seemed some apprehension, however, that we might have difficultyin "striking the trail" to Hamilton's _diggings_, our next point ofdestination. 

The directions we received were certainly obscure. We were to pursue agiven trail for a certain number of miles, when we should come to acrossing into which we were to turn, taking an easterly direction; aftera time, this would bring us to a deep trail leading straight toHamilton's. In this open country there are no landmarks. One elevationis so exactly like another, that if you lose your trail there is almostas little hope of regaining it as of finding a pathway in the midst ofthe ocean. [15]

The trail, it must be remembered, is not a broad highway, but a narrowpath, deeply indented by the hoofs of the horses on which the Indianstravel in single file. So deeply is it sunk in the sod which covers theprairies, that it is difficult, sometimes, to distinguish it at adistance of a few rods. 

It was new ground to Mr. Kinzie, whose journeys from the Portage toChicago had hitherto been made in the direct route by Kosh-ko-nong. Hetherefore obliged Mr. Morrison to repeat the directions again and again, though Plante, our guide, swaggered and talked big, averring that "heknew every hill and stream and point of woods from that spot toChicago. "

We had not proceeded many miles on our journey, however, before wediscovered that Monsieur Plante was profoundly ignorant of the country, so that Mr. Kinzie was obliged to take the lead himself, and make hisway as he was best able, according to the directions he had received. Nothing, however, like the "cross trails" we had been promised met ourview, and the path on which we had set out diverged so much from what weknew to be the right direction, that we were at length compelled toabandon it altogether. 

We travelled the livelong day, barely making a halt at noon to bait ourhorses and refresh ourselves with a luncheon. The ride was as gloomy anddesolate as could well be imagined. A rolling prairie, unvaried byforest or stream--hillock rising after hillock, at every ascent of whichwe vainly hoped to see a distant fringe of "_timber_. " But the samecheerless, unbounded prospect everywhere met the eye, diversified onlyhere and there by the oblong openings, like gigantic graves, whichmarked an unsuccessful search for indications of a lead-mine. 

So great was our anxiety to recover our trail, for the weather wasgrowing more cold, and the wind more sharp and piercing, that we werenot tempted to turn from our course even by the appearance, more thanonce, of a gaunt prairie-wolf, peering over the nearest rising-groundand seeming to dare us to an encounter. The Frenchmen, it is true, wouldinstinctively give a shout and spur on their horses, while the hounds, Kelda and Cora, would rush to the chase; but the bourgeois soon calledthem back, with a warning that we must attend strictly to theprosecution of our journey. Just before sunset we crossed, with somedifficulty, a muddy stream, which was bordered by a scanty belt oftrees, making a tolerable encamping-ground; and of this we gladlyavailed ourselves, although we knew not whether it was near or remotefrom the place we were in search of. 

We had ridden at least fifty miles since leaving Morrison's, yet I wassensible of very little fatigue; there was, however, a vague feeling ofdiscomfort at the idea of being lost in this wild, cold region, altogether different from anything I had ever before experienced. Theencouraging tones of my husband's voice, however, "Cheer up, wifie--wewill find the trail to-morrow, " served to dissipate all uneasiness. 

The exertions of the men soon made our "camp" comfortable, notwithstanding the difficulty of driving the tent-pins into the frozenground, and the want of trees sufficiently large to make a _rousing_fire. The place was a _stony side-hill, _ as it would be called in NewEngland, where such things abound; but we were not disposed to befastidious, so we ate our salt ham and toasted our bread, and lent apleased ear to the chatter of our Frenchmen, who could not sufficientlyadmire the heroism of "Madame John" amid the vicissitudes that befellher. 

The wind, which at bed-time was sufficiently high to be uncomfortable, increased during the night. It snowed heavily, and we were every momentin dread that the tent would be carried away; but the matter was settleddifferently by the snapping of the poles, and the falling of the whole, with its superincumbent weight of snow, in a mass upon us. 

Mr. Kinzie roused up his men, and at their head he sallied into theneighboring wood to cut a new set of poles, leaving me to bear theburden of the whole upon my shoulders, my only safety from the stormbeing to keep snugly housed beneath the canvas. 

With some difficulty a sort of support was at length adjusted for thetent-covering, which answered our purpose tolerably well until the breakof day, when our damp and miserable condition made us very glad to riseand hang round the fire until breakfast was dispatched, and the horsesonce more saddled for our journey. 

The prospect was not an encouraging one. Around us was an unbroken sheetof snow. We had no compass, and the air was so obscured by the drivingsleet, that it was often impossible to tell in which direction the sunwas. I tied my husband's silk pocket-handkerchief over my veil, toprotect my face from the wind and icy particles with which the air wasfilled, and which cut like a razor; but, although shielded in every waythat circumstances rendered possible, I suffered intensely from thecold. 

We pursued our way, mile after mile, entering every point of woods, inhopes of meeting with, at least, some Indian wigwam at which we couldgain intelligence. Every spot was solitary and deserted; not even thetrace of a recent fire, to cheer us with the hope of human beings withinmiles of us. 

Suddenly, a shout from the foremost of the party made each heart boundwith joy. 

"_Une clôture! une clôture!_" (A fence! a fence!)

It was almost like life to the dead. 

We spurred on, and indeed perceived a few straggling rails crowning arising ground at no great distance. 

Never did music sound so sweet as the crowing of a cock which at thismoment saluted our ears. 

Following the course of the inclosure down the opposite slope, we cameupon a group of log cabins, low, shabby, and unpromising in theirappearance, but a most welcome shelter from the pelting storm. 

"Whose cabins are these?" asked Mr. Kinzie, of a man who was cuttingwood at the door of one. 

"Hamilton's, " was his reply; and he stepped forward at once to assist usto alight, hospitality being a matter of course in these wild regions. 

We were shown into the most comfortable-looking of the buildings. Alarge fire was burning in the clay chimney, and the room was of a genialwarmth, notwithstanding the apertures, many inches in width, beside thedoors and windows. A woman in a tidy calico dress, and shabby black silkcap trimmed with still shabbier lace, rose from her seat beside a sortof bread-trough, which fulfilled the office of cradle to a fine, fatbaby. She made room for us at the fire, but was either too timid or tooignorant to relieve me of wrappings and defences, now heavy with thesnow. 

I soon contrived, with my husband's aid, to disembarrass myself of them;and, having seen me comfortably disposed of, and in a fair way to bethawed after my freezing ride, he left me, to see after his men andhorses. 

He was a long time absent, and I expected he would return accompanied byour host; but when he reappeared it was to tell me, laughing, that Mr. Hamilton hesitated to present himself before me, being unwilling thatone who had been acquainted with his family at the East should see himin his present mode of life. However, this feeling apparently wore off, for before dinner he came in and was introduced to me, and was asagreeable and polite as the son of Alexander Hamilton would naturallybe. 

The housekeeper, who was the wife of one of the miners, prepared us aplain, comfortable dinner, and a table as long as the dimensions of thecabin would admit was set out, the end nearest the fire being coveredwith somewhat nicer furniture and more delicate fare than the remainingportion. 

The blowing of a horn was the signal for the entrance of ten or twelveminers, who took their places below us at the table. They were theroughest-looking set of men I ever beheld, and their language was asuncouth as their persons. They wore hunting-shirts, trowsers, andmoccasins of deer-skin, the former being ornamented at the seams with afringe of the same, while a colored belt around the waist, in which wasstuck a large hunting-knife, gave each the appearance of a brigand. 

Mr. Hamilton, although so much their superior, was addressed by themuniformly as "Uncle Billy;" and I could not but fancy there wassomething desperate about them, that it was necessary to propitiate bythis familiarity. This feeling was further confirmed by the remarks ofone of the company who lingered behind after the rest of the _gang_ hadtaken their departure. He had learned that we came from Fort Winnebago, and, having informed us that "he was a discharged soldier, and wouldlike to make some inquiries about his old station and comrades, " heunceremoniously seated himself and commenced questioning us. 

The bitterness with which he spoke of his former officers made me quitesure he was a deserter, and I rather suspected he had made his escapefrom the service in consequence of some punishment. His countenance wasfairly distorted as he spoke of Captain H. , to whose company he hadbelonged. "There is a man in the mines, " said he, "who has been in hishands, and if he ever gets a chance to come within shot of him, I guessthe captain will remember it. He knows well enough he darsn't set hisfoot in the diggings. And there's T. Is not much better. Everybodythought it a great pity that fellow's gun snapped when he so nearly_had_ him at Green Bay. "

Having delivered himself of these sentiments, he marched out, to mygreat relief. 

Mr. Hamilton passed most of the afternoon with us; for the storm ragedso without, that to proceed on our journey was out of the question. Hegave us many pleasant anecdotes and reminiscences of his early life inNew York, and of his adventures since he had come to the Westernwilderness. When obliged to leave us for awhile, he furnished us withsome books to entertain us, the most interesting of which was thebiography of his father. 

Could this illustrious man have foreseen in what a scene--the dwellingof his son--this book was to be one day perused, what would have beenhis sensations?

The most amusing part of our experience was yet to come. I had beenspeculating, as evening approached, on our prospects for the night'saccommodation. As our pale, melancholy-looking landlady and her fat babywere evidently the only specimens of the feminine gender about theestablishment, it was hardly reasonable to suppose that any of the othercabins contained wherewithal to furnish us a comfortable lodging, andthe one in which we were offered nothing of the sort to view, but twobeds, uncurtained, extended against the farther wall. My doubts wereafter a time resolved, by observing the hostess stretch a cord betweenthe two, on which she hung some petticoats and extra garments, by wayof a partition, after which she invited us to occupy one of them. 

My only preparation was, to wrap my cloak around me and lie down with myface to the wall; but the good people were less ceremonious, for at thedistance of scarcely two feet, we could not be mistaken in the sound oftheir garments being, not "laid aside, " but whipped over thepartition-wall between us. 

Our waking thoughts, however, were only those of thankfulness for socomfortable a lodging after the trials and fatigues we had undergone;and even these were of short duration, for our eyes were soon closed inslumber. 

The next day's sun rose clear and bright. Refreshed and invigorated, welooked forward with pleasure to a recommencement of our journey, confident of meeting no more mishaps by the way. Mr. Hamilton kindlyoffered to accompany us to his next neighbor's, the trifling distance oftwenty-five miles. From Kellogg's to Ogie's Ferry, on the Rock River, the road being much travelled, we should be in no danger, Mr. H. Said, of again losing our way. 

The miner who owned the wife and baby, and who, consequently, wassomewhat more humanized than his comrades, in taking leave of us "wishedus well out of the country, and that we might never have occasion toreturn to it!"

"I pity a body, " said he, "when I see them making such an awful mistakeas to come out this way; for comfort _never touched_ this Westerncountry. "

We found Mr. Hamilton as agreeable a companion as on the preceding day, but a most desperate rider. He galloped on at such a rate that, had Inot exchanged my pony for the fine, noble Jerry, I should have been indanger of being left behind. 

Well mounted as we all were, he sometimes nearly distanced us. We werenow among the branches of the Pickatonick, and the country had lost itsprairie character and become rough and broken. We went dashing on, sometimes down ravines, sometimes through narrow passes, where, as Ifollowed, I left fragments of my veil upon the projecting and interwovenbranches. Once my hat became entangled, and, had not my husband sprungto my rescue, I must have shared the fate of Absalom, Jerry's ambitionto keep his place in the race making it probable he would do as did themule who was under the unfortunate prince. 

There was no halting upon the route, and, as we kept the same pace untilthree o'clock in the afternoon, it was beyond a question that when wereached "Kellogg's" we had travelled at least thirty miles. One of mygreatest annoyances during the ride had been the behavior of the littlebeast Brunet. He had been hitherto used as a saddle-horse, and had beenaccustomed to a station in the file near the guide or leader. He did notrelish being put in the background as a pack-horse, and accordingly, whenever we approached a stream, where the file broke up to permit eachhorseman to choose his own place of fording, it was, invariably the casethat just as I was reining Jerry into the water, Brunet would comerushing past and throw himself into our very footsteps. Plunging, snorting, and splashing me with water, and sometimes even starting Jerryinto a leap aside, he more than once brought me into imminent danger ofbeing tossed into the stream. It was in vain that, after one or two suchadventures, I learned to hold back and give the vexatious little animalthe precedence. His passion seemed to be to go into the water preciselyat the moment Jerry did; and I was obliged at last to make a bargainwith young Roy to dismount and hold him at every stream until I had gotsafely across. 

"Kellogg's"[16] was a comfortable mansion, just within the verge of apleasant "grove of timber, " as a small forest is called by Westerntravellers. We found Mrs. Kellogg a very respectable-looking matron, whosoon informed us she was from the city of New York. She appeared proudand delighted to entertain Mr. Hamilton, for whose family, she tookoccasion to tell us, she had, in former days, been in the habit of doingneedle-work. 

The worthy woman provided us an excellent dinner, and afterwardsinstalled me in a rocking-chair beside a large fire, with the "Life ofMrs. Fletcher" to entertain me, while the gentlemen explored thepremises, visited Mr. Kellogg's stock, and took a careful look at theirown. We had intended to go to Dixon's the same afternoon, but the snow, beginning again to fall, obliged us to content ourselves where we were. 

In the mean time, finding we were journeying to Chicago, Mr. Kelloggcame to the determination to accompany us, having, as he said, somebusiness to accomplish at that place: so Mrs. Kellogg busied herself inpreparing him to set off with us the following morning. I pleaded hardto remain yet another day, as the following was Sunday, on which Iobjected to travel; but in view of the necessities of the case, theuncertainty of the weather, and the importance of getting as quickly aspossible through this wild country, my objections were overruled, and Icould only obtain a delay in starting until so late in the afternoon aswould give us just time to ride the sixteen miles to "Dixon's" beforesunset. 

No great time was required for Mr. Kellogg's preparations. He wouldtake, he said, only two days' provisions, for at his brother-in-lawDixon's we should get our supper and breakfast, and the route from thereto Chicago could, he well knew, be accomplished in a day and a half. 

Although, according to this calculation, we had sufficient remaining ofour stores to carry us to the end of our journey, yet my husband tookthe precaution of begging Mrs. Kellogg to bake us another bag ofbiscuits, in case of accidents, and he likewise suggested to Mr. Kelloggthe prudence of furnishing himself with something more than his limitedallowance; but the good man objected that he was unwilling to burden hishorse more than was absolutely necessary, seeing that, at this season ofthe year, we were obliged to carry fodder for the animals, in additionto the rest of their load. It will be seen that we had reason to rejoicein our own foresight. 

My experience of the previous night had rendered me somewhat lessfastidious than when I commenced my journey, so that, when introduced toour sleeping-apartment, which I found we were to share with six men, travellers like ourselves, my only feeling was one of thankfulness thateach bed was furnished with a full suit of blue checked curtains, whichformed a very tolerable substitute for a dressing-room. 

CHAPTER XV. 

ROCK RIVER--HOURS OF TROUBLE. 

It was late on the following day (March 13th) when we took leave of ourkind hostess. She loaded us with cakes, good wishes, and messages to hersister Dixon and the children. We journeyed pleasantly along through acountry beautiful in spite of its wintry appearance. 

There was a house at Buffalo Grove, at which we stopped for half anhour, and where a nice-looking young girl presented us with somemaple-sugar of her own making. She entertained us with the history of acontest between two rival claimants for the patronage of thestage-wagon, the proprietors of which had not decided whether to send itby Buffalo Grove or by another route, which she pointed out to us, at nogreat distance. The _driver_, she took care to inform us, was in favorof the former; and the blush with which she replied in the affirmativeto our inquiry, "Is he a young man?" explained the whole mattersatisfactorily. 

At length, just at sunset, we reached the dark, rapid waters of the RockRiver. The ferry which we had travelled so far out of our way to takeadvantage of, proved to be merely a small boat or skiff, the larger onehaving been swept off into the stream, and carried down in thebreaking-up of the ice, the week previous. 

My husband's first care was to get me across. He placed me with thesaddles, packs, etc. In the boat, and as, at that late hour, no time wasto be lost, he ventured, at the same time, to hold the bridles of thetwo most docile horses, to guide them in swimming the river. 

When we had proceeded a few rods from the shore, we were startled by aloud puffing and blowing near us, and looking around, to our greatsurprise, discovered little Brunet just upon our "weather-bow. "Determined not to be outdone by his model, Jerry, he had taken to thewater on his own responsibility, and arrived at the opposite shore assoon as any of the party. 

All being safely landed, a short walk brought us to the house of Mr. Dixon. Although so recently come into the country, he had contrived tomake everything comfortable around him; and when he ushered us into Mrs. Dixon's sitting-room, and seated us by a glowing wood fire, while Mrs. Dixon busied herself in preparing us a nice supper, I felt that thecomfort overbalanced the inconvenience of such a journey. 

Mrs. Dixon was surrounded by several children. One leaning against thechimney-piece was dressed in the full Indian costume--calico shirt, blanket, and leggings. His dark complexion, and full, melancholy eyes, which he kept fixed upon the ashes in which he was making marks with astick, rarely raising them to gaze on us, as children are wont to do, interested me exceedingly, and I inquired of an intelligent little girl, evidently a daughter of our host, --

"Who is that boy?"

"Oh, that is John Ogie, " answered she. 

"What is the matter with him? he looks very sad. "

"Oh, he is fretting after his mother. "

"Is she dead, then?"

"Some say she is dead, and some say she is gone away. I guess she isdead, and buried up in one of those graves yonder"--pointing to two orthree little picketed inclosures upon a rising ground opposite thewindow. 

I felt a strong sympathy with the child, which was increased when thelittle spokeswoman, in answer to my inquiry, "Has he no father?"replied, --

"Oh, yes, but he goes away, and drinks, and don't care for hischildren. "

"And what becomes of John then?"

"He stays here with us, and we teach him to read, and he learns_dreadful_ fast. "

When the boy at length turned his large dark eyes upon me, it went to myheart. It was such a _motherless_ look. And it was explained when, longafterwards, I learned his further history. His mother was still living, and he knew it, although, with the reserve peculiar to his people, henever spoke of her to his young companions. Unable to endure thecontinued ill treatment of her husband, a surly, intemperate Canadian, she had left him, and returned to her own family among thePottowattamies. Years after, this boy and a brother who had also beenleft behind with their father found their way to the Upper Missouri, tojoin their mother, who, with the others of her tribe, had been removedby the Government from the shores of Lake Michigan. 

A most savory supper of ducks and venison, with their accompaniments, soon smoked upon the board, and we did ample justice to it. Travellingis a great sharpener of the appetite, and so is cheerfulness; and thelatter was increased by the encouraging account Mr. Dixon gave us of theremainder of the route yet before us. 

"There is no difficulty, " said he, "if you keep a little to the north, and strike the great _Sauk trail_. If you get too far to the south, youwill come upon the Winnebago Swamp, and, once in that, there is notelling when you will ever get out again. As for the distance, it isnothing at all to speak of. Two young men came out here from Chicago, on foot, last fall. They got here the evening of the second day; and, even with a lady in your party, you could go on horseback in less timethan that. The only thing is to be sure and get on the great track thatthe Sauks have made, in going every year from the Mississippi to Canada, to receive their presents from the British Indian Agent. "

The following morning, which was a bright and lovely one for that seasonof the year, we took leave of Mr. And Mrs. Dixon, in high spirits. Wetravelled for the first few miles along the beautiful, undulating banksof the Rock River, always in an easterly direction, keeping the beatenpath, or rather road, which led to Fort Clark, or Peoria. The Sauktrail, we had been told, would cross this road at the distance of aboutsix miles. 

After having travelled, as we judged, fully that distance, we came upona trail bearing northeast, and a consultation was held as to theprobability of its being the one we were in search of. 

Mr. Kinzie was of opinion that it tended too much to the north, and was, moreover, too faint and obscure for a trail so much used, and by solarge a body of Indians in their annual journeys. 

Plante was positive as to its being the very spot where he and "Piché"in their journey to Port Winnebago, the year before, struck into thegreat road. "On that very rising-ground at the point of woods, heremembered perfectly well stopping to shoot ducks, which they ate fortheir supper. "

Mr. Kellogg was non-committal, but sided alternately with each speaker. 

As Plante was "the guide, " and withal so confident of being right, itwas decided to follow him, not without some demurring, however, on thepart of the bourgeois, who every now and then called to halt, todiscuss the state of affairs. 

"Now, Plante, " he would say, "I am sure you are leading us too farnorth. Why, man, if we keep on in this direction, following the courseof the river, we shall bring up at Kosh-ko-nong, instead of Chicago. "

"Ah! mon bourgeois, " would the light-hearted Canadian reply, "would Itell you this is the road if I were not quite certain? Only one year agoI travelled it, and can I forget so soon? Oh, no--I remember every footof it. "

But Monsieur Plante was convinced of his mistake when the trail broughtus to the great bend of the river with its bold rocky bluffs. 

"Are you satisfied now, Plante?" asked Mr. Kinzie. "By your leave, Iwill now play pilot myself. " And he struck off from the trail, in adirection as nearly east as possible. 

The weather had changed and become intensely cold, and we felt that thedetention we had met with, even should we now be in the right road, wasno trifling matter. We had not added to our stock of provisions atDixon's, wishing to carry as much forage as we were able for our horses, for whom the scanty picking around our encamping-grounds afforded aninsufficient meal. But we were buoyed up by the hope that we were in theright path at last, and we journeyed on until night, when we reached acomfortable "encampment, " in the edge of a grove near a small stream. 

Oh, how bitterly cold that night was! The salted provisions, to which Iwas accustomed, occasioned me an intolerable thirst, and my husband wasin the habit of placing the little tin coffee-pot filled with water atmy bed's head when we went to rest, but this night it was frozen solidlong before midnight. We were so well wrapped up in blankets that wedid not suffer from cold while within the tent, but the open air wassevere in the extreme. 

March 15th. --We were roused by the bourgeois at peep of day to makepreparations for starting. We must find the Sauk trail this day at allhazards. What would become of us should we fail to do so? It was aquestion no one liked to ask, and certainly one that none could haveanswered. 

On leaving our encampment, we found ourselves entering a marshy tract ofcountry. Myriads of wild geese, brant, and ducks rose up screaming atour approach. The more distant lakes and ponds were black with them, butthe shallow water through which we attempted to make our way was frozen, by the severity of the night, to a thickness not quite sufficient tobear the horses, but just such as to cut their feet and ankles at everystep as they broke through it. Sometimes the difficulty of going forwardwas so great that we were obliged to retrace our steps and make our wayround the head of the marsh, thus adding to the discomforts of oursituation by the conviction that, while journeying diligently, we were, in fact, making very little progress. 

This swampy region at length passed, we came upon more solid ground, chiefly the open prairie. But now a new trouble assailed us. The weatherhad moderated, and a blinding snow-storm came on. Without a trail thatwe could rely upon, and destitute of a compass, our only dependence hadbeen the sun to point out our direction; but the atmosphere was now soobscure that it was impossible to tell in what quarter of the heavens hewas. 

We pursued our way, however, and a devious one it must have been. Aftertravelling in this way many miles, we came upon an Indian trail, deeplyindented, running at right angles with the course we were pursuing. Thesnow had ceased, and, the clouds becoming thinner, we were able toobserve the direction of the sun, and to perceive that the trail rannorth and south. What should we do? Was it safest to pursue our easterlycourse, or was it probable that by following this new path we shouldfall into the direct one we had been so long seeking? If we decided totake the trail, should we go north or south? Mr. Kinzie was for thelatter. He was of opinion we were still too far north--somewhere aboutthe Grand Marais, or Kish-wau-kee. Mr. Kellogg and Plante were fortaking the northerly direction. The latter was positive his bourgeoishad already gone too far south--in fact, that we must now be in theneighborhood of the Illinois River. Finding himself in the minority, myhusband yielded, and we turned our horses' heads north, much against hiswill. After proceeding a few miles, however, he took a suddendetermination. "You may go north, if you please, " said he, "but I amconvinced that the other course is right, and I shall face about--followwho will. "

So we wheeled round and rode south again, and many a long and weary miledid we travel, the monotony of our ride broken only by the querulousremarks of poor Mr. Kellogg. "I am really afraid we are wrong, Mr. Kinzie. I feel pretty sure that the young man is right. It looks mostnatural to me that we should take a northerly course, and not bestretching away so far to the south. "

To all this, Mr. Kinzie turned a deaf ear. The Frenchmen rode insilence. They would as soon have thought of cutting off their right handas showing opposition to the bourgeois when he had once expressed hisdecision. They would never have dreamed of offering an opinion or remarkunless called upon to do so. 

The road, which had continued many miles through the prairie, atlength, in winding round a point of woods, brought us suddenly upon anIndian village. A shout of joy broke from the whole party, but noanswering shout was returned--not even a bark of friendly welcome--as wegalloped up to the wigwams. All was silent as the grave. We rode roundand round, then dismounted and looked into several of the spacious huts. They had evidently been long deserted. Nothing remained but the barewalls of bark, from which everything in the shape of furniture had beenstripped by the owners and carried with them to their wintering-grounds, to be brought back in the spring, when they returned to make theircorn-fields and occupy their summer cabins. 

Our disappointment may be better imagined than described. With heavyhearts, we mounted and once more pursued our way, the snow again fallingand adding to the discomforts of our position. At length we halted forthe night. We had long been aware that our stock of provisions wasinsufficient for another day, and here we were--nobody knew where--inthe midst of woods and prairies--certainly far from any humanhabitation, with barely enough food for a slender evening's meal. 

The poor dogs came whining round us to beg their usual portion, but theywere obliged to content themselves with a bare bone, and we retired torest with the feeling that if not actually hungry then, we shouldcertainly be so to-morrow. 

The morrow came. Plante and Roy had a bright fire and a nice pot ofcoffee for us. It was our only breakfast, for, on shaking the bag andturning it inside out, we could make no more of our stock of bread thanthree crackers, which the rest of the party insisted I should put in mypocket for my dinner. I was much touched by the kindness of Mr. Kellogg, who drew from his wallet a piece of tongue and a slice of fruit-cake, which he said "he had been saving for _the lady_ since the day before, for he saw how matters were a going. "

Poor man! it would have been well if he had listened to Mr. Kinzie andprovided himself at the outset with a larger store of provisions. As itwas, those he brought with him were exhausted early in the second day, and he had been _boarding_ with us for the last two meals. 

We still had the trail to guide us, and we continued to follow it untilabout nine o'clock, when, in emerging from a wood, we came upon a broadand rapid river. A collection of Indian wigwams stood upon the oppositebank, and, as the trail led directly to the water, it was fair to inferthat the stream was fordable. We had no opportunity of testing it, however, for the banks were so lined with ice, which was piled up tierupon tier by the breaking-up of the previous week, that we tried in vainto find a path by which we could descend the bank to the water. 

The men shouted again and again, in hopes some straggling inhabitant ofthe village might be at hand with his canoe. No answer was returned, save by the echoes. What was to be done? I looked at my husband and sawthat care was on his brow, although he still continued to speakcheerfully. "We will follow this cross-trail down the bank of theriver, " said he. "There must be Indians wintering near, in some of thesepoints of wood. "

I must confess that I felt somewhat dismayed at our prospects, but Ikept up a show of courage, and did not allow my despondency to be seen. All the party were dull and gloomy enough. 

We kept along the bank, which was considerably elevated above the water, and bordered at a little distance with a thick wood. All at once myhorse, who was mortally afraid of Indians, began to jump and prance, snorting and pricking up his ears as if an enemy were at hand. Iscreamed with delight to my husband, who was at the head of the file, "Oh, John! John! there are Indians near--look at Jerry!"

At this instant a little Indian dog ran out from under the bushes by theroadside, and began barking at us. Never were sounds more welcome. Werode directly into the thicket, and, descending into a little hollow, found two squaws crouching behind the bushes, trying to concealthemselves from our sight. 

They appeared greatly relieved when Mr. Kinzie addressed them in thePottowattamie language, --

"What are you doing here?"

"Digging Indian potatoes"--(a species of artichoke. )

"Where is your lodge?"

"On the other side of the river. "

"Good--then you have a canoe here. Can you take us across?"

"Yes--the canoe is very small. "

They conducted us down the bank to the water's edge where the canoe was. It was indeed _very small_. My husband explained to them that they musttake me across first, and then return for the others of the party. 

"Will you trust yourself alone over the river?" inquired he. "You seethat but one can cross at a time. "

"Oh, yes"--and I was soon placed in the bottom of the canoe, lying flatand looking up at the sky, while the older squaw took the paddle in herhand, and placed herself on her knees at my head, and the younger, agirl of fourteen or fifteen, stationed herself at my feet. There wasjust room enough for me to lie in this position, each of the otherskneeling in the opposite ends of the canoe. 

While these preparations were making, Mr. Kinzie questioned the women asto our whereabout. They knew no name for the river but "Saumanong. "This was not definite, it being the generic term for any large stream. But he gathered that the village we had passed higher up, on theopposite side of the stream, was Wau-ban-see's, and then he knew that wewere on the Fox River, and probably about fifty miles from Chicago. 

The squaw, in answer to his inquiries, assured him that Chicago was"close by. "

"That means, " said he, "that it is not so far off as Canada. We must notbe too sanguine. "

The men set about unpacking the horses, and I in the mean time waspaddled across the river. The old woman immediately returned, leavingthe younger one with me for company. I seated myself on the fallen trunkof a tree, in the midst of the snow, and looked across the dark waters. I am not ashamed to confess my weakness--for the first time on myjourney I shed tears. It was neither hunger, nor fear, nor cold, whichextorted them from me. It was the utter desolation of spirit, thesickness of heart which "hope deferred" ever occasions, and which of allevils is the hardest to bear. 

The poor little squaw looked into my face with a wondering andsympathizing expression. Probably she was speculating in her own mindwhat a person who rode so fine a horse, and wore so comfortable abroadcloth dress, could have to cry about. I pointed to a seat beside meon the log, but she preferred standing and gazing at me, with the samepitying expression. Presently she was joined by a young companion, and, after a short chattering, of which I was evidently the subject, theyboth trotted off into the woods, and left me to my own solitaryreflections. 

"What would my friends at the East think, " said I to myself, "if theycould see me now? What would poor old Mrs. Welsh say? She who warned methat _if I came away so far to the West, I should break my heart?_Would she not rejoice to find how likely her prediction was to befulfilled?"

These thoughts roused me. I dried up my tears, and by the time myhusband with his party and all his horses and luggage were across, I hadrecovered my cheerfulness, and was ready for fresh adventures. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

RELIEF. 

We followed the old squaw to her lodge, which was at no great distancein the woods. I had never before been in an Indian lodge, although I hadoccasionally peeped into one of the many always clustered round thehouse of the Interpreter at the Portage. 

This one was very nicely arranged. Four sticks of wood placed to form asquare in the centre, answered the purpose of a hearth, within which thefire was built, the smoke escaping through an opening in the top. Themats of which the lodge was constructed were very neat and new, andagainst the sides, depending from the poles or frame-work, hung variousbags of Indian manufacture, containing their dried food and otherhousehold treasures. Sundry ladles, small kettles, and wooden bowls alsohung from the cross-poles; and dangling from the centre, by an ironchain, was a large kettle in which some dark, suspicious-lookingsubstance was seething over the scanty fire. On the floor of the lodge, between the fire and the outer wall, were spread mats, upon which myhusband invited me to be seated and make myself comfortable. 

The first demand of an Indian on meeting a white man is for _bread_, ofwhich they are exceedingly fond, and I knew enough of the Pottowattamielanguage to comprehend the timid "_pe-qua-zhe-gun choh-kay-go_" (I haveno bread) with which the squaw commenced our conversation after myhusband had left the lodge. 

I shook my head, and endeavored to convey to her that, so far from beingable to give, I had had no breakfast myself. She understood me, andinstantly produced a bowl, into which she ladled a quantity of Indianpotatoes from the kettle over the fire, and set them before me. I wastoo hungry to be fastidious, and, owing partly, no doubt, to thesharpness of my appetite, I really found them delicious. 

Two little girls, inmates of the lodge, sat gazing at me with evidentadmiration and astonishment, which were increased when I took my littlePrayer book from my pocket and began to read. They had, undoubtedly, never seen a book before, and I was amused at the care with which theylooked _away_ from me, while they questioned their mother about mystrange employment and listened to her replies. 

While thus occupied, I was startled by a sudden sound of "hogh!" and themat which hung over the entrance of the lodge was raised, and an Indianentered with that graceful bound which is peculiar to themselves. It wasthe master of the lodge, who had been out to shoot ducks, and was justreturned. He was a tall, finely-formed man, with a cheerful, opencountenance, and he listened to what his wife in a quiet tone related tohim, while he divested himself of his accoutrements, in the mostunembarrassed, well-bred manner imaginable. 

Soon my husband joined us. He had been engaged in attending to thecomfort of his horses, and assisting his men in making their fire, andpitching their tent, which the rising storm made a matter of somedifficulty. 

From the Indian he learned that we were in what was called the BigWoods, [17] or "Piché's Grove, " from a Frenchman of that name living notfar from the spot--that the river we had crossed was the Fox River--thathe could guide us to _Piché's_, from which the road was perfectly plain, or even into Chicago if we preferred--but that we had better remainencamped for that day, as there was a storm coming on, and in the meantime he would go and shoot some ducks for our dinner and supper. He wasaccordingly furnished with powder and shot, and set off again for gamewithout delay. 

I had put into my pocket, on leaving home, a roll of scarlet ribbon, incase a stout string should be wanted, and I now drew it forth, and withthe knife which hung around my neck I cut off a couple of yards for eachof the little girls. They received it with great delight, and theirmother, dividing each portion into two, tied a piece to each of thelittle clubs into which their hair was knotted on the temples. Theylaughed, and exclaimed "Saum!" as they gazed at each other, and theirmother joined in their mirth, although, as I thought, a little unwillingto display her maternal exultation before a stranger. 

The tent being all in order, my husband came for me, and we took leaveof our friends in the wigwam, with grateful hearts. 

The storm was raging without. The trees were bending and cracking aroundus, and the air was completely filled with the wild-fowl screaming and_quacking_ as they made their way southward before the blast. Our tentwas among the trees not far from the river. My husband took me to thebank to look for a moment at what we had escaped. The wind was sweepingdown from the north in a perfect hurricane. The water was filled withmasses of snow and ice, dancing along upon the torrent, over which werehurrying thousands of wild-fowl, making the woods resound to theirdeafening clamor. 

Had we been one hour later, we could not possibly have crossed thestream, and there would have been nothing for us but to have remainedand starved in the wilderness. Could we be sufficiently grateful to thatkind Providence that had brought us safely through such dangers?

The men had cut down an immense tree, and built a fire against it, butthe wind shifted so continually that every five minutes the tent wouldbecome completely filled with smoke, so that I was driven into the openair for breath. Then I would seat myself on one end of the huge log, asnear the fire as possible, for it was dismally cold, but the wind seemedactuated by a kind of caprice, for in whatever direction I took my seat, just that way came the smoke and hot ashes, puffing in my face until Iwas nearly blinded. Neither veil nor silk handkerchief afforded aneffectual protection, and I was glad when the arrival of our huntsmen, with a quantity of ducks, gave me an opportunity of diverting mythoughts from my own sufferings, by aiding the men to pick them and getthem ready for our meal. 

We borrowed a kettle from our Indian friends. It was not remarkablyclean; but we heated a little water in it, and _prairie-hay'd_ it out, before consigning our birds to it, and with a bowl of Indian potatoes, apresent from our kind neighbors, we soon had an excellent soup. 

What with the cold, the smoke, and the driving ashes and cinders, thiswas the most uncomfortable afternoon I had yet passed, and I was gladwhen night came, and I could creep into the tent and cover myself up inthe blankets, out of the way of all three of these evils. 

The storm raged with tenfold violence during the night. We werecontinually startled by the crashing of the falling trees around us, andwho could tell but that the next would be upon us? Spite of our fatigue, we passed an almost sleepless night. When we arose in the morning, wewere made fully alive to the perils by which we had been surrounded. Atleast fifty trees, the giants of the forest, lay prostrate within viewof the tent. 

When we had taken our scanty breakfast, and were mounted and ready fordeparture, it was with difficulty we could thread our way, so completelywas it obstructed by the fallen trunks. 

Our Indian guide had joined us at an early hour, and after conducting uscarefully out of the wood, and pointing out to us numerousbee-trees, [18] for which he said that grove was famous, he set off at along trot, and about nine o'clock brought us to _Piché's_, a log cabinon a rising ground, looking off over the broad prairie to the east. Wehad hoped to get some refreshment here, Piché being an old acquaintanceof some of the party; but, alas! the master was from home. We found hiscabin occupied by Indians and travellers--the latter few, the formernumerous. 

There was no temptation to a halt, except that of warming ourselves at abright fire that was burning in the clay chimney. A man in Quakercostume stepped forward to answer our inquiries, and offered to becomeour escort to Chicago, to which place he was bound--so we dismissed ourIndian friend, with a satisfactory remuneration for all the trouble hehad so kindly taken for us. 

A long reach of prairie extended from Piché's to the Du Page, betweenthe two forks of which, Mr. Dogherty, our new acquaintance, told us, weshould find the dwelling of a Mr. Hawley, who would give us acomfortable dinner. 

The weather was intensely cold; the wind, sweeping over the wide prairiewith nothing to break its force, chilled our very hearts. I beat my feetagainst the saddle to restore the circulation, when they became benumbedwith the cold, until they were so bruised I could beat them no longer. Not a house or wigwam, not even a clump of trees as a shelter, offereditself for many a weary mile. At length we reached the west fork of theDu Page. It was frozen, but not sufficiently so to bear the horses. Ouronly resource was to cut a way for them through the ice. It was a workof time, for the ice had frozen to several inches in thickness duringthe last bitter night. Plante went first with an axe, and cut as far ashe could reach, then mounted one of the hardy little ponies, and Withsome difficulty broke the ice before him, until he had opened a passageto the opposite shore. 

How the poor animals shivered as they were reined in among the floatingice! And we, who sat waiting in the piercing wind, were not much betteroff. Probably Brunet was of the same opinion; for, with his usualperversity, he plunged in immediately after Plante, and stood shakingand quaking behind him, every now and then looking around him, as muchas to say, "I've got ahead of you, this time!" We were all across atlast, and spurred on our horses, until we reached Hawley's[19]--alarge, commodious dwelling, near the east fork of the river. 

The good woman welcomed us kindly, and soon made us warm andcomfortable. We felt as if we were in a civilized land once more. Sheproceeded immediately to prepare dinner for us; and we watched her witheager eyes, as she took down a huge ham from the rafters, out of whichshe cut innumerable slices, then broke a dozen or more of fine fresheggs into a pan, in readiness for frying--then mixed a _johnny-cake_, and placed it against a board in front of the fire to bake. It seemed tome that even with the aid of this fine, bright fire, the dinner took anunconscionable time to cook; but cooked it was, at last, and truly mightthe good woman stare at the travellers' appetites we had brought withus. She did not know what short commons we had been on for the last twodays. 

We found, upon inquiry, that we could, by pushing on, reach Lawton's, onthe Aux Plaines, that night--we should then be within twelve miles ofChicago. Of course we made no unnecessary delay, but set off as soonafter dinner as possible. 

The crossing of the east fork of the Du Page was more perilous than theformer one had been. The ice had become broken, either by the force ofthe current, or by some equestrians having preceded us and cut throughit, so that when we reached the bank, the ice was floating down in largecakes. The horses had to make a rapid dart through the water, which wasso high, and rushing in such a torrent, that if I had not been mountedon Jerry, the tallest horse in the cavalcade, I must have got a terriblesplashing. 

As it was, I was well frightened, and grasped both bridle and mane withthe utmost tenacity. After this we travelled on as rapidly as possible, in order to reach our place of destination before dark. 

Mr. Dogherty, a tall, bolt-upright man, half Quaker, half Methodist, didhis best to entertain me, by giving me a thorough schedule of hisreligious opinions, with the reasons from Scripture upon which they werebased. He was a good deal of a perfectionist, and evidently looked uponhimself with no small satisfaction, as a living illustration of hisfavorite doctrine. 

"St. John says, " this was the style of his discourse, "St. John says, 'He that is born of God, doth not commit sin' Now, _if_ I am born ofGod, I do not commit sin. "

I was too cold and too weary to argue the point, so I let him have itall his own way. I believe he must have thought me rather a dullcompanion; but at least he gave me the credit of being a good listener. 

It was almost dark when we reached Lawton's. The Aux Plaines[20] wasfrozen, and the house was on the other side. By loud shouting, webrought out a man from the building, and he succeeded in cutting theice, and bringing a canoe over to us; but not until it had becomedifficult to distinguish objects in the darkness. 

A very comfortable house was Lawton's, after we did reach it--carpeted, and with a warm stove--in fact, quite in civilized style, Mr. Weeks, theman who brought us across, was the major-domo, during the temporaryabsence of Mr. Lawton. 

Mrs. Lawton was a young woman, and not ill-looking. She complainedbitterly of the loneliness of her condition, and having been "broughtout there into the woods; which was a thing she had not expected, whenshe came from the East. " We did not ask her with what expectations shehad come to a wild, unsettled country; but we tried to comfort her withthe assurance that things would grow better in a few years. She said, "She did not mean to wait for that. She should go back to her family inthe East, if Mr. Lawton did not invite some of her young friends to comeand stay with her, and make it agreeable. "

We could hardly realize, on rising the following morning, that onlytwelve miles of prairie intervened between us and _Chicago le Désiré_, as I could not but name it. 

We could look across the extended plain, and on its farthest verge werevisible two tall trees, which my husband pointed out to me as theplanting of his own hand, when a boy. Already they had become so loftyas to serve as landmarks, and they were constantly in view as wetravelled the beaten road. I was continually repeating to myself, "Therelive the friends I am so longing to see! There will terminate all ourtrials and hardships!"

A Mr. Wentworth joined us on the road, and of him we inquired after thewelfare of the family, from whom we had, for a long time, received nointelligence. When we reached Chicago, he took us to a little tavern atthe forks of the river. This portion of the place was then called _WolfPoint_, from its having been the residence of an Indian named"_Moaway_, " or "the Wolf. "

"Dear me, " said the old landlady, at the little tavern, "what dreadfulcold weather you must have had to travel in! Why, two days ago the riverwas all open here, and now it's frozen hard enough for folks to crossa-horseback!"

Notwithstanding this assurance, my husband did not like to venture, sohe determined to leave his horses and proceed on foot to the residenceof his mother and sister, a distance of about half a mile. 

We set out on our walk, which was first across the ice, then down thenorthern bank of the river. As we approached the house we were espied byGenevieve, a half-breed servant of the family. She did not wait tosalute us, but flew into the house, crying, --

"Oh! Madame Kinzie, who do you think has come? Monsieur John and MadameJohn, all the way from Fort Winnebago on foot!"

Soon we were in the arms of our dear, kind friends. A messenger wasdispatched to "the garrison" for the remaining members of the family, and for that day, at least, I was the wonder and admiration of the wholecircle, "for the dangers I had seen. "

CHAPTER XVII. 

CHICAGO IN 1831. 

Fort Dearborn at that day consisted of the same buildings as atpresent. [21] They were, of course, in a better state of preservation, though still considerably dilapidated. They had been erected in 1816, under the supervision of Captain Hezekiah Bradley, and there was a storycurrent that, such was his patriotic regard for the interests of theGovernment, he obliged the soldiers to fashion wooden pins, instead ofspikes and nails, to fasten the timbers of the buildings, and that heeven called on the junior officers to aid in their construction alongwith the soldiers, whose business it was. If this were true, the captainmust have labored under the delusion (excusable in one who had livedlong on the frontier) that Government would thank its servants for anyexcess of economical zeal. 

The fort was inclosed by high pickets, with bastions at the alternateangles. Large gates opened to the north and south, and there were smallposterns here and there for the accommodation of the inmates. The bankof the river which stretches to the west, now covered by the light-housebuildings, and inclosed by docks, was then occupied by the root-housesof the garrison. Beyond the parade-ground, which extended south of thepickets, were the company gardens, well filled with currant-bushes andyoung fruit-trees. 

The fort stood at what might naturally be supposed to be the mouth ofthe river. It was not so, however, for in those days the latter took aturn, sweeping round the promontory on which the fort was built, towardsthe south, and joining the lake about half a mile below. These buildingsstood on the right bank of the river, the left being a long spit of landextending from the northern shore, of which it formed a part. After thecutting through of this portion of the left bank in 1833 by the UnitedStates Engineers employed to construct a harbor at this point, and thethrowing out of the piers, the water overflowed this long tongue ofland, and, continually encroaching on the southern bank, robbed it ofmany valuable acres; while, by the same action of the vast body of thelake, an accretion was constantly taking place on the north of theharbor. 

The residence of Jean Baptiste Beaubien stood at this period between thegardens and the river-bank, and still farther south was a ricketytenement, built many years before by Mr. John Dean, the sutler of thepost. A short time after the commencement of the growth of Chicago, thefoundations of this building were undermined by the gradual encroachmentof the lake, and it tumbled backward down the bank, where it long lay, amelancholy spectacle. 

On the northern bank of the river, directly facing the fort, was thefamily mansion of my husband. [22] It was a long, low building, with apiazza extending along its front, a range of four or five rooms. A broadgreen space was inclosed between it and the river, and shaded by a rowof Lombardy poplars. Two immense cottonwood-trees stood in the rear ofthe building, one of which still remains as an ancient landmark. A fine, well-cultivated garden extended to the north of the dwelling, andsurrounding it were various buildings appertaining to theestablishment--dairy, bake-house, lodging-house for the Frenchmen, andstables. 

A vast range of sand-hills, covered with stunted cedars, pines, anddwarf-willow-trees, intervened between the house and the lake, whichwas, at this time, not more than thirty rods distant. 

Proceeding from this point along the northern bank of the river, we camefirst to the Agency House, "Cobweb Castle, " as it had been denominatedwhile long the residence of a bachelor, and the _sobriquet_ adhered toit ever after. It stood at what is now the southwest corner ofWolcott[23] and N. Water Streets. Many will still remember it, asubstantial, compact little building of logs hewed and squared, with acentre, two wings, and, strictly speaking, two _tails_, since, whenthere was found no more room for additions at the sides, they wereplaced in the rear, whereon a vacant spot could be found. 

These appendages did not mar the symmetry of the whole, as viewed fromthe front, but when, in the process of the town's improvement, a streetwas maliciously opened directly in the rear of the building, the wholeestablishment, with its comical little adjuncts, was a constant sourceof amusement to the passers-by. No matter. There were pleasant, happyhours passed under its odd-shaped roof, as many of Chicago's earlysettlers can testify. 

Around the Agency House were grouped a collection of log buildings, theresidences of the different persons in the employ of Government, appertaining to that establishment--blacksmith, striker, and laborers. These were for the most part Canadians or half-breeds, with occasionallya stray Yankee, to set all things going by his activity and enterprise. 

There was still another house on the north side of the river, built by aformer resident by the name of Miller, but he had removed to "Rivière duChemin, " or Trail Creek, which about this time began to be called"Michigan City. "[24] This house, which stood near the forks of theriver, was at this time vacant. 

There was no house on the southern bank of the river, between the fortand "The Point, " as the forks of the river were then called. The landwas a low wet prairie, scarcely affording good walking in the dryestsummer weather, while at other seasons it was absolutely impassable. Amuddy streamlet, or, as it is called in this country, a _slew_, [25]after winding around from about the present site of the Tremont House, fell into the river at the foot of State Street. [26]

At the Point, on the south side, stood a house just completed by MarkBeaubien. It was a pretentious white two-story building, withbright-blue wooden shutters, the admiration of all the little circle atWolf Point. Here a canoe ferry was kept to transport people across thesouth branch of the river. 

Facing down the river from the west was, first a small tavern kept byMr. Wentworth, familiarly known as "Old Geese, " not from any want ofshrewdness on his part, but in compliment to one of his own cantexpressions. Near him were two or three log cabins occupied by Robinson, the Pottowattamie chief, and some of his wife's connexions. BillyCaldwell, the Sau-ga-nash, too, resided here occasionally, with hiswife, who was a daughter of Nee-scot-nee-meg, one of the most famouschiefs of the nation. A little remote from these residences was a smallsquare log building, originally designed for a school-house, butoccasionally used as a place of worship whenever any itinerant ministerpresented himself. 

The family of Clybourn had, previous to this time, establishedthemselves near their present residence on the North Branch--they calledtheir place _New Virginia_. Four miles up the South Branch was an oldbuilding which was at one time an object of great interest as havingbeen the theatre of some stirring events during the troubles of1812. [27] It was denominated Lee's Place, or Hardscrabble. Here lived, at this time, a settler named Heacock. 

Owing to the badness of the roads a greater part of the year, the usualmode of communication between the fort and the Point was by a boat rowedup the river, or by a canoe paddled by some skilful hand. By the lattermeans, too, an intercourse was kept up between the residents of the fortand the Agency House. 

There were, at this time, two companies of soldiers in the garrison, butof the officers one, Lieutenant Furman, had died the autumn previous, and several of the others were away on furlough. In the absence of MajorFowle and Captain Scott, the command devolved on Lieutenant Hunter. Besides him, there were Lieutenants Engle and Foster--the latterunmarried. Dr. Finley, the post surgeon, was also absent, and his placewas supplied by Dr. Harmon, a gentleman from Vermont. 

My husband's mother, two sisters, and brother resided at the AgencyHouse--the family residence near the lake being occupied by J. N. Bailey, the postmaster. 

In the Dean House lived a Mr. And Mrs. Forbes, who kept a school. Gholson Kercheval had a small trading establishment in one of the logbuildings at Wolf Point, and John S. C. Hogan superintended the sutler'sstore in the garrison. 

There was also a Mr. See lately come into the country, living at thePoint, who sometimes held forth in the little school-house on a Sunday, less to the edification of his hearers than to the unmerciful slaughterof the "King's English. "

I think this enumeration comprises all the white inhabitants of Chicagoat a period less than half a century ago. To many who may read thesepages the foregoing particulars will, doubtless, appear uninteresting. But to those who visit Chicago, and still more to those who come to makeit their home, it may be not without interest to look back to its firstbeginnings; to contemplate the almost magical change which a few yearshave wrought; and from the past to augur the marvellous prosperity ofthe future. 

The origin of the name Chicago is a subject of discussion, some of theIndians deriving it from the fitch or polecat, others from the wildonion with which the woods formerly abounded; but all agree that theplace received its name from an old chief who was drowned in the streamin former times. That this event, although so carefully preserved bytradition, must have occurred in a very remote period, is evident froman old French manuscript brought by General Cass from France. 

In this paper, which purports to be a letter from M. De Ligney, at GreenBay, to M. De Siette, among the Illinois, dated as early as 1726, theplace is designated as "Chica-goux. " This orthography is also found inold family letters of the beginning of the present century. 

 * * * * *

In giving the early history of Chicago, the Indians say, with greatsimplicity, "the first white man who settled here was a negro. "

This was Jean Baptiste Point-au-Sable, a native of St. Domingo, who, about the year 1796, found his way to this remote region, and commenceda life among the Indians. There is usually a strong affection betweenthese two races, and Jean Baptiste imposed upon his new friends bymaking them believe that he had been a "great chief" among the whites. Perhaps he was disgusted at not being elected to a similar dignity bythe Pottowattamies, for he quitted this vicinity, and finally terminatedhis days at Peoria, under the roof of his friend Glamorgan, another St. Domingo negro, who had obtained large Spanish grants in St. Louis andits environs, and who, at one time, was in the enjoyment of an extensivelanded estate. 

Point-au-Sable had made some improvements at Chicago, which were takenpossession of by a Frenchman named Le Mai, who commenced trading withthe Indians. After a few years Le Mai's establishment was purchased byJohn Kinzie, Esq. , who at that time resided at Bertrand, or _Parc auxVaches_, as it was then called, near Niles, in Michigan. As thisgentleman was for nearly twenty years, with the exception of themilitary, the only white inhabitant of Northern Illinois, someparticulars of his early life may not be uninteresting. 

He was born in Quebec in 1163. His mother had been previously married toa gentleman of the name of Haliburton. The only daughter of thismarriage was the mother of General Fleming, Nicholas Low, Esq. , and Mrs. Charles King, of New York. She is described as a lady of remarkablebeauty and accomplishments. Mr. Kinzie was the only child of the secondmarriage. His father died in his infancy, and his mother married a thirdtime a Mr. Forsyth, after which they removed to the city of New York. 

At the age of ten or eleven years he was placed at school with two ofhis half-brothers at Williamsburg, L. I. A negro servant was sent fromthe city every Saturday, to bring the children home, to remain until thefollowing Monday morning. Upon one occasion, when the messenger arrivedat the school he found all things in commotion. Johnny Kinzie wasmissing! Search was made in all directions; every place was ransacked. It was all in vain; no Johnny Kinzie could be found. 

The heavy tidings were carried home to his mother. By some it wassupposed the lad was drowned; by others that he had strayed away, andwould return. Weeks passed by, and months, and he was at length given upand mourned as lost. In the mean time the boy was fulfilling adetermination he had long formed, to visit his native city of Quebec, and make his way in life for himself. 

He had by some means succeeded in crossing from Williamsburg to the cityof New York, and finding at one of the docks on the North River a sloopbound for Albany, he took passage on board of her. While on his way upthe river, he was noticed by a gentleman, who, taking an interest in thelittle lonely passenger, questioned him about his business. 

"He was going to Quebec, where he had some friends. "

"Had he the means to carry him there?"

"Not much, but he thought he could get along. "

It happened, fortunately, that the gentleman himself was going toQuebec. He took the boy under his care, paid his expenses the wholedistance, and finally parted with him in the streets of the city, wherehe was, in truth, a stranger. 

He wandered about for a time, looking into various "stores" andworkshops. At length, on entering the shop of a silversmith, he wassatisfied with the expression he read in the countenance of the master, and he inquired if he wanted an apprentice. 

"What, you, my little fellow! What can you do?"

"Anything you can teach me. "

"Well, we will make a trial and see. "

The trial was satisfactory. He remained in the family of his kindfriend for more than three years, when his parents, who, in removing toDetroit, had necessarily returned to Canada, discovered his place ofabode, and he was restored to them. 

There were five younger half-brothers, of the name of Forsyth. In theold family Bible, we find the following touching record of an event thatoccurred after the family had removed to Detroit:--

"George Forsyth was lost in the woods 6th August, 1775, when Henry Haysand Mark Stirling ran away and left him. The remains of George Forsythwere found by an Indian the 2d of October, 1776, close by the PrairieRonde. "

It seems a singular fatality that the unhappy mother should have beentwice called to suffer a similar affliction--the loss of a child in amanner worse than death, inasmuch as it left room for all the horrorsthat imagination can suggest. The particulars of the loss of this littlebrother were these. As he came from school one evening, he met thecolored servant-boy on horseback, going to the common for the cows. Theschool-house stood quite near the old fort, and all beyond that, towardsthe west, was a wild, uncultivated tract called "the Common. " The childbegged of the servant to take him up and give him a ride, but the otherrefused, bidding him return home at once. He was accompanied by twoother boys, somewhat older, and together they followed the negro forsome distance, hoping to prevail upon him to give them a ride. As itgrew dark, the two older boys turned back, but the other kept on. Whenthe negro returned he had not again seen the child, nor were any tidingsever received of him, notwithstanding the diligent search made by thewhole little community, until, as related in the record, his remainswere found the following year by an Indian. There was nothing toidentify them, except the auburn curls of his hair, and the little bootshe had worn. He must have perished very shortly after having lost hisway, for the Prairie Ronde was too near the settlement to have preventedhis bearing the calls and sounding horns of those in search of him, hadhe been living. 

Mr. Kinzie's enterprising and adventurous disposition led him, as hegrew older, to live much on the frontier. He early entered into theIndian trade, and had establishments at Sandusky and Maumee. About theyear 1800 he pushed farther west, to St. Joseph's, Michigan. In thisyear he married Mrs. McKillip, the widow of a British officer, and in1804 came to make his home at Chicago. It was in this year that thefirst fort was built by Major John Whistler. 

By degrees more remote trading-posts were established by him, allcontributing to the parent one at Chicago; at Milwaukie with theMenomonees; at Rock River with the Winnebagoes and the Pottowattamies;on the Illinois River and Kankakee with the Pottowattamies of thePrairies, and with the Kickapoos in what was called "_Le Large_, " beingthe widely extended district afterwards erected into Sangamon County. 

Each trading-post had its superintendent, and its complement ofengagés--its train of pack-horses and its equipment of boats and canoes. From most of the stations the furs and peltries were brought to Chicagoon pack-horses, and the goods necessary for the trade were transportedin return by the same method. 

The vessels which came in the spring and fall (seldom more than two orthree annually), to bring the supplies and goods for the trade, took thefurs that were already collected to Mackinac, the depôt of the Southwestand American Fur Companies. At other seasons they were sent to thatplace in boats, coasting around the lake. 

 * * * * *

Of the Canadian voyageurs or engagés, a race that has now so nearlypassed away, some notice may very properly here be given. 

They were unlike any other class of men. Like the poet, they seemed bornto their vocation. Sturdy, enduring, ingenious, and light-hearted, theypossessed a spirit capable of adapting itself to any emergency. Nodifficulties baffled, no hardships discouraged them; while theiraffectionate nature led them to form attachments of the warmestcharacter to their "bourgeois, " or master, as well as to the nativeinhabitants, among whom their engagements carried them. 

Montreal, or, according to their own pronunciation, _Marrialle_, wastheir depôt. It was at that place that the agents commissioned to makeup the quota for the different companies and traders found the materialfor their selections. 

The terms of engagement were usually from four to six hundred livres(ancient Quebec currency) per annum as wages, with rations of one quartof lyed corn, and two ounces of tallow per diem, or "its equivalent inwhatever sort of food is to be found in the Indian country. " Instanceshave been known of their submitting cheerfully to fare upon fresh fishand maple-sugar for a whole winter, when cut off from other supplies. 

It was a common saying, "Keep an engagé to his corn and tallow, he willserve you well--give him pork and bread, and he soon gets beyond yourmanagement. " They regard the terms of their engagement as binding to theletter. An old trader, M. Berthelet, engaged a crew at Montreal. Theterms of agreement were, that they should eat when their bourgeois did, and what he did. It was a piece of fun on the part of the old gentleman, but the simple Canadians believed it to be a signal instance of goodluck that had provided them such luxurious prospects. The bourgeoisstuffed his pockets with crackers, and, when sure of being quiteunobserved, would slily eat one. Pipe after pipe passed--the men grewhungry, but, observing that there were no preparations of a meal for thebourgeois, they bore their fast without complaining. 

At length the matter became too serious--they could stand it no longer. In their distress they begged off from the bargain, and gladlycompounded to take the customary rations, instead of the dainty farethey had been promising themselves with their master. 

On arriving at Mackinac, which was the entrepôt of the fur trade, asmall proportion of the voyageur's wages was advanced him, to furnishhis winter's outfit, his pipes and tobacco, his needles and thread, somepieces of bright-colored ribbons, and red and yellow gartering (qualitybinding), with which to purchase their little necessaries from theIndians. To these, if his destination were Lake Superior, or a post farto the north where such articles could not be readily obtained, wereadded one or two smoked deer-skins for moccasins. 

Thus equipped, he entered upon his three years' service, to toil by day, and laugh, joke, sing, and tell stories when the evening hour broughtrest and liberty. 

There was not wanting here and there an instance of obstinate adherenceto the exact letter of the agreement in regard to the nature ofemployment, although, as a general thing, the engagé held himself readyto fulfil the behests of his bourgeois, as faithfully as ever did vassalthose of his chief. 

A Story is told of M. St. Jean, a trader on the Upper Mississippi, whoupon a certain occasion ordered one of his Frenchmen to accompany aparty to the forest to chop wood. The man refused. "He was not hired, "he said, "to chop wood. "

"Ah! for what, then, were you hired?"

"To steer a boat. "

"Very well; steer a boat, then, since you prefer it. "

It was mid-winter. The recusant was marched to the river-side, andplaced in the stern of the boat, which lay fastened in the ice. 

After serving a couple of hours at his legitimate employment, with thethermometer below zero, he was quite content to take his place with thechopping-party, and never again thought it good policy to choose workfor himself. 

There is an aristocracy in the voyageur service which is quite amusing. The engagement is usually made for three years. The engagé of the firstyear, who is called a "_mangeur-de-lard_, " or pork-eater, is looked downupon with the most sovereign contempt by an "_hivernant_, " or one whohas already passed a winter in the country. He will not only notassociate with him, but if invited by him to join him in a friendlyglass, he will make some excuse for declining. The most inveteratedrunkard, while tortured by a longing to partake his favoriteindulgence, will yet never suffer himself to be enticed into aninfringement of this custom. 

After the first winter, the _mangeur-de-lard_ rises from his freshmanclass, and takes his place where he can in turn lord it over allnew-comers. 

Another peculiarity of the voyageurs is their fancy for transforming thenames of their bourgeois into something funny, which resembles it insound. Thus, Kinzie would be called by one "_Quinze nez_" (fifteennoses), by another "_Singé_" (monkeyfied). Mr. Kercheval was denominated_Mons. Court-cheval_ (short horse), the Judge of Probate, "_le JugeTrop-bête"_ (too foolish), etc. The following is an instance in point. 

Mr. Shaw, one of the agents of the Northwest Fur Company, had passedmany years on the frontier, and was by the voyageurs called Monsieur LeChat. [28] On quitting the Indian country he married a Canadian lady andbecame the father of several children. Some years after his return toCanada, his old foreman, named Louis la Liberté, went to Montreal tospend the winter. He had heard of his old bourgeois' marriage, and wasanxious to see him. 

Mr. Shaw was walking in the Champ de Mars with a couple of officers, when La Liberté espied him. He immediately ran up, and, seizing him byboth hands, accosted him, --

"_Ah! mon cher Monsieur le Chat: comment vous portez-vous_?" (My dearMr. Cat, how do you do?)

"_Très-bien, Louizon_. "

"_Et comment se porte Madame la Chatte_?" (How is the mother cat?)

"_Bien, bien, Louizon; elle est très-bien_" (She is very well. )

"_Et tous les petits Chatons_?" (And all the kittens?)

This was too much for Mr. Shaw. He answered shortly that the _kittenswere all well_, and turned away with his military friends, leaving poorLouizon quite astonished at the abruptness of his departure. 

Cut off, in the manner described, from the world at large, with nosociety but the military, thus lived the family of Mr. Kinzie, in greatcontentment, and in the enjoyment of all the comforts, together withmost of the luxuries, of life. 

The Indians reciprocated the friendship that was shown them, and formedfor them an attachment of no ordinary strength, as was manifested duringthe scenes of the year 1812, eight years after Mr. Kinzie first came tolive among them. 

Some of the most prominent events of that year are recorded in thefollowing Narrative. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

MASSACRE AT CHICAGO. [29]

It was the evening of the 7th of April, 1812. The children of Mr. Kinziewere dancing before the fire to the music of their father's violin. Thetea-table was spread, and they were awaiting the return of their mother, who had gone to visit a sick neighbor about a quarter of a mile up theriver. 

Suddenly their sports were interrupted. The door was thrown open, andMrs. Kinzie rushed in, pale with terror, and scarcely able toarticulate, "The Indians! the Indians!"

"The Indians? What? Where?" eagerly demanded they all. 

"Up at Lee's Place, killing and scalping!"

With difficulty Mrs. Kinzie composed herself sufficiently to give theinformation, "That, while she was up at Burns's, a man and a boy wereseen running down with all speed on the opposite side of the river; thatthey had called across to give notice to Barns's family to savethemselves, for _the Indians_ were at Lee's Place, from which they hadjust made their escape. Having given this terrifying news, they had madeall speed for the fort, which was on the same side of the river thatthey then were. "

All was now consternation and dismay. The family were hurried into twoold _pirogues_, that lay moored near the house, and paddled with allpossible haste across the river to take refuge in the fort. 

All that the man and boy who had made their escape were able to tell, was soon known; but, in order to render their story more intelligible, it is necessary to describe the scene of action. 

_Lee's Place_, since known by the name of Hardscrabble, was a farmintersected by the Chicago River, about four miles from its mouth. Thefarm-house stood on the western bank of the south branch of this river. On the north side of the main stream, but quite near its junction withLake Michigan, stood (as has already been described) the dwelling-houseand trading-establishment of Mr. Kinzie. 

The fort was situated on the southern bank, directly opposite thismansion--the river, and a few rods of sloping green turf on either side, being all that intervened between them. 

The fort was differently constructed from the one erected on the samesite in 1816. It had two block-houses on the southern side, and on thenorthern a sally-port, or subterranean passage from the parade-ground tothe river. This was designed either to facilitate escape in case of anemergency, or as a means of supplying the garrison with water during asiege. 

The officers in the fort at this period were Captain Heald, thecommanding officer, Lieutenant Helm, the son-in-law of Mr. Kinzie, andEnsign Ronan--the two last were very young men--and the surgeon, Dr. VanVoorhees. 

The command numbered about seventy-five men; very few of whom wereeffective. 

A constant and friendly intercourse had been maintained between thesetroops and the Indians. It is true that the principal men of thePottowattamie nation, like those of most other tribes, went yearly toFort Malden, in Canada, to receive a large amount of presents, withwhich the British Government had, for many years, been in the habit ofpurchasing their alliance; and it was well known that many of thePottowattamies, as well as Winnebagoes, had been engaged with theOttawas and Shawnees at the battle of Tippecanoe, the preceding autumn;yet, as the principal chiefs of all the bands in the neighborhoodappeared to be on the most amicable terms with the Americans, nointerruption of their harmony was at any time anticipated. 

After the 15th of August, however, many circumstances were recollectedthat might have opened the eyes of the whites, had they not been lulledin a fatal security. One instance in particular may be mentioned. 

In the spring preceding the destruction of the fort, two Indians of theCalumet band came to the fort on a visit to the commanding officer. Asthey passed through the quarters, they saw Mrs. Heald and Mrs. Helmplaying at battledoor. 

Turning to the interpreter, one of them, Nau-non-gee, remarked, "Thewhite chiefs' wives are amusing themselves very much; it will not belong before they are hoeing in our corn-fields!"

This was considered at the time an idle threat, or, at most, anebullition of jealous feeling at the contrast between the situation oftheir own women and that of the "white chiefs' wives. " Some monthsafter, how bitterly was it remembered!

 * * * * *

The farm at Lee's Place was occupied by a Mr. White and three personsemployed by him in the care of the farm. 

In the afternoon of the day on which our narrative commences, a party often or twelve Indians, dressed and painted, arrived at the house, and, according to the custom among savages, entered and seated themselveswithout ceremony. 

Something in their appearance and manner excited the suspicions of oneof the family, a Frenchman, who remarked, "I do not like the appearanceof these Indians--they are none of our folks. I know by their dress andpaint that they are not Pottowattamies. "

Another of the family, a discharged soldier, then said to the boy whowas present, "If that is the case, we had better get away from them ifwe can. Say nothing; but do as you see me do. "

As the afternoon was far advanced, the soldier walked leisurely towardsthe canoes, of which there were two tied near the bank. Some of theIndians inquired where he was going. He pointed to the cattle which werestanding among the haystacks on the opposite bank, and made signs thatthey must go and fodder them, and then they should return and get theirsupper. 

He got into one canoe, and the boy into the other. The stream wasnarrow, and they were soon across. When they had gained the oppositeside, they pulled some hay for the cattle--made a show of collectingthem--and when they had gradually made a circuit, so that theirmovements were concealed by the haystacks, they took to the woods, whichwere close at hand, and made for the fort. 

They had run about a quarter of a mile, when they heard the discharge oftwo guns successively, which they supposed to have been levelled at thecompanions they had left behind. 

They stopped not nor stayed until they arrived opposite Burns's, [30]where, as before related, they called across to advertise the family oftheir danger, and then hastened on to the fort. 

It now occurred to those who had secured their own safety, that thefamily of Burns was at this moment exposed to the most imminent peril. The question was, who would hazard his own life to bring them to a placeof safety? A gallant young officer, Ensign Ronan, volunteered, with aparty of five or six soldiers, to go to their rescue. 

They ascended the river in a scow, and took the mother, with her infantof scarcely a day old, upon her bed to the boat, in which they carefullyconveyed her and the other members of the family to the fort. 

A party of soldiers, consisting of a corporal and six men, had thatafternoon obtained leave to go up the river to fish. 

They had not returned when the fugitives from Lee's Place arrived atthe fort, and, fearing that they might encounter the Indians, thecommanding officer ordered a cannon to be fired, to warn them of danger. 

They were at the time about two miles above Lee's Place. Hearing thesignal, they took the hint, put out their torches (for it was nownight), and dropped down the river towards the garrison, as silently aspossible. It will be remembered that the unsettled state of the countrysince the battle of Tippecanoe, the preceding November, had renderedevery man vigilant, and the slightest alarm was an admonition to "bewareof the Indians. "

When the fishing-party reached Lee's Place, it was proposed to stop andwarn the inmates to be upon their guard, as the signal from the fortindicated danger of some kind. All was still as death around the house. They groped their way along, and as the corporal jumped over the smallenclosure he placed his hand upon the dead body of a man. By the senseof touch he soon ascertained that the head was without a scalp, andotherwise mutilated. The faithful dog of the murdered man stood guardingthe lifeless remains of his master. 

The tale was now told. The men retreated to their canoes, and reachedthe fort unmolested about eleven o'clock at night. The next morning aparty of the citizens and soldiers volunteered to go to Lee's Place, tolearn further the fate of its occupants. The body of Mr. White was foundpierced by two balls, and with eleven stabs in the breast. TheFrenchman, as already described, lay dead, with his dog still besidehim. Their bodies were brought to the fort and buried in its immediatevicinity. 

It was subsequently ascertained, from traders out in the Indian country, that the perpetrators of this bloody deed were a party of Winnebagoes, who had come into this neighborhood to "take some white scalps. " Theirplan had been, to proceed down the river from Lee's Place, and killevery white man without the walls of the fort. Hearing, however, thereport of the cannon, and not knowing what it portended, they thought itbest to remain satisfied with this one exploit, and forthwith retreatedto their homes on Rock River. 

The inhabitants outside the fort, consisting of a few dischargedsoldiers and some families of half-breeds, now intrenched themselves inthe Agency House. This stood west of the fort, between the pickets andthe river, and distant about twenty rods from the former. 

It was an old-fashioned log building, with a hall running through thecentre, and one large room on each side. Piazzas extended the wholelength of the building in front and rear. These were planked up, forgreater security, port-holes were cut, and sentinels posted at night. 

As the enemy were believed to be lurking still in the neighborhood, or, emboldened by former success, likely to return at any moment, an orderwas issued prohibiting any soldier or citizen from leaving the vicinityof the garrison without a guard. 

One night a sergeant and private, who were out on a patrol, camesuddenly upon a party of Indians in the pasture adjoining the esplanade. The sergeant fired his piece, and both retreated towards the fort. Before they could reach it, an Indian threw his tomahawk, which missedthe sergeant and struck a wagon standing near. The sentinel from theblock-house immediately fired, and with effect, while the men got safelyin. The next morning it was ascertained, from traces of blood to aconsiderable distance into the prairie, and from the appearance of abody having been laid among the long grass, that some execution had beendone. 

On another occasion the enemy entered the esplanade to steal horses. Not finding them in the stable, as they had expected, they madethemselves amends for their disappointment by stabbing all the sheep inthe stable and then letting them loose. The poor animals flocked towardsthe fort. This gave the alarm--the garrison was aroused--parties weresent out, but the marauders escaped unmolested. 

 * * * * *

The inmates of the fort experienced no farther alarm for many weeks. 

On the afternoon of the 7th of August, Winnemeg, or _Catfish_, aPottowattamie chief, arrived at the post, bringing despatches fromGeneral Hull. These announced the declaration of war between the UnitedStates and Great Britain, and that General Hull, at the head of theNorthwestern army, had arrived at Detroit; also, that the island ofMackinac had fallen into the hands of the British. 

The orders to Captain Heald were, "to evacuate the fort, if practicable, and, in that event, to distribute all the United States' propertycontained in the fort, and in the United States' factory or agency, among the Indians in the neighborhood. "

After having delivered his despatches, Winnemeg requested a privateinterview with Mr. Kinzie, who had taken up his residence in the fort. He stated to Mr. K. That he was acquainted with the purport of thecommunications he had brought, and begged him to ascertain if it werethe intention of Captain Heald to evacuate the post. He advised stronglyagainst such a step, inasmuch as the garrison was well supplied withammunition, and with provisions for six months. It would, therefore, befar better, he thought, to remain until a reinforcement could be sent totheir assistance. If, however, Captain Heald should decide upon leavingthe post, it should by all means be done immediately. ThePottowattamies, through whose country they must pass, being ignorant ofthe object of Winnemeg's mission, a forced march might be made, beforethose who were hostile in their feelings were prepared to interruptthem. 

Of this advice, so earnestly given, Captain Heald was immediatelyinformed. He replied that it was his intention to evacuate the post, butthat, inasmuch as he had received orders to distribute the UnitedStates' property, he should not feel justified in leaving it until hehad collected the Indians of the neighborhood and made an equitabledivision among them. 

Winnemeg then suggested the expediency of marching out, and leaving allthings standing--possibly while the Indians were engaged in thepartition of the spoils, the troops might effect their retreatunmolested. This advice was strongly seconded by Mr. Kinzie, but did notmeet the approbation of the commanding officer. 

The order for evacuating the post was read next morning upon parade. Itis difficult to understand why Captain Heald, in such an emergency, omitted the usual form of calling a council of war with his officers. Itcan only be accounted for by the fact of a want of harmonious feelingbetween himself and one of his junior officers--Ensign Ronan, ahigh-spirited and somewhat overbearing, but brave and generous youngman. 

In the course of the day, finding that no council was called, theofficers waited on Captain Heald to be informed what course he intendedto pursue. When they learned his intentions, they remonstrated with him, on the following grounds:

First--It was highly improbable that the command would be permitted topass through the country in safety to Fort Wayne. For although it hadbeen said that some of the chiefs had opposed an attack upon the fort, planned the preceding autumn, yet it was well known that they had beenactuated in that matter by motives of private regard to one family, thatof Mr. Kinzie, and not to any general friendly feeling towards theAmericans; and that, at any rate, it was hardly to be expected thatthese few individuals would be able to control the whole tribe, who werethirsting for blood. 

In the next place--Their march must necessarily be slow, as theirmovements must be accommodated to the helplessness of the women andchildren, of whom there were a number with the detachment. That of theirsmall force, some of the soldiers were superannuated, others invalid;therefore, since the course to be pursued was left discretional, theirunanimous advice was, to remain where they were, and fortify themselvesas strongly as possible. Succors from the other side of the peninsulamight arrive before they could be attacked by the British from Mackinac;and even should they not, it were far better to fall into the hands ofthe latter than to become the victims of the savages. 

Captain Heald argued in reply, that a special order had been issued bythe War Department, that no post should be surrendered without battlehaving been given, and his force was totally inadequate to an engagementwith the Indians; that he should unquestionably be censured forremaining, when there appeared a prospect of a safe march through; andthat, upon the whole, he deemed it expedient to assemble the Indians, distribute the property among them, and then ask of them an escort toFort Wayne, with the promise of a considerable reward upon their safearrival--adding, that he had full confidence in the friendly professionsof the Indians, from whom, as well as from the soldiers, the capture ofMackinac had been kept a profound secret. 

From this time the officers held themselves aloof, and spoke but littleupon the subject, though they considered the project of Captain Healdlittle short of madness. The dissatisfaction among the soldiers hourlyincreased, until it reached a high pitch of insubordination. 

Upon one occasion, as Captain Heald was conversing with Mr. Kinzie uponthe parade, he remarked, "I could not remain, even if I thought it best, for I have but a small store of provisions. "

"Why, captain, " said a soldier who stood near, forgetting all etiquettein the excitement of the moment, "you have cattle enough to last thetroops six months. "

"But, " replied Captain Heald, "I have no salt to preserve it with. "

"Then jerk[31] it, " said the man, "as the Indians do their venison. "

The Indians now became daily more unruly. Entering the fort in defianceof the sentinels, they made their way without ceremony into theofficers' quarters. On one occasion an Indian took up a rifle and firedit in the parlor of the commanding officer, as an expression ofdefiance. Some were of opinion that this was intended among the youngmen as a signal for an attack. The old chiefs passed backwards andforwards among the assembled groups, with the appearance of the mostlively agitation, while the squaws rushed to and fro, in greatexcitement, and evidently prepared for some fearful scene. 

Any further manifestation of ill feeling was, however, suppressed forthe present, and Captain Heald, strange as it may seem, continued toentertain a conviction of having created so amicable a disposition amongthe Indians as would insure the safety of the command on their march toFort Wayne. 

Thus passed the time until the 12th of August. The feelings of theinmates of the fort during this time may be better imagined thandescribed. Each morning that dawned seemed to bring them nearer to thatmost appalling fate--butchery by a savage foe--and at night theyscarcely dared yield to slumber, lest they should be aroused by thewar-whoop and tomahawk. Gloom and mistrust prevailed, and the want ofunanimity among the officers debarred them the consolation they mighthave found in mutual sympathy and encouragement. 

The Indians being assembled from the neighboring villages, a council washeld with them on the afternoon of the 12th. Captain Heald aloneattended on the part of the military. He requested his officers toaccompany him, but they declined. They had been secretly informed thatit was the intention of the young chiefs to fall upon the officers andmassacre them while in council, but they could not persuade CaptainHeald of the truth of their information. They waited therefore onlyuntil he had left the garrison, accompanied by Mr. Kinzie, when theytook command of the block-houses which overlooked the esplanade on whichthe council was held, opened the port-holes, and pointed the cannon soas to command the whole assembly. By this means, probably, the lives ofthe whites who were present in council were preserved. 

In council, the commanding officer informed the Indians that it was hisintention to distribute among them, the next day, not only the goodslodged in the United States' factory, but also the ammunition andprovisions, with Which the garrison was well supplied. He thenrequested of the Pottowattamies an escort to Fort Wayne, promising thema liberal reward on arriving there, in addition to the presents theywere now about to receive. With many professions of friendship and goodwill, the savages assented to all be proposed, and promised all herequired. 

After the council, Mr. Kinzie, who understood well, not only the Indiancharacter, but the present tone of feeling among them, had a longinterview with Captain Heald, in hopes of opening his eyes to thepresent posture of affairs. 

He reminded him that since the troubles with the Indians upon the Wabashand its vicinity, there had appeared a settled plan of hostilitiestowards the whites, in consequence of which it had been the policy ofthe Americans to withhold from them whatever would enable them to carryon their warfare upon the defenceless inhabitants of the frontier. 

Mr. Kinzie also recalled to Captain Heald how that, having left home forDetroit, the preceding autumn, on receiving, when he had proceeded asfar as De Charme's, [32] the intelligence of the battle of Tippecanoe, hehad immediately returned to Chicago, that he might dispatch orders tohis traders to furnish no ammunition to the Indians; in consequence ofwhich all they had on hand was secreted, and such of the traders as hadnot already started for their wintering-grounds, took neither powder norshot with them. 

Captain Heald was struck with the impolicy of furnishing the enemy (forsuch they must now consider their old neighbors) with arms againsthimself, and determined to destroy all the ammunition except what shouldbe necessary for the use of his own troops. 

On the 13th, the goods, consisting of blankets, broadcloths, calicoes, paints, etc. , were distributed, as stipulated. The same evening theammunition and liquor were carried, part into the sally-port, and throwninto a well which had been dug there to supply the garrison with waterin case of emergency; the remainder was transported as secretly aspossible through the northern gate, the heads of the barrels knocked in, and the contents poured into the river. 

The same fate was shared by a large quantity of alcohol belonging to Mr. Kinzie, which had been deposited in a warehouse near his residenceopposite the fort. 

The Indians suspected what was going on, and crept, serpent-like, asnear the scene of action as possible, but a vigilant watch was kept up, and no one was suffered to approach but those engaged in the affair. Allthe muskets not necessary for the command on the march were broken upand thrown into the well, together with the bags of shot, flints, gunscrews, and, in short, everything relating to weapons of offence. 

Some relief to the general feeling of despondency was afforded, by thearrival, on the 14th of August, of Captain Wells[33] with fifteenfriendly Miamis. 

Of this brave man, who forms so conspicuous a figure in our frontierannals, it is unnecessary here to say more than that he had beenresiding from his boyhood among the Indians, and consequently possesseda perfect knowledge of their character and habits. 

He had heard, at Fort Wayne, of the order for evacuating the fort atChicago, and, knowing the hostile determination of the Pottowattamies, he had made a rapid march across the country, to prevent the exposureof his relative, Captain Heald, and his troops, to certain destruction. 

But he came "all too late. " When he reached the post he found that theammunition had been destroyed, and the provisions given to the Indians. There was, therefore, now no alternative, and every preparation was madefor the march of the troops on the following morning. 

On the afternoon of the same day, a second council was held with theIndians. They expressed great indignation at the destruction of theammunition and liquor. 

Notwithstanding the precautions that had been taken to preserve secrecy, the noise of knocking in the heads of the barrels had betrayed theoperations of the preceding night; indeed, so great was the quantity ofliquor thrown into the river, that the taste of the water the nextmorning was, as one expressed it, "strong grog. "

Murmurs and threats were everywhere heard among the savages. It wasevident that the first moment of exposure would subject the troops tosome manifestation of their disappointment and resentment. 

Among the chiefs were several who, although they shared the generalhostile feeling of their tribe towards the Americans, yet retained apersonal regard for the troops at this post, and for the few whitecitizens of the place. These chiefs exerted their utmost influence toallay the revengeful feelings of the young men, and to avert theirsanguinary designs, but without effect. 

On the evening succeeding the council, _Black Partridge_, a conspicuouschief, entered the quarters of the commanding officer. 

"Father, " said he, "I come to deliver up to you the medal I wear. It wasgiven me by the Americans, and I have long worn it in token of ourmutual friendship. But our young men are resolved to imbrue their handsin the blood of the whites. I cannot restrain them, and I will not weara token of peace while I am compelled to act as an enemy. "

Had further evidence been wanting, this circumstance would havesufficiently proved to the devoted band the justice of their melancholyanticipations. Nevertheless, they went steadily on with the necessarypreparations; and, amid the horrors of their situation, there were notwanting gallant hearts, who strove to encourage, in their despondingcompanions, the hopes of escape they were far from indulging themselves. 

Of the ammunition there had been reserved but twenty-five rounds, besides one box of cartridges, contained in the baggage-wagons. Thismust, under any circumstances of danger, have proved an inadequatesupply; but the prospect of a fatiguing march, in their presentineffective state, forbade the troops embarrassing themselves with alarger quantity. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

NARRATIVE OF THE MASSACRE, CONTINUED. 

The morning of the 15th arrived. All things were in readiness, and nineo'clock was the hour named for starting. 

Mr. Kinzie, having volunteered to accompany the troops in their march, had intrusted his family to the care of some friendly Indians, whopromised to convey them in a boat around the head of Lake Michigan to apoint[34] on the St. Joseph's River, there to be joined by the troops, should the prosecution of their march be permitted them. 

Early in the morning Mr. Kinzie received a message from To-pee-nee-bee, a chief of the St. Joseph's band, informing him that mischief wasintended by the Pottowattamies who had engaged to escort the detachment, and urging him to relinquish his design of accompanying the troops byland, promising him that the boat containing himself and family shouldbe permitted to pass in safety to St. Joseph's. 

Mr. Kinzie declined acceding to this proposal, as he believed that hispresence might operate as a restraint upon the fury of the savages, sowarmly were the greater part of them attached to himself and his family. 

The party in the boat consisted of Mrs. Kinzie and her four youngerchildren, their nurse Josette, a clerk of Mr. Kinzie's, two servants andthe boatmen, besides the two Indians who acted as their protectors. Theboat started, but had scarcely reached the mouth of the river, which, itwill be recollected, was here half a mile below the fort, when anothermessenger from To-pee-nee-bee arrived to detain them where they were. There was no mistaking the reason of this detention. 

In breathless anxiety sat the wife and mother. She was a woman ofuncommon energy and strength of character, yet her heart died within heras she folded her arms around her helpless infants, and gazed upon themarch of her husband and eldest child to certain destruction. 

As the troops left the fort, the band struck up the Dead March. On theycame, in military array, but with solemn mien. Captain Wells took thelead at the head of his little band of Miamis. He had blackened his facebefore leaving the garrison, in token of his impending fate. They tooktheir route along the lake shore. When they reached the point wherecommenced a range of sand-hills intervening between the prairie and thebeach, the escort of Pottowattamies, in number about five hundred, keptthe level of the prairie, instead of continuing along the beach with theAmericans and Miamis. 

They had marched perhaps a mile and a half, when Captain Wells, who hadkept somewhat in advance with his Miamis, came riding furiously back. 

"They are about to attack us, " shouted he; "form instantly, and chargeupon them. "

Scarcely were the words uttered, when a volley was showered from amongthe sand-hills. The troops were hastily brought into line, and chargedup the bank. One man, a veteran of seventy winters, fell as theyascended. The remainder of the scene is best described in the words ofan eye-witness and participator in the tragedy, Mrs. Helm, the wife ofCaptain (then Lieutenant) Helm, and step-daughter of Mr. Kinzie. 

 * * * * *

"After we had left the bank the firing became general. The Miamis fledat the outset. Their chief rode up to the Pottowattamies, and said:

"'You have deceived the Americans and us. You have done a bad action, and (brandishing his tomahawk) I will be the first to head a party ofAmericans to return and punish your treachery. ' So saying, he gallopedafter his companions, who were now scouring across the prairies. 

"The troops behaved most gallantly. They were but a handful, but theyseemed resolved to sell their lives as dearly as possible. Our horsespranced and bounded, and could hardly be restrained as the ballswhistled among them. I drew off a little, and gazed upon my husband andfather, who were yet unharmed. I felt that my hour was come, andendeavored to forget those I loved, and prepare myself for myapproaching fate. 

"While I was thus engaged, the surgeon, Dr. Van Voorhees, came up. Hewas badly wounded. His horse had been shot under him, and he hadreceived a ball in his leg. Every muscle of his face was quivering withthe agony of terror. He said to me, 'Do you think they will take ourlives? I am badly wounded, but I think not mortally. Perhaps we mightpurchase our lives by promising them a large reward. Do you think thereis any chance?'

"'Dr. Van Voorhees, ' said I, 'do not let us waste the few moments thatyet remain to us in such vain hopes. Our fate is inevitable. In a fewmoments we must appear before the bar of God. Let us make whatpreparation is yet in our power. '

"'Oh, I cannot die!' exclaimed he, 'I am not fit to die--if I had but ashort time to prepare--death is awful!'

"I pointed to Ensign Ronan, who, though mortally wounded and nearlydown, was still fighting with desperation on one knee. [35]

"'Look at that man!' said I. 'At least he dies like a soldier. '

"'Yes, ' replied the unfortunate man, with a convulsive gasp, 'but he hasno terrors of the future--he is an unbeliever!'

"At this moment a young Indian raised his tomahawk at me. By springingaside, I partially avoided the blow, which was intended for my skull, but which alighted on my shoulder. I seized him around the neck, andwhile exerting my utmost efforts to get possession of hisscalping-knife, which hung in a scabbard over his breast, I was draggedfrom his grasp by another and older Indian. 

"The latter bore me struggling and resisting towards the lake. Notwithstanding the rapidity with which I was harried along, Irecognized, as I passed them, the lifeless remains of the unfortunatesurgeon. Some murderous tomahawk had stretched him upon the very spotwhere I had last seen him. 

"I was immediately plunged into the water and held there with a forciblehand, notwithstanding my resistance. I soon perceived, however, that theobject of my captor was not to drown me, for he held me firmly in such aposition as to place my head above water. This reassured me, and, regarding him attentively, I soon recognized, in spite of the paint withwhich he was disguised, _The Black Partridge_. 

"When the firing had nearly subsided, my preserver bore me from thewater and conducted me up the sand-banks. It was a burning Augustmorning, and walking through the sand in my drenched condition wasinexpressibly painful and fatiguing. I stooped and took off my shoes tofree them from the sand with which they were nearly filled, when a squawseized and carried them off, and I was obliged to proceed without them. 

"When we had gained the prairie, I was met by my father, who told methat my husband was safe and but slightly wounded. They led me gentlyback towards the Chicago River, along the southern bank of which was thePottowattamie encampment. At one time I was placed upon a horse withouta saddle, but, finding the motion insupportable, I sprang off. Supportedpartly by my kind conductor, _Black Partridge_, and partly by anotherIndian, Pee-so-tum, who held dangling in his hand a scalp, which by theblack ribbon around the queue I recognized as that of Captain Wells, Idragged my fainting steps to one of the wigwams. 

"The wife of Wau-bee-nee-mah, a chief from the Illinois River, wasstanding near, and, seeing my exhausted condition, she seized a kettle, dipped up some water from a stream that flowed near, [36] threw into itsome maple-sugar, and, stirring it up with her hand, gave it me todrink. This act of kindness, in the midst of so many horrors, touched memost sensibly; but my attention was soon diverted to other objects. 

"The fort had become a scene of plunder to such as remained after thetroops marched out. The cattle had been shot down as they ran at large, and lay dead or dying around. This work of butchery had commenced justas we were leaving the fort. I well remembered a remark of Ensign Ronan, as the firing went on. 'Such, ' turning to me, 'is to be our fate--to beshot down like brutes!'

"'Well, sir, ' said the commanding officer, who overheard him, 'are youafraid?'

"'No, ' replied the high-spirited young man, 'I can march up to the enemywhere you dare not show your face. ' And his subsequent gallant behaviorshowed this to be no idle boast. 

"As the noise of the firing grew gradually less and the stragglers fromthe victorious party came dropping in, I received confirmation of whatmy father had hurriedly communicated in our _rencontre_ on the lakeshore; namely, that the whites had surrendered, after the loss of abouttwo-thirds of their number. They had stipulated, through theinterpreter, Peresh Leclerc, for the preservation of their lives, andthose of the remaining women and children, and for their delivery atsome of the British posts, unless ransomed by traders in the Indiancountry. It appears that the wounded prisoners were not considered asincluded in the stipulation, and a horrid scene ensued upon their beingbrought into camp. 

"An old squaw, infuriated by the loss of friends, or excited by thesanguinary scenes around her, seemed possessed by a demoniac ferocity. She seized a stable-fork and assaulted one miserable victim, who laygroaning and writhing in the agony of his wounds, aggravated by thescorching beams of the sun. With a delicacy of feeling scarcely to havebeen expected under such circumstances, Wau-bee-nee-mah stretched a matacross two poles, between me and this dreadful scene. I was thus sparedin some degree a view of its horrors, although I could not entirelyclose my ears to the cries of the sufferer The following night five moreof the wounded prisoners were tomahawked. "

 * * * * *

The Americans, it appears, after their first attack by the Indians, charged upon those who had concealed themselves in a sort of ravine, intervening between the sand-banks and the prairie. The latter gatheredthemselves into a body, and after some hard fighting, in which thenumber of whites had become reduced to twenty-eight, this little bandsucceeded in breaking through the enemy, and gaining a rising ground, not far from the Oak Woods. Further contest now seeming hopeless, Lieutenant Helm sent Peresh Leclerc, a half-breed boy in the service ofMr. Kinzie, who had accompanied the detachment and fought manfully ontheir side, to propose terms of capitulation. It was stipulated that thelives of all the survivors should be spared, and a ransom permitted assoon as practicable. 

But in the mean time a horrible scene had been enacted. One youngsavage, climbing into the baggage-wagon containing the children of thewhite families, twelve in number, tomahawked the entire group. This wasduring the engagement near the sand-hills. When Captain Wells, who wasfighting near, beheld it, he exclaimed, --

"Is that their game, butchering the women and children? Then I willkill, too!"

So saying, he turned his horse's head, and started for the Indian camp, near the fort, where had been left their squaws and children. 

Several Indians pursued him as he galloped along. He laid himself flaton the neck of his horse, loading and firing in that position, as hewould occasionally turn on his pursuers. At length their balls tookeffect, killing his horse, and severely wounding himself. At this momenthe was met by _Winnemeg_ and _Wau-ban-see_, who endeavored to save himfrom the savages who had now overtaken him. As they supported him along, after having disengaged him from his horse, he received his death-blowfrom another Indian, _Pee-so-tum_, who stabbed him in the back. 

The heroic resolution of one of the soldiers' wives deserves to berecorded. She was a Mrs. Corbin, and had, from the first, expressed thedetermination never to fall into the hands of the savages, believingthat their prisoners were always subjected to tortures worse than death. 

When, therefore, a party came upon her, to make her a prisoner, shefought with desperation, refusing to surrender, although assured, bysigns, of safety and kind treatment, and literally suffered herself tobe cut to pieces, rather than become their captive. 

There was a Sergeant Holt, who, early in the engagement, received a ballin the neck. Finding himself badly wounded, he gave his sword to hiswife, who was on horseback near him, telling her to defend herself; hethen made for the lake, to keep out of the way of the balls. Mrs. Holtrode a very fine horse, which the Indians were desirous of possessing, and they therefore attacked her, in hopes of dismounting her. 

They fought only with the butt-ends of their guns, for their object wasnot to kill her. She hacked and hewed at their pieces as they werethrust against her, now on this side, now that. Finally, she broke loosefrom them, and dashed out into the prairie. The Indians pursued her, shouting and laughing, and now and then calling out, --

"The brave woman! do not hurt her!"

At length they overtook her again, and, while she was engaged with twoor three in front, one succeeded in seizing her by the neck behind, anddragging her, although a large and powerful woman, from her horse. Notwithstanding that their guns had been so hacked and injured, and eventhemselves cut severely, they seemed to regard her only with admiration. They took her to a trader on the Illinois River, by whom she wasrestored to her friends, after having received every kindness during hercaptivity. [37]

Those of the family of Mr. Kinzie who had remained in the boat, near themouth of the river, were carefully guarded by Kee-po-tah and anotherIndian. They had seen the smoke--then the blaze--and immediately after, the report of the first tremendous discharge sounded in their ears. Thenall was confusion They realized nothing until they saw an Indian cometowards them from the battle-ground, leading a horse on which sat alady, apparently wounded. 

"That is Mrs. Heald, " cried Mrs. Kinzie. "That Indian will kill her. Run, Chandonnai, " to one of Mr. Kinzie's clerks, "take the mule that istied there, and offer it to him to release her. "

Her captor, by this time, was in the act of disengaging her bonnet fromher head, in order to scalp her. Chandonnai ran up, and offered the muleas a ransom, with the promise of ten bottles of whiskey as soon as theyshould reach his village. The latter was a strong temptation. 

"But, " said the Indian, "she is badly wounded--she will die. Will yougive me the whiskey at all events?"

Chandonnai promised that he would, and the bargain was concluded. Thesavage placed the lady's bonnet on his own head, and, after anineffectual effort on the part of some squaws to rob her of her shoesand stockings, she was brought on board the boat, where she lay moaningwith pain from the many bullet-wounds she had received in both arms. 

The horse Mrs. Heald had ridden was a fine, spirited animal, and, beingdesirous of possessing themselves of it uninjured, the Indians had aimedtheir shots so as to disable the rider, without injuring her steed. 

She had not lain long in the boat, when a young Indian of savage aspectwas seen appapproaching buffalo robe was hastily drawn over her, and shewas admonished to suppress all sound of complaint, as she valued herlife. 

The heroic woman remained perfectly silent, while the savage drew near. He had a pistol in his hand, which he rested on the side of the boat, while, with a fearful scowl, he looked pryingly around. Black Jim, oneof the servants, who stood in the bow of the boat, seized an axe thatlay near, and signed to him that if he shot, he would cleave his skull;telling him that the boat contained only the family of Shaw-nee-aw-kee. Upon this, the Indian retired. It afterwards appeared that the object ofhis search was Mr. Burnett, a trader from St. Joseph's, with whom hehad some account to settle. 

When the boat was at length permitted to return to the mansion of Mr. Kinzie, and Mrs. Heald was removed to the house, it became necessary todress her wounds. 

Mr. K. Applied to an old chief who stood by, and who, like most of histribe, possessed some skill in surgery, to extract a ball from the armof the sufferer. 

"No, father, " replied he. "I cannot do it--it makes me sickhere"--(placing his hand on his heart. )

Mr. Kinzie then performed the operation himself, with his penknife. 

At their own mansion the family of Mr. Kinzie were closely guarded bytheir Indian friends, whose intention it was to carry them to Detroitfor security. The rest of the prisoners remained at the wigwams of theircaptors. 

The following morning, the work of plunder being completed, the Indiansset fire to the fort. A very equitable distribution of the fineryappeared to have been made, and shawls, ribbons, and feathers flutteredabout in all directions. The ludicrous appearance of one young fellow, who had arrayed himself in a muslin gown and the bonnet of one of theladies, would, under other circumstances, have afforded matter ofamusement. 

Black Partridge, Wau-ban-see, and Kee-po-tah, with two other Indians, having established themselves in the porch of the building as sentinels, to protect the family from any evil that the young men might be excitedto commit, all remained tranquil for a short space after theconflagration. 

Very soon, however, a party of Indians from the Wabash made theirappearance. These were, decidedly, the most hostile and implacable ofall the tribes of the Pottowattamies. 

Being more remote, they had shared less than some of their brethren inthe kindness of Mr. Kinzie and his family, and consequently theirsentiments of regard for them were less powerful. 

Runners had been sent to the villages to apprise them of the intendedevacuation of the post, as well as of the plan of the Indians assembledto attack the troops. 

Thirsting to participate in such a scene, they hurried on; and great wastheir mortification, on arriving at the river Aux Plaines, to meet witha party of their friends having with them their chief Nee-scot-nee-meg, badly wounded, and to learn that the battle was over, the spoilsdivided, and the scalps all taken. 

On arriving at Chicago they blackened their faces, and proceeded towardsthe dwelling of Mr. Kinzie. 

From his station on the piazza Black Partridge had watched theirapproach, and his fears were particularly awakened for the safety ofMrs. Helm (Mr. Kinzie's step-daughter), who had recently come to thepost, and was personally unknown to the more remote Indians. By hisadvice she was made to assume the ordinary dress of a Frenchwoman of thecountry; namely, a short gown and petticoat, with a blue cottonhandkerchief wrapped around her head. In this disguise she was conductedby Black Partridge himself to the house of Ouilmette, a Frenchman with ahalf-breed wife, who formed a part of the establishment of Mr. Kinzieand whose dwelling was close at hand. 

It so happened that the Indians came first to this house, in theirsearch for prisoners. As they approached, the inmates, fearful that thefair complexion and general appearance of Mrs. Helm might betray her foran American, raised a large feather bed and placed her under the edge ofit, upon the bedstead, with her face to the wall. Mrs. Bisson, ahalf-breed, the sister of Ouilmette's wife, then seated herself withher sewing upon the front of the bed. 

It was a hot day in August, and the feverish excitement of fear andagitation, together with her position, which was nearly suffocating, became so intolerable, that Mrs. Helm at length entreated to be releasedand given up to the Indians. 

"I can but die, " said she; "let them put an end to my misery at once. "

Mrs. Bisson replied, "Your death would be the destruction of us all, forBlack Partridge has resolved that if one drop of the blood of yourfamily is spilled, he will take the lives of all concerned in it, evenhis nearest friends; and if once the work of murder commences, therewill be no end of it, so long as there remains one white person orhalf-breed in the country. "

This expostulation nerved Mrs. Helm with fresh resolution. 

The Indians entered, and she could occasionally see them from herhiding-place, gliding about, and stealthily inspecting every part of theroom, though without making any ostensible search, until, apparentlysatisfied that there was no one concealed, they left the house. 

All this time Mrs. Bisson had kept her seat upon the side of the bed, calmly sorting and arranging the patch-work of the quilt on which shewas engaged, and preserving an appearance of the utmost tranquillity, although she knew not but that the next moment she might receive atomahawk in her brain. Her self-command unquestionably saved the livesof all present. 

From Ouilmette's house the party of Indians proceeded to the dwelling ofMr. Kinzie. They entered the parlor in which the family were assembledwith their faithful protectors, and seated themselves upon the floor insilence. Black Partridge perceived from their moody and revengefullooks what was passing in their minds, but he dared not remonstrate withthem. He only observed in a low tone to Wau-ban-see, --

"We have endeavored to save our friends, but it is in vain--nothing willsave them now. "

At this moment a friendly whoop was heard from a party of new-comers onthe opposite bank of the river. Black Partridge sprang to meet theirleader, as the canoes in which they had hastily embarked touched thebank near the house. 

"Who are you?" demanded he. 

"A man. Who are _you_?"

"A man like yourself. But tell me _who_ you are, "--meaning, Tell me yourdisposition, and which side you are for. 

"I am a _Sau-ga-nash_!"

"Then make all speed to the house--your friend is in danger, and youalone can save him. "

_Billy Caldwell_[38] for it was he, entered the parlor with a calm step, and without a trace of agitation in his manner. He deliberately took offhis accoutrements and placed them with his rifle behind the door, thensaluted the hostile savages. 

"How now, my friends! A good-day to you. I was told there were enemieshere, but I am glad to find only friends. Why have you blackened yourfaces? Is it that you are mourning for the friends you have lost inbattle?" (purposely misunderstanding this token of evil designs. )

"Or is it that you are fasting? If so, ask our friend, here, and hewill give you to eat. He is the Indian's friend, and never yet refusedthem what they had need of. "

Thus taken by surprise, the savages were ashamed to acknowledge theirbloody purpose. They, therefore, said modestly that they came to beg oftheir friends some white cotton in which to wrap their dead beforeinterring them. This was given to them, with some other presents, andthey took their departure peaceably from the premises. 

Along with Mr. Kinzie's party was a non-commissioned officer who hadmade his escape in a singular manner. As the troops were about leavingthe fort, it was found that the baggage-horses of the surgeon hadstrayed off. The quartermaster-sergeant, Griffith, was sent to collectthem and bring them on, it being absolutely necessary to recover them, since their packs contained part of the surgeon's apparatus, and themedicines for the march. 

This man had been for a long time on the sick report and for this reasonwas given the charge of the baggage, instead of being placed with thetroops. His efforts to recover the horses being unsuccessful, he washastening to rejoin his party, alarmed at some appearances of disorderand hostile indications among the Indians, when he was met and madeprisoner by To-pee-nee-bee. 

Having taken from him his arms and accoutrements, the chief put him intoa canoe and paddled him across the river, bidding him make for the woodsand secrete himself. This he did; and the following day, in theafternoon, seeing from his lurking-place that all appeared quiet, heventured to steal cautiously into the garden of Ouilmette, where heconcealed himself for a time behind some currant-bushes. 

At length he determined to enter the house, and accordingly climbed upthrough a small back window into the room where the family were. Thiswas just as the Wabash Indians had left the house of Ouilmette for thatof Mr. Kinzie. The danger of the sergeant was now imminent. The familystripped him of his uniform and arrayed him in a suit of deer-skin, withbelt, moccasins, and pipe, like a French engagé. His dark complexion andlarge black whiskers favored the disguise. The family were all orderedto address him in French, and, although utterly ignorant of thelanguage, he continued to pass for a _Weem-tee-gosh_, [39] and as such toaccompany Mr. Kinzie and his family, undetected by his enemies, untilthey reached a place of safety. 

On the third day after the battle, the family of Mr. Kinzie, with theclerks of the establishment, were put into a boat, under the care ofFrançois, a half-breed interpreter, and conveyed to St. Joseph's, wherethey remained until the following November, under the protection ofTo-pee-nee-bee's band. They were then conducted to Detroit, under theescort of Chandonnai and their trusty Indian friend, Kee-po-tah, anddelivered up, as prisoners of war, to Colonel McKee, the British IndianAgent. 

Mr. Kinzie was not allowed to leave St. Joseph's with his family, hisIndian friends insisting on his remaining and endeavoring to secure someremnant of his scattered property. During his excursions with them forthat purpose, he wore the costume and paint of the tribe, in order toescape capture and perhaps death at the hands of those who were stillthirsting for blood. In time, however, his anxiety for his familyinduced him to follow them to Detroit, where, in the month of January, he was received and paroled by General Proctor. 

Captain and Mrs. Heald were sent across the lake to St. Joseph the dayafter the battle. The former had received two wounds, the latter seven, in the engagement. 

Lieutenant Helm, who was likewise wounded, was carried by some friendlyIndians to their village on the Au Sable, and thence to Peoria, where hewas liberated by the intervention of Mr. Thomas Forsyth, thehalf-brother of Mr. Kinzie. Mrs. Helm accompanied her parents to St. Joseph, where they resided in the family of Alexander Robinson, [40]receiving from them all possible kindness and hospitality for severalmonths. 

After their arrival in Detroit, Mrs. Helm was joined by her husband, when they were both arrested by order of the British commander, and senton horseback, in the dead of winter, through Canada to Fort George, onthe Niagara frontier. When they arrived at that post, there had been noofficial appointed to receive them, and, notwithstanding their long andfatiguing journey in weather the most cold and inclement, Mrs. Helm, adelicate woman of seventeen years, was permitted to sit waiting in hersaddle, outside the gate, for more than an hour, before the refreshmentof fire or food, or even the shelter of a roof, was offered them. WhenColonel Sheaffe, who had been absent at the time, was informed of thisbrutal inhospitality, he expressed the greatest indignation. He waitedon Mrs. Helm immediately, apologized in the most courteous manner, andtreated both her and Lieutenant Helm with the most considerate kindness, until, by an exchange of prisoners, they were liberated, and found meansto reach their friends in Steuben County, N. Y. 

Captain Heald had been taken prisoner by an Indian from the Kankakee, who had a strong personal regard for him, and who, when he saw thewounded and enfeebled state of Mrs. Heald, released her husband that hemight accompany his wife to St. Joseph. To the latter place they wereaccordingly carried, as has been related, by Chandonnai and his party. In the mean time, the Indian who had so nobly released his prisonerreturned to his village on the Kankakee, where he had the mortificationof finding that his conduct had excited great dissatisfaction among hisband. So great was the displeasure manifested, that he resolved to makea journey to St. Joseph and reclaim his prisoner. 

News of his intention being brought to To-pee-nee-bee and Kee-po-tah, under whose care the prisoners were, they held a private council withChandonnai, Mr. Kinzie, and the principal men of the village, the resultof which was a determination to send Captain and Mrs. Heald to theisland of Mackinac, and deliver them up to the British. 

They were accordingly put in a bark canoe, and paddled by Robinson andhis wife a distance of three hundred miles along the coast of Michigan, and surrendered as prisoners of war to the commanding officer atMackinac. 

As an instance of the procrastinating spirit of Captain Heald, it may bementioned that, even after he had received certain intelligence that hisIndian captor was on his way from the Kankakee to St. Joseph to retakehim, he would still have delayed another day at that place, to makepreparation for a more comfortable journey to Mackinac. 

The soldiers, with their wives and surviving children, were dispersedamong the different villages of the Pottowattamies upon the Illinois, Wabash, Rock River, and at Milwaukie, until the following spring, whenthey were, for the most part, carried to Detroit and ransomed. 

Mrs. Burns, with her infant, became the prisoner of a chief, who carriedher to his village and treated her with great kindness. His wife, fromjealousy of the favor shown to "the white woman" and her child, alwaystreated them with great hostility. On one occasion she struck the infantwith a tomahawk, and narrowly missed her aim of putting an end to italtogether. [41] They were not left long in the power of the old hagafter this demonstration, but on the first opportunity were carried to aplace of safety. 

The family of Mr. Lee had resided in a house on the Lake shore, not farfrom the fort. Mr. Lee was the owner of Lee's Place, which he cultivatedas a farm. It was his son who ran down with the discharged soldier togive the alarm of "Indians, " at the fort, on the afternoon of the 7th ofApril. The father, the son, and all the other members of the family hadfallen victims on the 15th of August, except Mrs. Lee and her younginfant. These were claimed by Black Partridge, and carried to hisvillage on the Au Sable. He had been particularly attached to a littlegirl of Mrs. Lee's, about twelve years of age. This child had beenplaced on horseback for the march; and, as she was unaccustomed to theexercise, she was tied fast to the saddle, lest by any accident sheshould slip off or be thrown. 

She was within reach of the balls at the commencement of the engagement, and was severely wounded. The horse set off on a full gallop, whichpartly threw her, but she was held fast by the bands which confined her, and hung dangling as the animal ran violently about. In this state shewas met by Black Partridge, who caught the horse and disengaged her fromthe saddle. Finding her so much wounded that she could not recover, andthat she was suffering great agony, he put the finishing stroke to herat once with his tomahawk. He afterwards said that this was the hardestthing he ever tried to do, but he did it because he could not bear tosee her suffer. 

He took the mother and her infant to his village, where he became warmlyattached to the former--so much so, that he wished to marry her; but, asshe very naturally objected, he treated her with the greatest respectand consideration. He was in no hurry to release her, for he was inhopes of prevailing on her to become his wife. In the course of thewinter her child fell ill. Finding that none of the remedies withintheir reach were effectual, Black Partridge proposed to take the littleone to Chicago, where there was now a French trader living in themansion of Mr. Kinzie, and procure some medical aid from him. Wrappingup his charge with the greatest care, he set out on his journey. 

When he arrived at the residence of M. Du Pin, he entered the room wherehe was, and carefully placed his burden on the floor. 

"What have you there?" asked M. Du Pin. 

"A young raccoon, which I have brought you as a present, " was the reply;and, opening the pack, he showed the little sick infant. 

When the trader had prescribed for its complaint, and Black Partridgewas about to return to his home, he told his friend of the proposal hehad made to Mrs. Lee to become his wife, and the manner in which it hadbeen received. 

M. Du Pin, entertaining some fears that the chief's honorable resolutionto leave it to the lady herself whether to accept his addresses or not, might not hold out, entered at once into a negotiation for her ransom, and so effectually wrought upon the good feelings of Black Partridgethat he consented to bring his fair prisoner at once to Chicago, thatshe might be restored to her friends. 

Whether the kind trader had at the outset any other feeling in thematter than sympathy and brotherly kindness, we cannot say; we only knowthat in process of time Mrs. Lee became Madame Du Pin, and that theworthy couple lived together in great happiness for many years after. 

The fate of Nau-non-gee, one of the chiefs of the Calumet village, andwho is mentioned in the early part of the narrative, deserves to berecorded. 

Daring the battle of the 15th of August, the chief object of his attackwas one Sergeant Hays, a man from whom he had received many acts ofkindness. 

After Hays had received a ball through the body, this Indian ran up tohim to tomahawk him, when the sergeant, collecting his remainingstrength, pierced him through the body with his bayonet. They felltogether. Other Indians running up soon dispatched Hays, and it was notuntil then that his bayonet was extracted from the body of hisadversary. 

The wounded chief was carried after the battle to his village on theCalumet, where he survived for several days. Finding his endapproaching, he called together his young men, and enjoined them, in themost solemn manner, to regard the safety of their prisoners after hisdeath, and to take the lives of none of them from respect to his memory, as he deserved his fate from the hands of those whose kindness he had soill requited. 

CHAPTER XX. 

CAPTIVITY OF J. KINZIE, SEN. --AN AMUSING MISTAKE. 

It had been a stipulation of General Hull at the surrender of Detroit, which took place the day after the massacre at Chicago, that theinhabitants should be permitted to remain undisturbed in their homes. Accordingly, the family of Mr. Kinzie took up their quarters with theirfriends in the old mansion, which many will still recollect as standingon the northwest corner of Jefferson Avenue and Wayne Street. 

The feelings of indignation and sympathy were constantly aroused in thehearts of the citizens during the winter that ensued. They were almostdaily called upon to witness the cruelties practised upon the Americanprisoners brought in by their Indian captors. Those who could scarcelydrag their wounded, bleeding feet over the frozen ground, were compelledto dance for the amusement of the savages; and these exhibitionssometimes took place before the Government House, the residence ofColonel McKee. Some of the British officers looked on from their windowsat these heart-rending performances; for the honor of humanity, we willhope such instances were rare. 

Everything that could be made available among the effects of thecitizens was offered, to ransom their countrymen from the hands of theseinhuman beings. The prisoners brought in from the River Raisin--thoseunfortunate men who were permitted, after their surrender to GeneralProctor, to be tortured and murdered by inches by his savageallies--excited the sympathies and called for the action of the wholecommunity. Private houses were turned into hospitals, and every one wasforward to get possession of as many as possible of the survivors. Toeffect this, even the articles of their apparel were bartered by theladies of Detroit, as they watched from their doors or windows themiserable victims carried about for sale. 

In the dwelling of Mr. Kinzie one large room was devoted to thereception of the sufferers. Few of them survived. Among those spoken ofas objects of the deepest interest were two young gentlemen of Kentucky, brothers, both severely wounded, and their wounds aggravated to a mortaldegree by subsequent ill usage and hardships. Their solicitude for eachother, and their exhibition in various ways of the most tender fraternalaffection, created an impression never to be forgotten. 

The last bargain made was by black Jim, and one of the children, who hadpermission to redeem a negro servant of the gallant Colonel Allen, withan old white horse, the only available article that remained among theirpossessions. 

A brother of Colonel Allen afterwards came to Detroit, and the negropreferred returning to servitude rather than remaining a stranger in astrange land. 

Mr. Kinzie, as has been related, joined his family at Detroit in themonth of January. A short time after, suspicions arose in the mind ofGeneral Proctor that he was in correspondence with General Harrison, whowas now at Fort Meigs, and who was believed to be meditating an advanceupon Detroit. Lieutenant Watson, of the British army, waited upon Mr. Kinzie one day with an invitation to the quarters of General Proctor onthe opposite side of the river, saying he wished to speak with him, onbusiness. Quite unsuspicious, he complied with the invitation, when tohis surprise he was ordered into confinement, and strictly guarded inthe house of his former partner, Mr. Patterson, of Sandwich. Findingthat he did not return to his home, Mrs. Kinzie informed some of theIndian chiefs, his particular friends, who immediately repaired to thehead-quarters of the commanding officer, demanded "their friend's"release, and brought him back to his home. After waiting a time until afavorable opportunity presented itself, the General sent a detachment ofdragoons to arrest Mr. Kinzie. They had succeeded in carrying him away, and crossing the river with him. Just at this moment a party of friendlyIndians made their appearance. 

"Where is the Shaw-nee-aw-kee?" was the first question. 

"There, " replied his wife, pointing across the river, "in the hands ofthe red-coats, who are taking him away again. "

The Indians ran to the river, seized some canoes that they found there, and, crossing over to Sandwich, compelled General Proctor a second timeto forego his intentions. 

A third time this officer made the attempt, and succeeded in arrestingMr. Kinzie and conveying him heavily ironed to Fort Malden, in Canada, at the mouth of the Detroit River. Here he was at first treated withgreat severity, but after a time the rigor of his confinement wassomewhat relaxed, and he was permitted to walk on the bank of the riverfor air and exercise. 

On the 10th of September, as he was taking his promenade under the closesupervision of a guard of soldiers, the whole party were startled by thesound of guns upon Lake Erie, at no great distance below. What could itmean? It must be Commodore Barclay firing into some of the Yankees. Thefiring continued. The time allotted the prisoner for his daily walkexpired, but neither he nor his guard observed the lapse of time, soanxiously were they listening to what they now felt sure was anengagement between ships of war. At length Mr. Kinzie was reminded thatthe hour for his return to confinement had arrived. He petitioned foranother half-hour. 

"Let me stay, " said he, "till we can learn how the battle has gone. "

Very soon a sloop appeared under press of sail, rounding the point, andpresently two gun-boats in chase of her. 

"She is running--she bears the British colors, " cried he--"yes, yes, they are lowering--she is striking her flag! Now, " turning to thesoldiers, "I will go back to prison contented--I know how the battle hasgone. "

The sloop was the Little Belt, the last of the squadron captured by thegallant Perry on that memorable occasion which he announced in theimmortal words:

"We have met the enemy, and they are ours!"

Matters were growing critical, and it was necessary to transfer allprisoners to a place of greater security than the frontier was nowlikely to be. It was resolved therefore to send Mr. Kinzie to themother-country. Nothing has ever appeared which would explain the courseof General Proctor in regard to this gentleman. He had been taken fromthe bosom of his family, where he was living quietly under the parolewhich he had received, and protected by the stipulations of thesurrender. He was kept for months in confinement. Now he was placed onhorseback under a strong guard, who announced that they had orders toshoot him through the head if he offered to speak to a person upon theroad. He was tied upon the saddle to prevent his escape, and thus theyset out for Quebec. A little incident occurred, which will help toillustrate the course invariably pursued towards our citizens, at thisperiod, by the British army on the Northwestern frontier. 

The saddle on which Mr. Kinzie rode had not been properly fastened, and, owing to the rough motion of the animal on which it was, it turned, soas to bring the rider into a most awkward and painful position. Hislimbs being fastened, he could not disengage himself, and in this mannerhe was compelled by those who had charge of him to ride until he wasnearly exhausted, before they had the humanity to release him. 

Arrived at Quebec, he was put on board a small vessel to be sent toEngland. The vessel when a few days out at sea was chased by an Americanfrigate and driven into Halifax. A second time she set sail, when shesprung a leak and was compelled to put back. 

The attempt to send him across the ocean was now abandoned, and he wasreturned to Quebec. Another step, equally inexplicable with his arrest, was soon after taken. This was, his release and that of Mr. Macomb, ofDetroit, who was also in confinement in Quebec, and the permission giventhem to return to their friends and families, although the war was notyet ended. It may possibly be imagined that in the treatment thesegentlemen received, the British commander-in-chief sheltered himselfunder the plea of their being "native-born British subjects, " andperhaps when it was ascertained that Mr. Kinzie was indeed a citizen ofthe United States it was thought safest to release him. 

In the mean time, General Harrison at the head of his troops had reachedDetroit. He landed on the 29th of September. All the citizens went forthto meet him--Mrs. Kinzie, leading her children by the hand, was of thenumber. The General accompanied her to her home, and took up his abodethere. On his arrival he was introduced to Kee-po-tah, who happened tobe on a visit to the family at that time. The General had seen the chiefthe preceding year, at the Council at Vincennes, and the meeting was oneof great cordiality and interest. 

 * * * * *

In 1816, Mr. Kinzie and his family again returned to Chicago. The fortwas rebuilt on a somewhat larger scale than the former one. It was notuntil the return of the troops that the bones of the unfortunateAmericans who had been massacred four years before, were collected andburied. 

An Indian Agency, under the charge of Charles Jewett, Esq. , of Kentucky, was established. He was succeeded in 1820 by Dr. Alexander Wolcott, ofConnecticut, who occupied that position until his death in 1830. 

The troops were removed from the garrison in 1823, but restored in 1828, after the Winnebago war. This was a disturbance between the Winnebagoesand white settlers on and near the Mississippi. After some murders hadbeen committed, the young chief, Red Bird, was taken and imprisoned atPrairie du Chien to await his trial, where he committed suicide inconsequence of chagrin and the irksomeness of confinement. It was fearedthat the Pottowattamies would make common cause with the Winnebagoes, and commence a general system of havoc and bloodshed on the frontier. They were deterred from such a step, probably, by the exertions of BillyCaldwell, Robinson, and Shaw-bee-nay, who made an expedition among theRock River bands, to argue and persuade them into remaining tranquil. 

The few citizens of Chicago in those days, lived for the most part avery quiet, unvaried life. The great abundance of game, and the immensefertility of the lands they cultivated, furnished them with asuperabundance of all the luxuries of garden, corn-field, and dairy Thequestion was once asked by a friend in the "East countrie, "

"How do you dispose of all the good things you raise? You have nomarket?" "No. " "And you cannot consume them all yourselves?" "No. " "Whatthen do you do with them?"

"Why, we manage, when a vessel arrives, to persuade the captain toaccept a few kegs of butter, and stores of corn and vegetables, as apresent, and that helps us to get rid of some of our overplus. "

The mails arrived, as may be supposed, at very rare intervals. They werebrought occasionally from Fort Clark (Peoria), but more frequently fromFort Wayne, or across the peninsula of Michigan, which was still awilderness peopled with savages. The hardy adventurer who acted asexpress was, not unfrequently, obliged to imitate the birds of heavenand "lodge among the branches, " in order to insure the safety of himselfand his charge. 

Visitors were very rare, unless it was a friend who came to sojourn forseveral months and share a life in the wilderness. A traveller, however, occasionally found his way to the spot, in passing to or from "partsunknown, " and such a one was sure of a hospitable and hearty welcome. 

A gentleman journeying from the southern settlements once arrived latein the evening at Wolf Point, where was then the smalltrading-establishment of George Hunt and a Mr. Wallace. He stopped andinquired if he could have accommodation for the night for himself andhis horse. The answer was, that they were ill provided to entertain astranger--the house was small, and they were keeping "bachelor's hall. "

"Is there no place, " inquired the traveller, "where I can obtain alodging?"

"Oh, yes--you will find a very comfortable house, Mr. Kinzie's, abouthalf a mile below, near the mouth of the river. "

The stranger turned his horse's head and took the road indicated. Arrived at the spot, his first inquiry was, --

"Is this the residence of Mr. Kinzie?"

"Yes, sir. "

"I should be glad to get accommodation for myself and horse. "

"Certainly, sir--walk in. "

The horse was taken to the stable, while the gentleman was ushered intoa parlor where were two ladies. The usual preliminary questions andanswers were gone through, for in a new country people soon becomeacquainted, and the gentleman ere long found himself seated at acomfortable hot supper--we will venture to say a fine supper, since thetable in this domestic establishment has always been somewhat famous. 

Apparently, the gentleman enjoyed it, for he made himself quite at home. He even called for a boot-jack after tea, and drew off his boots. Theladies were a little surprised, but they had lived a good while out ofthe world, and they did not know what changes in etiquette might havetaken place during their retirement. 

Before taking his leave for the night, the traveller signified what itwould please him to have for breakfast, which was duly prepared. Thenext day proved stormy. The gentleman was satisfied with his quarters, and, having taken care to ascertain that there was no neglect ordeficiency of accommodation so far as his horse was concerned, he gotthrough the day very comfortably. 

Now and then, when he was tired of reading, he would converse with thefamily, and seemed, upon the whole, by no means disposed to hold himselfaloof, but to indulge in a little becoming sociability, seeing they wereall there away in the woods. 

The second day the weather brightened. The traveller signified hisintention to depart. He ordered his horse to the door--then he calledfor his bill. 

"My house is not a tavern, sir, " was the astounding reply. 

"Not a tavern! Good heavens! have I been making myself at home in thismanner in a private family?"

He was profuse in his apologies, which, however, were quite unnecessary, for the family had perceived from the first the mistake he had falleninto, and they had amused themselves during his whole visit inanticipating the consternation of their guest when he should beundeceived. 

 * * * * *

It was in the year 1816 (the year of the rebuilding of the fort, afterits destruction by the Indians) that the tract of land on which Chicagostands, together with the surrounding country, was ceded to the UnitedStates by the Pottowattamies. They remained the peaceful occupants ofit, however, for twenty years longer. It was not until 1836 that theywere removed by Government to lands appropriated for their use on theUpper Missouri. 

In the year 1830 the town of Chicago was laid out into lots byCommissioners appointed by the State. At this time the prices of theselots ranged from ten to sixty dollars. 

 * * * * *

Mr. Kinzie, who, from the geographical position of this place, and thevast fertility of the surrounding country, had always foretold itseventual prosperity and importance, was not permitted to witness therealization of his predictions. He closed his useful and energetic lifeon the 6th of January, 1828, having just completed his sixty-fifth year. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

A SERMON. 

Chicago was not, at the period of my first visit, the cheerful, happyplace it had once been. The death of Dr. Wolcott, of Lieutenant Furman, and of a promising young son of Mr. Beaubien, all within a few weeks ofeach other, had thrown a gloom over the different branches of the socialcircle. 

The weather, too, was inclement and stormy beyond anything that had beenknown before. Only twice, during a period of two months, did the sunshine out through the entire day. So late as the second week in April, when my husband had left to return to Fort Winnebago, the storms were sosevere that he and his men were obliged to lie by two or three days inan Indian lodge. 

Robert Kinzie, Medard Beaubien, and Billy Caldwell had gone at the sametime to the Calumet to hunt, and, as they did not make their appearancefor many days, we were persuaded they had perished with cold. Theyreturned at length, however, to our infinite joy, having only escapedfreezing by the forethought of Robert and Caldwell in carrying each twoblankets instead of one. 

Our only recreation was an occasional ride on horseback, when theweather would permit, through the woods on the north side of the river, or across the prairie, along the lake shore on the south. 

When we went in the former direction, a little bridle-path took us alongwhat is now Rush Street. The thick boughs of the trees arched over ourheads, and we were often compelled, as we rode, to break away theprojecting branches of the shrubs which impeded our path. The littleprairie west of Wright's Woods was the usual termination of our ride inthis direction. 

When we chose the path across the prairie towards the south, wegenerally passed a new-comer, Dr. Harmon, superintending theconstruction of a _sod fence_, at a spot he had chosen, near the shoreof the lake. In this inclosure he occupied himself, as the seasonadvanced, in planting fruit-stones of all descriptions, to make ready agarden and orchard for future enjoyment. 

We usually stopped to have a little chat. The two favorite themes of theDoctor were horticulture, and the certain future importance of Chicago. That it was destined to be a great city, was his unalterable conviction;and in deed, by this time, all forest and prairie as it was, we halfbegan to believe it ourselves. 

On the pleasant afternoons which we occasionally enjoyed as the seasonadvanced, we found no small amusement in practising pistol-firing. Theplace appropriated to this sport was outside the pickets, the mark beingplaced on a panel in one of the bastions. The gentlemen must not beoffended if I record that, in process of time, the ladies acquired adegree of skill that enabled them, as a general thing, to come offtriumphant. One of the ladies, Mrs. Hunter, was a great shot, havingbrought down her grouse on the wing, to the no small delight of one ofthe officers, Captain Martin Scott, of raccoon celebrity. 

Now and then there was a little excitement within the fort, aroused bythe discovery that _a settler_ had been engaged in selling milk-punch, instead of milk, to the soldiers, thereby interfering in no small degreewith the regularity and perfect discipline of the service. The firststep was to "drum out" the offender with all the honors of war--that is, with a party-colored dress, and the Rogue's March played behind him. Thenext, to place all the victims of this piece of deception in theguard-house, where the commanding officer's lady supplied thembountifully with coffee and hot cakes, by way of opening their eyes tothe enormity of their offence. It is not to be wondered at that theofficers sometimes complained of its being more of a strife with thesoldiers who should get into the guard-house, than who should keep outof it. The poor fellows knew when they were well off. 

Once, upon a Sunday, we were rowed up to Wolf Point to attend areligious service, conducted by Father See, as he was called. 

We saw a tall, slender man, dressed in a green frock-coat, from thesleeves of which dangled a pair of hands giving abundant evidence, together with the rest of his dress, that he placed small faith in theaxiom--"cleanliness is a part of holiness. "

He stepped briskly upon a little platform behind a table, and commencedhis discourse. His subject was, "The fear of God. "

"There was a kind of fear, " he told us, "that was very nearlya_lee_-a-nated to love: so nearly, that it was not worth while splittinghairs for the difference. " He then went on to describe this kind offear. He grew more and more involved as he proceeded with hisdescription until at length, quite bewildered, he paused, and exclaimed, "Come, let's stop a little while, and clear away the brush. " Heunravelled, as well as he was able, the tangled thread of his ideas, and went on with his subject. But soon, again losing his way, he came toa second halt. "Now, " said he, wiping the perspiration from his foreheadwith a red cotton handkerchief many degrees from clean, "now, suppose wedrive back a little piece. " Thus he recapitulated what he wished toimpress upon us, of the necessity of cherishing a fear that maketh wiseunto salvation, "which fear, " said he, "may we all enjoy, that togetherwe may soar away, on the rolling clouds of aether, to a boundless andhappy eternity, which is the wish of your humble servant. " And, flourishing abroad his hands, with the best of dancing-school bows, hetook his seat. 

It will be readily imagined that we felt our own religious exercises athome to be more edifying than such as this, and that we confinedourselves to them for the future. 

The return of our brother, Robert Kinzie, from Palestine (not the HolyLand, but the seat of the Land Office), with the certificate of thetitle of the family to that portion of Chicago since known as "Kinzie'sAddition, " was looked upon as establishing a home for us at some futureday, if the glorious dreams of good Dr. Harmon, and a few others, shouldcome to be realized. One little incident will show how moderate were theanticipations of most persons at that period. 

The certificate, which was issued in Robert's name (he representing thefamily in making the application), described only a fractionalquarter-section of one hundred and two acres, instead of one hundred andsixty acres, the river and Lake Michigan cutting off fifty-eight acreson the southern and eastern lines of the quarter. The applicants hadliberty to select their complement of fifty-eight acres out of anyunappropriated land that suited them. 

"Now, my son, " said his mother to Robert, "lay your claim on thecorn-field at Wolf Point. It is fine land, and will always be valuablefor cultivation; besides, as it faces down the main river, the situationwill always be a convenient one. "

The answer was a hearty laugh. "Hear mother!" said Robert. "We have justgot a hundred and two acres--more than we shall ever want, or know whatto do with, and now she would have me go and claim fifty-eight acresmore!"

"Take my advice, my boy, " repeated his mother, "or you may live one dayto regret it. "

"Well, I cannot see how I can ever regret not getting more than we canpossibly make use of. " And so the matter ended. The fifty-eight acreswere never claimed, and there was, I think, a very general impressionthat asking for our just rights in the case would have a very grasping, covetous look. How much wiser five-and-twenty years have made us!

 * * * * *

During my sojourn of two months at Chicago, our mother often entertainedme with stories of her early life and adventures. The following is herhistory of her captivity among the Senecas, which I have put in the formof a tale, although without the slightest variation from the facts as Ireceived them from her lips, and those of her sister, Mrs. WilliamForsyth, of Sandwich (C. W. ), the little Maggie of the story. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

THE CAPTIVES. 

It is well known that previous to the war of the Revolution the whole ofthe western portion of Pennsylvania was inhabited by different Indiantribes. Of these, the Delawares were the friends of the whites, and, after the commencement of the great struggle, took part with the UnitedStates. The Iroquois, on the contrary, were the friends and allies ofthe mother-country. 

Very few white settlers had ventured beyond the Susquehanna. Thenumerous roving bands of Shawanoes, Nanticokes, etc. , although at timesprofessing friendship with the Americans and acting in concert with theDelawares or Lenape as allies, at others suffered themselves to beseduced by their neighbors, the Iroquois, to show a most sanguinaryspirit of hostility. 

For this reason, the life of the inhabitants of the frontier was one ofconstant peril and alarm. Many a scene of dismal barbarity was enacted, as the history of the times testifies, and even those who feltthemselves in some measure protected by their immediate neighbors, theDelawares, never lost sight of the caution required by their exposedsituation. 

The vicinity of the military garrison at Pittsburg--or Fort Pitt, as itwas then called--gave additional security to those who had pushedfarther west, among the fertile valleys of the Alleghany andMonongahela. Among these were the family of Mr. Lytle, who, some yearsprevious to the opening of our story, had removed from Baltimore toPath Valley, near Carlisle, and subsequently settled himself on thebanks of Plum River, a tributary of the Alleghany. Here, with his wifeand five children, he had continued to live in comfort and security, undisturbed by any hostile visit, and only annoyed by occasional falsealarms from his more timorous neighbors, who, having had more experiencein frontier life, were prone to anticipate evil, as well as to magnifyevery appearance of danger. 

 * * * * *

On a bright afternoon in the autumn of 1779, two children of Mr. Lytle, a girl of nine, and her brother, two years younger, were playing in alittle dingle or hollow in the rear of their father's house. Some largetrees, which had been recently felled, were lying here and there, stilluntrimmed of their branches, and many logs, prepared for fuel, werescattered around. Upon one of these the children, wearied with theirsports, seated themselves, and to beguile the time they fell intoconversation upon a subject that greatly perplexed them. 

While playing in the same place a few hours previous, they had imaginedthey saw an Indian lurking behind one of the fallen trees. The Indiansof the neighborhood were in the habit of making occasional visits to thefamily, and they had become familiar and even affectionate with many ofthem, but this seemed a stranger, and after the first hasty glance theyfled in alarm to the house. 

Their mother chid them for the report they brought, which she endeavoredto convince them was without foundation. "You know, " said she, "you arealways alarming us unnecessarily: the neighbors' children havefrightened you to death. Go back to your play, and learn to be morecourageous. "

So the children returned to their sports, hardly persuaded by theirmother's arguments. While they were thus seated upon the trunk of thetree, their discourse was interrupted by the note, apparently, of aquail not far off. 

"Listen, " said the boy, as a second note answered the first; "do youhear that?"

"Yes, " was the reply, and, after a few moments' silence, "do you nothear a rustling among the branches of the tree yonder?"

"Perhaps it is a squirrel--but look! what is that? Surely I sawsomething red among the branches. It looked like a fawn popping up itshead. "

At this moment, the children, who had been gazing so intently in thedirection of the fallen tree that all other objects were forgotten, feltthemselves seized from behind and pinioned in an iron grasp. What weretheir horror and dismay to find themselves in the arms of savages, whoseterrific countenances and gestures plainly showed them to be enemies!

They made signs to the children to be silent, on pain of death, andhurried them off, half dead with terror, in a direction leading fromtheir father's habitation. After travelling some distance in profoundsilence, the severity of their captors somewhat relaxed, and as nightapproached the party halted, after adopting the usual precautions tosecure themselves against a surprise. 

In an agony of uncertainty and terror, torn from their beloved home andparents, and anticipating all the horrors with which the rumors of thetimes had invested a captivity among the Indians--perhaps even atorturing death--the poor children could no longer restrain their grief, but gave vent to sobs and lamentations. 

Their distress appeared to excite the compassion of one of the party, aman of mild aspect, who approached and endeavored to soothe them. Hespread them a couch of the long grass which grew near theencamping-place, offered them a portion of his own stock of dried meatand parched corn, and gave them to understand by signs that no fartherevil was intended them. 

These kindly demonstrations were interrupted by the arrival of anotherparty of the enemy, bringing with them the mother of the littleprisoners, with her youngest child, an infant of three months old. 

It had so happened that the father of the family, with his serving-men, had gone early in the day to a _raising_ at a few miles' distance, andthe house had thus been left without a defender. The long period oftranquillity which they had enjoyed, free from all molestation or alarmfrom the savages, had thrown the settlers quite off their guard, andthey had recently laid aside some of the caution they had formerlydeemed necessary. 

These Indians, by lying in wait, had found the favorable moment forseizing the defenceless family and making them prisoners. Judging fromtheir paint, and other marks by which the early settlers learned todistinguish the various tribes, Mrs. Lytle conjectured that those intowhose hands she and her children had fallen were Senecas. Nor was shemistaken. It was a party of that tribe who had descended from theirvillage with the intention of falling upon some isolated band of theirenemies, the Delawares, but failing in this, had made themselves amendsby capturing a few white settlers. 

It is to be attributed to the generally mild disposition of this tribe, together with the magnanimous character of the chief who accompanied theparty, that their prisoners in the present instance escaped the fate ofmost of the Americans who were so unhappy as to fall into the hands ofthe Iroquois. 

The children learned from their mother that she was profoundly ignorantof the fate of their remaining brother and sister, a boy of six and alittle girl of four years of age, but she was in hopes they had madegood their escape with the servant-girl, who had likewise disappearedfrom the commencement. 

After remaining a few hours to recruit the exhausted frames of theprisoners, the savages again started on their march, one of the olderIndians offering to relieve the mother from the burden of her infant, which she had hitherto carried in her arms. Pleased with the unexpectedkindness, she resigned to him her tender charge. 

Thus they pursued their way, the savage who carried the infant lingeringsomewhat behind the rest of the party, until, finding a spot convenientfor his purpose, he grasped his innocent victim by the feet, and, withone whirl, to add strength to the blow, dashed out its brains against atree. Leaving the body upon the spot, he rejoined the party. 

The mother, unsuspicious of what had passed, regarded him earnestly ashe reappeared without the child--then gazed wildly around on the rest ofthe group. Her beloved little one was not there. Its absence spoke itsfate; but, suppressing the shriek of agony, for she knew that the livesof the remaining ones depended upon her firmness in that trying hour, she drew them yet closer to her and pursued her melancholy way without aword spoken or a question asked. 

From the depths of her heart she cried unto Him who is able to save, andHe comforted her with hopes of deliverance for the surviving ones, forshe saw that if blood had been their sole object the scalps of herselfand her children would have been taken upon the spot where they weremade prisoners. 

She read too in the eyes of one who was evidently the commander of theparty an expression more merciful than she had even dared to hope. Particularly had she observed his soothing manner and manifestpartiality towards her eldest child, the little girl of whom we havespoken, and she built many a bright hope of escape or ransom upon theseslender foundations. 

After a toilsome and painful march of many days, the party reached theSeneca village, upon the head-waters of the Alleghany, near what is nowcalled Olean Point. On their arrival the chief, their conductor, who wasdistinguished by the name of the _Big White Man_[42] led his prisonersto the principal lodge. This was occupied by his mother, the widow ofthe head-chief of that band, and who was called by them the _Old Queen_. 

On entering her presence, her son presented her the little girl, saying, --

"My mother, I bring you a child to supply the place of my brother, whowas killed by the Lenape six moons ago. She shall dwell in my lodge, andbe to me a sister. Take the white woman and her children and treat themkindly--our father will give us many horses and guns to buy them backagain. "

He referred to the British Indian Agent of his tribe, Colonel Johnson, an excellent and benevolent gentleman, who resided at Port Niagara, onthe British side of the river of that name. 

The old queen fulfilled the injunctions of her son. She received theprisoners, and every comfort was provided them that her simple andprimitive mode of life rendered possible. 

 * * * * *

We must now return to the place and period at which our story commences. 

Late in the evening of that day the father returned to his dwelling. Allwithin and around was silent and desolate. No trace of a living creaturewas to be found throughout the house or grounds. His nearest neighborslived at a considerable distance, but to them he hastened, franticallydemanding tidings of his family. 

As he aroused them from their slumbers, one and another joined him inthe search, and at length, at the house of one of them, was found theservant-maid who had effected her escape. Her first place of refuge, shesaid, had been a large brewing-tub in an outer kitchen, under which shehad, at the first alarm, secreted herself until the departure of theIndians, who were evidently in haste, gave her an opportunity of fleeingto a place of safety. She could give no tidings of her mistress and thechildren, except that they had not been murdered in her sight orhearing. 

At length, having scoured the neighborhood without success, Mr. Lytleremembered an old settler who lived alone, far up the valley. Thither heand his friends immediately repaired, and from him they learned that, being at work in his field just before sunset, he had seen a party ofstrange Indians passing at a short distance from his cabin. As theywound along the brow of the hill, he could perceive that they hadprisoners with them--a woman and a child. The woman he knew to be awhite, as she carried her infant in her arms, instead of upon her back, after the manner of the savages. 

Day had now begun to break, for the night had been passed in fruitlesssearches, and the agonized father, after a consultation with his kindfriends and neighbors, accepted their offer to accompany him to FortPitt to ask advice and assistance of the commandant and Indian Agent atthat place. 

Proceeding down the valley, as they approached a hut which the nightbefore they had found apparently deserted, they were startled byobserving two children standing upon the high bank in front of it. Thedelighted father recognized two of his missing flock, but no tidingscould they give him of their mother and the other lost ones. Their storywas simple and touching. 

They were playing in the garden, when they were alarmed by seeing theIndians enter the yard near the house. Unperceived by them, the brother, who was but six years of age, helped his little sister over the fenceinto a field overrun with bushes of the blackberry and wild raspberry. They concealed themselves among these for awhile, and then, finding allquiet, they attempted to force their way to the side of the fieldfarthest from the house. Unfortunately, the little girl in her play inthe garden had pulled off her shoes and stockings, and the brierstearing and wounding her tender feet, she with difficulty could refrainfrom crying out. Her brother took off his stockings and put them on herfeet. He attempted, too, to protect them with his shoes, but they weretoo large, and kept slipping off, so that she could not wear them. For atime, they persevered in making what they considered their escape fromcertain death, for, as I have said, the children had been taught, by thetales they had heard, to regard all strange Indians as ministers oftorture, and of horrors worse than death. Exhausted with pain andfatigue, the poor little girl at length declared she could go nofarther. 

"Then, Maggie, " said her brother, "I must kill you, for I cannot letyou be killed by the Indians. "

"Oh, no, Thomas!" pleaded she, "do not, pray do not kill me! I do notthink the Indians will find us. "

"Oh, yes, they will, Maggie, and I could kill you so much easier thanthey would. '"

For a long time he endeavored to persuade her, and even looked about fora stick sufficiently large for his purpose; but despair gave the littlecreature strength, and she promised her brother that she would neithercomplain nor falter, if he would assist her in making her way out of thefield. 

The idea of the little boy that he could save his sister from savagebarbarity by taking her life himself, shows what tales of horror thechildren of the early settlers were familiar with. 

After a few more efforts, they made their way out of the field, into anuninclosed pasture-ground, where, to their great delight, they saw somecows feeding. They recognized them as belonging to Granny Myers, an oldwoman who lived at some little distance, but in what direction from theplace they then were, they were utterly ignorant. 

With a sagacity beyond his years, the boy said, --

"Let us hide ourselves till sunset, when the cows will go home, and wewill follow them. "

They did so, but, to their dismay, when they reached Granny Myers's theyfound the house deserted. The old woman had been called by some businessdown the valley, and did not return that night. 

Tired and hungry, they could go no farther, but, after an almostfruitless endeavor to get some milk from the cows, they laid themselvesdown to sleep under an old bedstead that stood behind the house. Theirfather and his party had caused them additional terror in the night. Theshouts and calls which had been designed to arouse the inmates of thehouse, they had mistaken for the whoop of the Indians, and, not beingable to distinguish friends from foes, they had crept close to oneanother, as far out of sight as possible. When found the followingmorning, they were debating what course to take next, for safety. 

The commandant at Fort Pitt entered warmly into the affairs of Mr. Lytle, and readily furnished him with a detachment of soldiers, to aidhim and his friends in the pursuit of the marauders. Some circumstanceshaving occurred to throw suspicion upon the Senecas, the party soondirected their search among the villages of that tribe. 

Their inquiries were prosecuted in various directions, and always withgreat caution, for all the tribes of the Iroquois, or, as they pompouslycalled themselves, the Five Nations, being allies of Great Britain, wereinveterate in their hostility to the Americans. Thus, some time elapsedbefore the father with his attendants reached the village of the _BigWhite Man_. 

A treaty was immediately entered into for the ransom of the captives, which was easily accomplished in regard to Mrs. Lytle and the youngerchild. But no offers, no entreaties, no promises, could procure therelease of the little Eleanor, the adopted child of the tribe. "No, " thechief said, "she was his sister; he had taken her to supply the place ofhis brother who was killed by the enemy--she was dear to him, and hewould not part with her. "

Finding every effort unavailing to shake this resolution, the father wascompelled to take his sorrowful departure with such of his beloved onesas he had had the good fortune to recover. 

We will not attempt to depict the grief of parents compelled thus togive up a darling child, and to leave her in the hands of savages, whomuntil now they had too much reason to regard as merciless. But there wasno alternative. Commending her to the care of their heavenly Father, andcheered by the manifest tenderness with which she had thus far beentreated, they set out on their melancholy journey homeward, trustingthat some future effort would be more effectual for the recovery oftheir little girl. 

Having placed his family in safety at Pittsburg, Mr. Lytle, stillassisted by the commandant and the Indian Agent, undertook an expeditionto the frontier to the residence of the British Agent, Colonel Johnson. His representation of the case warmly interested the feelings of thatbenevolent officer, who promised him to spare no exertions in hisbehalf. This promise he religiously performed. He went in person to thevillage of the Big White Man, as soon as the opening of the springpermitted, and offered him many splendid presents of guns and horses, but the chief was inexorable. 

Time rolled on, and every year the hope of recovering the little captivebecame more faint. She, in the mean time, continued to wind herself moreand more closely around the heart of her Indian brother. Nothing couldexceed the consideration and affection with which she was treated, notonly by himself, but by his mother, the _Old Queen_. All their stock ofbrooches and wampum was employed in the decoration of her person. Theprincipal seat and the most delicate viands were invariably reserved forher, and no efforts were spared to promote her happiness, and to renderher forgetful of her former home and kindred. 

Thus, though she had beheld, with a feeling almost amounting to despair, the departure of her parents and dear little brother, and had for a longtime resisted every attempt at consolation, preferring even death to alife of separation from all she loved, yet time, as it ever does, brought its soothing balm, and she at length grew contented and happy. 

From her activity and the energy of her character, qualities for whichshe was remarkable to the latest period of her life, the name was givenher of _The Ship under full sail_. 

 * * * * *

The only drawback to the happiness of the little prisoner, aside fromher longings after her own dear home, was the enmity she encounteredfrom the wife of the Big White Man. This woman, from the day of herarrival at the village, and adoption into the family as a sister, hadconceived for her the greatest animosity, which, at first, she had theprudence to conceal from the observation of her husband. 

It was perhaps natural that a wife should give way to some feelings ofjealousy at seeing her own place in the heart of her husband usurped bythe child of their enemy, the American. But these feelings wereaggravated by a bad and vindictive temper, and by the indifference withwhich her husband listened to her complaints and murmurings. 

As she had no children of her own to engage her attention, her mind wasthe more engrossed and inflamed with her fancied wrongs, and withdevising means for their redress. An opportunity of attempting thelatter was not long wanting. 

During the absence of the Big White Man upon some war-party orhunting-excursion, his little sister was taken ill with fever and ague. She was nursed with the utmost tenderness by the Old Queen; and the wifeof the chief, to lull suspicion, and thereby accomplish her purpose, was likewise unwearied in her assiduities to the little favorite. 

One afternoon, during the temporary absence of the Old Queen, herdaughter-in-law entered the lodge with a bowl of something she hadprepared, and, stooping down to the mat on which the child lay, said, inan affectionate accent, --

"Drink, my sister, I have brought you that which will drive this feverfar from you. "

On raising her head to reply, the little girl perceived a pair of eyespeeping through a crevice in the lodge, and fixed upon her with a verypeculiar and significant expression. With the quick perception acquiredpartly from nature and partly from her intercourse with this people, shereplied, faintly, --

"Set it down, my sister. When this fit of the fever has passed, I willdrink your medicine. "

The squaw, too cautious to use importunity, busied herself about in thelodge for a short time, then withdrew to another, near at hand. Meantime, the bright eyes continued peering through the opening, untilthey had watched their object fairly out of sight; then a low voice, thevoice of a young friend and playfellow, spoke:

"Do not drink that which your brother's wife has brought you. She hatesyou, and is only waiting an opportunity to rid herself of you. I havewatched her all the morning, and have seen her gathering the most deadlyroots and herbs. I knew for whom they were intended, and came hither towarn you. "

"Take the bowl, " said the little invalid, "and carry it to my mother'slodge. "

This was accordingly done. The contents of the bowl were found toconsist principally of a decoction of the root of the May-apple, themost deadly poison known among the Indians. 

It is not in the power of language to describe the indignation thatpervaded the little community when this discovery was made known. Thesquaws ran to and fro, as is their custom when excited, each vying withthe other in heaping invectives upon the culprit. No further punishmentwas, however, for the present inflicted upon her, but, the first burstof rage over, she was treated with silent abhorrence. 

The little patient was removed to the lodge of the Old Queen, andstrictly guarded, while her enemy was left to wander in silence andsolitude about the fields and woods, until the return of her husbandshould determine her punishment. 

In a few days, the excursion being over, the Big White Man and his partyreturned to the village. Contrary to the usual custom of savages, he didnot, in his first transport at learning the attempt on the life of hislittle sister, take summary vengeance on the offender. He contentedhimself with banishing her from his lodge, never to return, andcondemning her to hoe corn in a distant part of the large field orinclosure which served the whole community for a garden. 

Although she would still show her vindictive disposition whenever, bychance, the little girl with her companions wandered into that vicinity, by striking at her with her hoe, or by some other spitefulmanifestation, yet she was either too well watched, or stood too much inawe of her former husband, to repeat the attempt upon his sister's life. 

 * * * * *

Four years had now elapsed since the capture of little Nelly. Her heartwas by nature warm and affectionate, so that the unbounded tenderness ofthose she dwelt among had called forth a corresponding feeling in herheart. She regarded the chief and his mother with love and reverence, and had so completely learned their language and customs as almost tohave forgotten her own. 

So identified had she become with the tribe, that the remembrance of herhome and family had nearly faded from her memory; all but hermother--her mother, whom she had loved with a strength of affectionnatural to her warm and ardent character, and to whom her heart stillclung with a fondness that no time or change could destroy. 

The peace of 1783 between Great Britain and the United States now tookplace. A general pacification of the Indian tribes was the consequence, and fresh hopes were renewed in the bosoms of Mr. And Mrs. Lytle. 

They removed with their family to Fort Niagara, near which, on theAmerican side, was the Great _Council-Fire_ of the Senecas. ColonelJohnson readily undertook a fresh negotiation with the chief, but, inorder to make sure every chance of success, he again proceeded in personto the village of the Big White Man. 

His visit was most opportune. It was the "Feast of the Green Corn, " whenhe arrived among them. This observance, which corresponds so strikinglywith the Jewish Feast of Tabernacles that, together with other customs, it has led many to believe the Indian nations the descendants of thelost ten tribes of Israel, made it a season of general joy andfestivity. All other occupations were suspended to give place to socialenjoyment in the open air or in arbors formed of the green branches ofthe trees. Every one appeared in his gala-dress. That of the littleadopted child consisted of a petticoat of blue broadcloth, bordered withgay-colored ribbons; a sack or upper garment of black silk, ornamentedwith three rows of silver brooches, the centre ones from the throat tothe hem being of large size, and those from the shoulders down being nolarger than a shilling-piece, and set as closely as possible. Aroundher neck were innumerable strings of white and purple wampum--an Indianornament manufactured from the inner surface of the muscle-shell. Herhair was clubbed behind and loaded with beads of various colors. Leggings of scarlet cloth, and moccasins of deer-skin embroidered withporcupine-quills, completed her costume. 

Colonel Johnson was received with all the consideration due to hisposition, and to the long friendship that had subsisted between him andthe tribe. 

Observing that the hilarity of the festival had warmed and opened allhearts, he took occasion in an interview with the chief to expatiateupon the parental affection which had led the father and mother of hislittle sister to give up their friends and home, and come hundreds ofmiles away, in the single hope of sometimes looking upon and embracingher. The heart of the chief softened as he listened to thisrepresentation, and he was induced to promise that at the Grand Councilsoon to be held at Fort Niagara, on the British side of the river, hewould attend, bringing his little sister with him. 

He exacted a promise, however, from Colonel Johnson, that not only noeffort should be made to reclaim the child, but that even no propositionto part with her should be offered him. 

The time at length arrived when, her heart bounding with joy, littleNelly was placed on horseback to accompany her Indian brother to theGreat Council of the Senecas. She had promised him that she would neverleave him without his permission, and he relied confidently on her wordthus given. 

As the chiefs and warriors arrived in successive bands to meet theirFather, the agent, at the council-fire, how did the anxious hearts ofthe parents beat with alternate hope and fear! The officers of the forthad kindly given them quarters for the time being, and the ladies, whosesympathies were strongly excited, had accompanied the mother to theplace of council, and joined in her longing watch for the firstappearance of the band from the Alleghany River. 

At length they were discerned, emerging from the forest on the oppositeor American side. Boats were sent across by the commanding officer, tobring the chief and his party. The father and mother, attended by allthe officers and ladies, stood upon the grassy bank awaiting theirapproach. They had seen at a glance that the _little captive_ was withthem. 

When about to enter the boat, the chief said to some of his young men, "Stand here with the horses, and wait until I return. "

He was told that the horses should be ferried across and taken care of. 

"No, " said he; "let them wait. "

He held his darling by the hand until the river was passed--until theboat touched the bank--until the child sprang forward into the arms ofthe mother from whom she had been so long separated. 

When the chief witnessed that outburst of affection, he could withstandno longer. 

"She shall go, " said he. "The mother must have her child again. I willgo back alone. "

With one silent gesture of farewell he turned and stepped on board theboat. No arguments or entreaties could induce him to remain at thecouncil, but, having gained the other side of the Niagara, he mountedhis horse, and with his young men was soon lost in the depths of theforest. 

After a sojourn of a few weeks at Niagara, Mr. Lytle, dreading lest theresolution of the Big White Man should give way, and measures be takento deprive him once more of his child, came to the determination ofagain changing his place of abode. He therefore took the firstopportunity of crossing Lake Erie with his family, and settled himselfin the neighborhood of Detroit, where he continued afterwards to reside. 

_Little Nelly_ saw her friend the chief no more, but she never forgothim. To the day of her death she remembered with tenderness andgratitude her brother the Big White Man, and her friends and playfellowsamong the Senecas. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

SECOND-SIGHT--HICKORY CREEK. 

At the age of fourteen the heroine of the foregoing story marriedColonel McKillip, a British officer. This gentleman was killed near FortDefiance, as it was afterwards called, at the Miami Rapids, in 1794. Adetachment of British troops had been sent down from Detroit to takepossession of this post. General Wayne was then on a campaign againstthe Indians, and the British Government thought proper to make a fewdemonstrations in behalf of their allies. Having gone out with a partyto reconnoitre, Colonel McKillip was returning to his post after dark, when he was fired upon and killed by one of his own sentinels. Mrs. Helmwas the daughter of this marriage. 

During the widowhood of Mrs. McKillip, she resided with her parents, atGrosse Pointe, eight miles above Detroit, and it was during this periodthat an event occurred which, from the melancholy and mysteriouscircumstances attending it, was always dwelt upon by her with peculiarinterest. 

Her second brother, Thomas Lytle, was, from his amiable and affectionatecharacter, the most dearly beloved by her of all the numerous familycircle. He was paying his addresses to a young lady who resided at theriver Trench, [43] as it was then called, now the river Thames, a streamemptying into Lake St. Clair about twenty miles above Detroit. Invisiting this young lady, it was his custom to cross the Detroit Riverby the ferry with his horse, and then proceed by land to the riverTrench, which was, at some seasons of the year, a fordable stream. 

On a fine forenoon, late in the spring, he had taken leave of his motherand sister for one of these periodical visits, which were usually of twoor three days' duration. 

After dinner, as his sister was sitting at work by an open window whichlooked upon a little side inclosure filled with fruit-trees, she wasstartled by observing some object opposite the window, between her andthe light. She raised her eyes and saw her brother Thomas. He waswithout his horse, and carried his saddle upon his shoulders. 

Surprised that she had not heard the gate opening for his entrance, andalso at his singular appearance, laden in that manner, she addressedhim, and inquired what had happened, and why he had returned so soon. Hemade her no reply, but looked earnestly in her face, as he moved slowlyalong the paved walk that led to the stables. 

She waited a few moments, expecting he would reappear to give an accountof himself and his adventures, but at length, growing impatient at hisdelay, she put down her work and went towards the rear of the house tofind him. 

The first person she met was her mother. "Have you seen Thomas?" sheinquired. 

"Thomas! He has gone to the river Trench. "

"No, he has returned--I saw him pass the window not fifteen minutessince. "

"Then he will be in presently. "

His sister, however, could not wait. She proceeded to the stables, shesearched in all directions. No Thomas--no horse--no saddle. She madeinquiry of the domestics. No one had seen him. She then returned andtold her mother what had happened. 

"You must have fallen asleep and dreamed it, " said her mother. 

"No, indeed! I was wide awake--I spoke to him, and he gave me no answer, but such a look!"

All the afternoon she felt an uneasiness she could not reason herselfout of. 

The next morning came a messenger from the river Trench with dismaltidings. 

The bodies of the young man and his horse had been found drowned a shortdistance below the ford of the river. 

It appeared that, on arriving at the bank of the river, he found itswollen beyond its usual depth by the recent rains. It being necessaryto swim the stream with his horse, he had taken off his clothes and madethem into a packet which he fastened upon his shoulders. It was supposedthat the strength of the rapid torrent displaced the bundle, which thusserved to draw his head under water and keep it there, without the powerof raising it. All this was gathered from the position and appearance ofthe bodies when found. 

From the time at which he had been seen passing a house which stood nearthe stream, on his way to the ford, it was evident that he must havemet his fate at the very moment his sister saw, or thought she saw him, passing before her. 

I could not but suggest the inquiry, when these sad particulars werenarrated to me, --

"Mother, is it not possible this might have been a dream?"

"A dream? No, indeed, my child. I was perfectly wide awake--as much soas I am at this moment. I am not superstitious. I have never believed inghosts or witches, but nothing can ever persuade me that this was not awarning sent from God, to prepare me for my brother's death. "

And those who knew her rational good sense--her freedom from fancies orfears, and the calm self-possession that never deserted her under themost trying circumstances--would almost be won to view the matter in thelight she did. 

 * * * * *

The order for the evacuation of Port Dearborn, and the removal of thetroops to Fort Howard (Green Bay), had now been received. The familycircle was to be broken up. Our mother, our sister Mrs. Helm, and herlittle son, were to return with us to Fort Winnebago; the other membersof the family, except Robert, were to move with the command to GreenBay. 

The schooner Napoleon was to be sent from Detroit to convey the troopswith their goods and chattels to their destined post. Our immediateparty was to make the journey by land--we were to choose, however, ashorter and pleasanter route than the one we had taken in coming hither. My husband, with his Frenchmen, Petaille Grignon and Simon Lecuyer, hadarrived, and all hands were now busily occupied with the necessarypreparations for breaking up and removal. 

I should be doing injustice to the hospitable settlers of Hickory Creekwere I to pass by without notice an entertainment with which theyhonored our Chicago beaux about this time. The merry-making was to be aball, and the five single gentlemen of Chicago were invited. Mr. Dole, who was a new-comer, declined; Lieutenant Foster was on duty, but he didwhat was still better than accepting the invitation, he loaned hisbeautiful horse to Medard Beaubien, who with Robert Kinzie and GholsonKercheval promised himself much fun in eclipsing the beaux and creatinga sensation among the belles of Hickory Creek. 

Chicago was then, as now, looked upon as the City _par excellence_. Itsfew inhabitants were supposed to have seen something of the world, andit is to be inferred that the arrival of the smart and dashing young menwas an event looked forward to with more satisfaction by the fair of thelittle settlement than by the swains whose rivals they might become. 

The day arrived, and the gentlemen set off in high spirits. They tookcare to be in good season, for the dancing was to commence at twoo'clock in the afternoon. They were well mounted, each priding himselfupon the animal he rode, and they wore their best suits, as became citygallants who were bent on cutting out their less fashionable neighborsand breaking the hearts of the admiring country damsels. 

When they arrived at the place appointed, they were received with greatpoliteness--their steeds were taken care of, and a dinner was providedthem, after which they were ushered into the dancing-hall. 

All the beauty of the neighboring precincts was assembled. The ladieswere for the most part white, or what passed for such, with anoccasional dash of copper color. There was no lack of bombazet gowns andlarge white pocket-handkerchiefs, perfumed with oil of cinnamon; and asthey took their places in long rows on the puncheon floor, they were amerry and a happy company. 

But the city gentlemen grew more and more gallant--the girls more andmore delighted with their attentions--the country swains, alas! more andmore scowling and jealous. In vain they pigeon-winged anddouble-shuffled--in vain they nearly dislocated hips and shoulders at"hoe corn and dig potatoes"--they had the mortification to perceive thatthe smart young sprigs from Chicago had their "pick and choose" amongtheir very sweethearts, and that they themselves were fairly danced offthe ground. 

The revelry lasted until daylight, and it was now time to think ofreturning. There was no one ready with obliging politeness to bring themtheir horses from the stable. 

"Poor fellows!" said one of the party, with a compassionate sort oflaugh, "they could not stand it. They have gone home to bed!"

"Serves them right, " said another; "they'd better not ask us down amongtheir girls again!"

They groped their way to the stable and went in. There were some animalsstanding at the manger, but evidently not their horses. What could theybe? Had the rogues been trying to cheat them, by putting these strangenondescripts into their place?

They led them forth into the gray of the morning, and then--such a trioas met their gaze!

There were the original bodies, it is true, but where were their manesand tails? A scrubby, pickety ridge along the neck, and a bare stumpprojecting behind, were all that remained of the flowing honors withwhich they had come gallivanting down to "bear away the bell" atHickory Creek, or, in the emphatic language of the country, "to take therag off the bush. "

Gholson sat down on a log and cried outright. Medard took the mattermore philosophically--the horse was none of his--it was LieutenantFoster's. 

Robert characteristically looked around to see whom he could knock downon the occasion; but there was no one visible on whom to wreak theirvengeance. 

The bumpkins had stolen away, and, in some safe, quiet nook, were snuglyenjoying their triumph, and doubtless the deceitful fair ones were bythis time at their sides, sharing their mirth and exultation. 

The unlucky gallants mounted their steeds, and set their faces homeward. Never was there a more crestfallen and sorry-looking cavalcade. The poorhorses seemed to realize that they had met the same treatment as themessengers of King David at the hands of the evil-disposed Hanun. Theyhung their heads, and evidently wished that they could have "tarried atJericho" for a season. Unfortunately, there was in those days no backway by which they could steal in, unobserved. Across the prairie, inview of the whole community, must their approach be made; and to add totheir confusion, in the rarity of stirring events, it was the custom ofthe whole settlement to turn out and welcome the arrival of anynew-comer. 

As hasty a retreat as possible was beaten, amid the shouts, the jeers, and the condolences of their acquaintances; and it is on record thatthese three young gentlemen were in no hurry to accept, at any futuretime, an invitation to partake of the festivities of Hickory Creek. 

 * * * * *

In due time the Napoleon made her appearance. (Alas that this greatname should be used in the feminine gender!) As there was at this periodno harbor, vessels anchored outside the bar, or tongue of land whichformed the left bank of the river, and the lading and unlading werecarried on by boats, pulling in and out, through the mouth of the river, some distance below. 

Of course it always was a matter of great importance to get a vesselloaded as quickly as possible, that she might be ready to take advantageof the first fair wind, and be off from such an exposed and hazardousanchoring-ground. 

For this reason we had lived _packed up_ for many days, intending onlyto see our friends safe on board, and then commence our own journey backto Fort Winnebago. 

Our heavy articles of furniture, trunks, etc. Had been sent on board theNapoleon, to be brought round to us by way of Fox River. We had retainedonly such few necessaries as could be conveniently carried on apack-horse, and in a light dearborn wagon lately brought by Mr. Kercheval from Detroit (the first luxury of the kind ever seen on theprairies), and which my husband had purchased as an agreeable mode ofconveyance for his mother and little nephew. 

It was a matter requiring no small amount of time and labor totransport, in the slow method described, the effects of so many familiesof officers and soldiers, with the various etceteras incident to a totalchange and removal. It was all, however, happilyaccomplished--everything, even to the last article, sent onboard--nothing remaining on shore but the passengers, whose turn itwould be next. 

It was a moment of great relief; for Captain Hinckley had been in afever and a fuss many hours, predicting a change of weather, andmurmuring at what he thought the unnecessary amount of boat-loads to betaken on board. 

Those who had leisure to be looking out towards the schooner, which hadcontinued anchored about half a mile out in the lake, had, at thiscrisis, the satisfaction to see her hoist sail and leave her station forthe open lake; those who were a little later could just discern herbearing away to a distance, as if she had got all on board that she hadany idea of taking. Here we were, and here we might remain a week ormore, if it so pleased Captain Hinckley and the schooner Napoleon, andthe good east wind which was blowing with all its might. 

There was plenty of provisions to be obtained, so the fear of starvationwas not the trouble; but how were the cooking and the table to beprovided for? Various expedients were resorted to. Mrs. Engle, in herquarters above-stairs, ate her breakfast off a shingle with herhusband's jack-knife, and when she had finished, sent them down toLieutenant Foster for his accommodation. 

We were at the old mansion on the north side, and the news soon flew upthe river that the Napoleon had gone off with "the plunder" and left thepeople behind. It was not long before we were supplied by Mrs. Portier(our kind Victoire) with dishes, knives, forks, and all the otherconveniences which our mess-basket failed to supply. 

This state of things lasted a couple of days, and then, early one finemorning, the gratifying intelligence spread like wild-fire that theNapoleon was at anchor out beyond the bar. 

There was no unnecessary delay this time, and at an early hour in theafternoon we had taken leave of our dear friends, and they were sailingaway from Chicago. [44]

CHAPTER XXIV. 

RETURN TO FORT WINNEBAGO. 

A great part of the command, with the cattle belonging to the officersand soldiers, had, a day or two previous to the time of our departure, set out on their march by land to Green Bay, _via_ Fort Winnebago. Lieutenant Foster, under whose charge they were, had lingered behindthat he might have the pleasure of joining our party, and we, in turn, had delayed in order to see the other members of our family safely onboard the Napoleon. But now, all things being ready, we set our facesonce more homeward. 

We took with us a little _bound-girl, _ Josette, a bright, pretty childof ten years of age, a daughter of Ouilmette, a Frenchman who had livedhere at the time of the Massacre, and of a Pottowattamie mother. She hadbeen at the St. Joseph's mission-school, under Mr. McCoy, and she wasnow full of delight at the prospect of a journey all the way to thePortage with Monsieur and Madame John. 

We had also a negro boy, Harry, brought a year before from Kentucky, byMr. Kercheval. In the transfer at that time from a slave State to a freeone, Harry's position became somewhat changed--he could be no more thanan indentured servant. He was about to become a member of Dr. Wolcott'shousehold, and it was necessary for him to choose a guardian. All thiswas explained to him on his being brought into the parlor, where thefamily were assembled. My husband was then a young man, on a visit tohis home. "Now, Harry, " it was said to him, "you must choose yourguardian;" and the natural expectation was that Harry would select theperson of his acquaintance of the greatest age and dignity. But, rollinground his great eyes, and hanging his head on one side, he said, --

"I'll have Master John for my guardian. "

From that day forward Harry felt as if he belonged, in a measure, toMaster John, and at the breaking-up of the family in Chicago he was, naturally, transferred to our establishment. 

There were three ladies of our travelling party--our mother, our sisterMrs. Helm, and myself. To guard against the burning effect of the sunand the prairie winds upon our faces, I had, during some of the lastdays of my visit, prepared for each of us a mask of brown linen, withthe eyes, nose, and mouth fitted to our features; and, to enhance theirhideousness, I had worked eyebrows, eyelashes, and a circle around theopening for the mouth, in black silk. Gathered in plaits under the chin, and with strings to confine them above and below, they furnished acomplete protection against the sun and wind, though nothing can beimagined more frightful than the appearance we presented when fullyequipped. It was who should be called the ugliest. 

We left amid the good wishes and laughter of our few remainingacquaintances. Our wagon had been provided with a pair of excellenttravelling horses, and, sister Margaret and myself being accommodatedwith the best pacers the country could afford, we set off in highspirits towards the Aux Plaines--our old friend, Billy Caldwell (theSau-ga-nash), with our brother Robert, and Gholson Kercheval, accompanying us to that point of our journey. 

There was no one at Barney Lawton's when we reached there, save aFrenchman and a small number of Indians. My sister and I dismounted, andentered the dwelling, the door of which stood open. Two Indians wereseated on the floor, smoking. They raised their eyes as we appeared, andnever shall I forget the expression of wonder and horror depicted on thecountenances of both. Their lips relaxed until the pipe of one fell uponthe floor. Their eyes seemed starting from their heads, and raisingtheir outspread hands, as if to wave us from them, they slowlyejaculated, "_Manitou!"_ (a spirit. )

As we raised our masks, and, smiling, came forward to shake hands withthem, they sprang to their feet and fairly uttered a cry of delight atthe sight of our familiar faces. 

"Bon-jour, bon-jour, Maman!" was their salutation, and they instantlyplunged out of doors to relate to their companions what had happened. 

Our afternoon's ride was over a prairie stretching away to the northeastNo living creature was to be seen upon its broad expanse, but flying andcircling over our heads were innumerable flocks of curlews, "Screaming their wild notes to the listening waste. "

Their peculiar, shrill cry of "crack, crack, crack--rackety, rackety, rackety, " repeated from the throats of dozens, as they sometimes stoopedquite close to our ears, became at length almost unbearable. It seemedas if they had lost their senses in the excitement of so unusual andsplendid a cortége in their hitherto desolate domain. 

The accelerated pace of our horses, as we approached a beautiful, wooded knoll, warned us that this was to be our place of repose for thenight. These animals seem to know by instinct a favorableencamping-ground, and this was one of the most lovely imaginable. 

The trees, which near the lake had, owing to the coldness and tardinessof the season, presented the pale-yellow appearance of unfledgedgoslings, were here bursting into full leaf. The ground around wascarpeted with flowers--we could not bear to have them crushed by thefelling of a tree and the pitching of our tent among them. The birdssent forth their sweetest notes in the warm, lingering sunlight, and theopening buds of the young hickory and sassafras filled the air withperfume. 

Nothing could be more perfect than our enjoyment of this sylvan andbeautiful retreat[45] after our ride in the glowing sun. The childrenwere in ecstasies. They delighted to find ways of making themselvesuseful--to pile up the saddles--to break boughs for the fire--to fillthe little kettles with water for Petaille and Lecuyer, the Frenchmen, who were preparing our supper. 

Their amusement at the awkward movements of the horses after they werespancelled knew no bounds. To our little nephew Edwin everything wasnew, and Josette, who had already made more than one horseback journeyto St. Joseph, manifested all the pride of an old traveller inexplaining to him whatever was novel or unaccountable. 

They were not the last to spring up at the call "how! how!" on thefollowing morning. 

The fire was replenished, the preparations for breakfast commenced, andthe Frenchmen dispatched to bring up the horses in readiness for anearly start. 

Harry and Josette played their parts, under our direction, in preparingthe simple meal, and we soon seated ourselves, each with cup and knife, around the _table-mat. _ The meal was over, but no men, no horsesappeared. When another half-hour had passed, my husband took Harry andcommenced exploring in search of the missing ones. 

The day wore on, and first one and then another would make hisappearance to report progress. Petaille and Lecuyer at length broughttwo of the horses, but the others could nowhere be found. In time, Mr. Kinzie and Harry returned, wet to their knees by the dew upon the longprairie-grass, but with no tidings. Again the men were dispatched afterhaving broken their fast, but returned unsuccessful as before. 

The morning had been passed by our party at the encampment inspeculating upon the missing animals. Could they have been stolen by theIndians? Hardly: these people seldom committed robberies in time ofpeace--never upon our family, whom they regarded as their best friends. The horses would doubtless be found. They had probably been carelesslyfastened the preceding evening, and had therefore been able to strayfarther than was their wont. 

A council was held, at which it was decided to send Grignon back toChicago to get some fresh horses from Gholson Kercheval, and return asspeedily as possible. If on his return our encampment were deserted, hemight conclude we had found the horses and proceeded to Fox River, wherehe would doubtless overtake us. 

He had not been gone more than an hour before, slowly hopping out of apoint of woods to the north of us (a spot which each of the seekersaverred he had explored over and over again), and making directly forthe place where we were, appeared the vexatious animals. They came upas demurely as if nothing had happened, and seemed rather surprised tobe received with a hearty scolding, instead of being patted and caressedas usual. 

It was the work of a very short half-hour to strike and pack the tent, stow away the mats and kettles, saddle the horses, and mount for ourjourney. 

"Whoever pleases may take my place in the carriage, " said our mother. "Ihave travelled so many years on horseback, that I find any other mode ofconveyance too fatiguing. "

So, spite of her sixty years, she mounted sister Margaret's pacer withthe activity of a girl of sixteen. 

Lieutenant Foster had left us early in the morning, feeling it necessaryto rejoin his command, and now, having seen us ready to set off, with aserene sky above us, and all things "right and tight" for the journey, our friend the Sau-ga-nash took leave of us, and retraced his stepstowards Chicago. 

We pursued our way through a lovely country of alternate glade andforest, until we reached the Fox River. The current ran clear andrippling along, and, as we descended the steep bank to the water, thequestion, so natural to a traveller in an unknown region, presenteditself, "Is it fordable?"

Petaille, to whom the ground was familiar, had not yet made hisappearance Lecuyer was quite ignorant upon the subject. The troops hadevidently preceded us by this very trail. True, but they were onhorseback--the difficulty was, could we get the carriage through? Itmust be remembered that the doubt was not about the depth of the water, but about the hardness of the bottom of the stream. 

It was agreed that two or three of the equestrians should make thetrial first. My mother, Lecuyer, and myself advanced cautiously acrossto the opposite bank, each choosing a different point for leaving thewater, in order to find the firmest spot. The bottom was hard and firmuntil we came near the shore; then it yielded a little. With one step, however, we were each on dry ground. 

"Est-il beau?" called my husband, who was driving. 

"Oui, monsieur. "

"Yes, John, come just here, it is perfectly good. "

"No, no--go a little farther down. See the white gravel just there--itwill be firmer still, there. "

Such were the contradictory directions given. He chose the latter, andwhen it wanted but one step more to the bank, down sunk both horses, until little more than their backs were visible. 

The white gravel proved to be a bed of treacherous yellow clay, which, gleaming through the water, had caused so unfortunate a deception. 

With frantic struggles, for they were nearly suffocated with mud andwater, the horses made desperate efforts to free themselves from theharness. My husband sprang out upon the pole. "Some one give me aknife, " he cried. I was back in the water in a moment, and, approachingas near as I dared, handed him mine from the scabbard around my neck. 

"Whatever you do, do not cut the traces, " cried his mother. 

He severed some of the side-straps, when, just as he had reached theextremity of the pole, and was stretching forward to separate thehead-couplings, one of the horses gave a furious plunge, which causedhis fellow to rear, and throw himself nearly backwards. My husband wasbetween them. For a moment we thought he was gone--trampled down by theexcited animals; but he presently showed himself, nearly obscured by themud and water. With the agility of a cat, Harry, who was near him, nowsprang forward on the pole, and in an instant, with his sharp jack-knifewhich he had ready, divided the straps that confined their heads. 

The horses were at this moment lying floating on the water--oneapparently dead, the other as if gasping out his last breath. But hardlydid they become sensible of the release of their heads from bondage, than they made, simultaneously, another furious effort to freethemselves from the pole, to which they were still attached by theneck-strap. 

Failing in this, they tried another expedient, and, by a few judicioustwists and turns, succeeded in wrenching the pole asunder, and finallycarried it off in triumph across the river again, and up the bank, wherethey stood waiting to decide what were the next steps to be taken. 

Here was a predicament! A few hours before, we had thought ourselvesuncomfortable enough, because some of our horses were missing. Now, agreater evil had befallen us. The wagon was in the river, the harnesscut to pieces, and, what was worse, carried off in the most independentmanner, by Tom and his companion; the pole was twisted to fragments, andthere was not so much as a stick on our side of the river with which toreplace it. 

At this moment, a whoop from the opposite bank, echoed by two or threehearty ones from our party, announced the reappearance of PetailleGrignon. He dismounted and took charge of the horses, who were restingthemselves after their fatigues under a shady tree, and by this timeLecuyer had crossed the river, and now joined him in bringing back thedelinquents. 

In the mean time we had been doing our best to minister to our sisterMargaret. She, with her little son Edwin, had been in the wagon at thetime of the accident, and it had been a work of some difficulty to getthem out and bring them on horseback to shore. The effect of theagitation and excitement was to throw her into a fit of the ague, andshe now lay blue and trembling among the long grass of the littleprairie which extended along the bank. The tent, which had been packedin the rear of the wagon, was too much saturated with mud and water toadmit of its being used as a shelter; it could only be stretched in thesun to dry. We opened an umbrella over our poor sister's head, and nowbegan a discussion of ways and means to repair damages. The first thingwas to cut a new pole for the wagon, and for this, the master and menmust recross the river and choose an _iron-tree_ out of the forest. 

Then, for the harness. With provident care, a little box had been placedunder the seat of the wagon, containing an awl, waxed ends, and variousother little conveniences exactly suited to an emergency like thepresent. 

It was question and answer, like Cock Robin:

"Who can mend the harness?"

"I can, for I learned when I was a young girl to make shoes as _anaccomplishment_, and I can surely now, as a matter of usefulness andduty, put all those wet, dirty pieces of leather together. "

So we all seated ourselves on the grass, under the shade of the only twoumbrellas we could muster. 

I stitched away diligently, blistering my hands, I must own, in no smalldegree. 

A suitable young tree had been brought, and the hatchets, without whichone never travels in the woods, were busy fashioning it into shape, whena peculiar hissing noise was heard, and instantly the cry, --

"_Un serpent sonnette_! A rattlesnake!"

All sprang to their feet, even the poor, shaking invalid, just in timeto see the reptile glide past within three inches of my mother's feet, while the men assailed the spot it had left with whips, missiles, andwhatever would help along the commotion. 

This little incident proved an excellent remedy for the ague. Oneexcitement drives away another, and by means of this (upon thehomoeopathic principle) sister Margaret was so much improved that by thetime all the mischiefs were repaired, she was ready to take her place inthe cavalcade, as bright and cheerful as the rest of us. 

So great had been the delay occasioned by all these untowardcircumstances, that our afternoon's ride was but a short one, bringingus no farther than the shores of a beautiful sheet of water, now knownas Crystal Lake. Its clear surface was covered with loons, and _Poulesd'Eau_, a species of rail; with which, at certain seasons, this regionabounds. 

The Indians have the genius of Aesop for depicting animal life andcharacter, and there is among them a fable or legend illustrative ofevery peculiarity in the personal appearance, habits, or dispositions ofeach variety of the animal creation. 

The back of the little rail is very concave, or hollow. The Indians tellus that it became so in the following manner:--

STORY OF THE LITTLE RAIL, OR _Poule d'Eau_

There is supposed, by most of the Northwestern tribes, to exist aninvisible being, corresponding to the "Genie" of Oriental story. Withoutbeing exactly the father of evil, _Nan-nee-bo-zho_ is a spirit whoseoffice it is to punish what is amiss. He is represented, too, asconstantly occupied in entrapping and making examples of all theanimals that come in his way. 

One pleasant evening, as he walked along the banks of a lake, he saw aflock of ducks, sailing and enjoying themselves on the blue waters. Hecalled to them:

"Ho! come with me into my lodge, and I will teach you to dance!" Some ofthe ducks said among themselves, "It is Nan-nee-bo-zho; let us not go. "Others were of a contrary opinion, and, his words being fair, and hisvoice insinuating, a few turned their faces towards the land--all therest soon followed, and, with many pleasant quackings, trooped afterhim, and entered his lodge. 

When there, he first took an Indian sack, with a wide mouth, which hetied by the strings around his neck, so that it would hang over hisshoulders, leaving the mouth unclosed. Then, placing himself in thecentre of the lodge, he ranged the ducks in a circle around him. 

"Now, " said he, "you must all shut your eyes _tight_; whoever opens hiseyes at all, something dreadful will happen to him. I will take myIndian flute and play upon it, and you will, at the word I shall give, open your eyes, and commence dancing, as you see me do. "

The ducks obeyed, shutting their eyes _tight_, and keeping time to themusic by stepping from one foot to the other, all impatient for thedancing to begin. 

Presently a sound was heard like a smothered "quack, " but the ducks didnot dare to open their eyes. 

Again, and again, the sound of the flute would be interrupted, and agurgling cry of "qu-a-a-ck" be heard. There was one little duck, muchsmaller than the rest, who, at this juncture, could not resist thetemptation to open one eye, cautiously. She saw Nan-nee-bo-zho, as heplayed his flute, holding it with one hand, stoop a little at intervalsand seize the duck nearest him, which he throttled and stuffed into thebag on his shoulders. So, edging a little out of the circle, and gettingnearer the door, which had been left partly open, to admit the light, she cried out, --

"Open your eyes--Nan-nee-bo-zho is choking you all and putting you intohis bag!"

With that she flew, but Nan-nee-bo-zho pounced upon her. His handgrasped her back, yet, with desperate force, she released herself andgained the open air. Her companions flew, quacking and screaming, afterher. Some escaped, and some fell victims to the sprite. 

The little duck had saved her life, but she had lost her beauty. Sheever after retained the attitude she had been forced into in her momentof danger--her back pressed down in the centre, and her head and neckunnaturally stretched forward into the air. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

RETURN JOURNEY, CONTINUED. 

The third day of our journey rose brilliantly clear, like the twopreceding ones, and we shaped our course more to the north than we hadhitherto done, in the direction of _Big-foot_ Lake, now known by thesomewhat hackneyed appellation, Lake of Geneva. 

Our journey this day was without mishaps or disasters of any kind. Theair was balmy, the foliage of the forests fresh and fragrant, the littlebrooks clear and sparkling--everything in nature spoke the praises ofthe beneficent Creator. 

It is in scenes like this, far removed from the bustle, the strife, andthe sin of civilized life, that we most fully realize the presence ofthe great Author of the Universe. Here can the mind most fully adore hismajesty and goodness, for here only is the command obeyed, "Let all theearth keep silence before Him!"

It cannot escape observation that the deepest and most solemn devotionis in the hearts of those who, shut out from the worship of God intemples made with hands, are led to commune with him amid the boundlessmagnificence that his own power has framed. 

This day was not wholly without incident. As we stopped for ournoon-tide refreshment, and dismounting threw ourselves on the freshherbage just at the verge of a pleasant thicket, we were startled by atender _bleating_ near us, and presently, breaking its way through thelow branches, there came upon us a sweet little dappled fawn, evidentlyin search of its mother. It did not seem in the least frightened at thesight of us. As poor Selkirk might have been parodied, --

 It was so unacquainted with man, Its tameness was charming to us. 

But the vociferous delight of the children soon drove it bounding againinto the woods, and all hopes of catching it for a pet were at once atan end. 

We had travelled well this day, and were beginning to feel somewhatfatigued, when, just before sunset, we came upon a ridge, overlookingone of the loveliest little dells imaginable. It was an oak opening, andbrowsing under the shade of the tall trees which were scattered aroundwere the cattle and horses of the soldiers, who had got thus far ontheir journey. Two or three white tents were pitched in the bottom ofthe valley, beside a clear stream. The camp-fires were already lighted, and the men, singly or in groups, were busied in their variouspreparations for their own comfort, or that of their animals. 

Lieutenant Foster came forward with great delight to welcome ourarrival, and accepted without hesitation an invitation to join our messagain, as long as we should be together. 

We soon found a pleasant encamping-ground, far enough removed from theother party to secure us against all inconvenience, and our supperhaving received the addition of a kettle of fine fresh milk, kindlybrought us by Mrs. Gardiner, the hospital matron, who with her littlecovered cart formed no unimportant feature in the military group, wepartook of our evening meal with much hilarity and enjoyment. 

If people are ever companionable, it is when thrown together undercircumstances like the present. There has always been sufficientincident through the day to furnish themes for discourse, and subjectsof merriment, as long as the company feel disposed for conversation, which is, truth to tell, not an unconscionable length of time aftertheir supper is over. 

The poor Lieutenant looked grave enough when we set out in advance ofhim the next morning. None of his party were acquainted with the road;but, after giving him directions both general and particular, Mr. Kinziepromised to _blaze_ a tree, or _set up a chip_ for a guide, at everyplace which appeared more than usually doubtful. 

We now found ourselves in a much more diversified country than any wehad hitherto travelled. Gently swelling hills, lovely valleys, andbright sparkling streams were the features of the landscape. But therewas little animate life. Now and then a shout from the leader of theparty (for, according to custom, we travelled Indian file) would callour attention to a herd of deer "loping, " as the Westerners say, through the forest; or an additional spur would be given to the horseson the appearance of some small dark object, far distant on the trailbefore us. But the game invariably contrived to disappear before wecould reach it, and it was out of the question to leave the beaten trackfor a regular hunt. 

Soon after mid-day, we descended a long, sloping knoll, and by a suddenturn came full in view of the beautiful sheet of water denominatedGros-pied by the French, _Maunk-suck_ by the natives, and by ourselvesBig-foot, from the chief whose village overlooked its waters. Bold, swelling hills jutted forward into the clear blue expanse, or retreatedslightly to afford a green, level nook, as a resting-place for thedwelling of man. On the nearer shore stretched a bright, gravelly beach, across which coursed here and there a pure, sparkling rivulet to jointhe larger sheet of water. 

On a rising ground at the foot of one of the bold bluffs in the middledistance, a collection of neat wigwams formed, with their surroundinggardens, no unpleasant feature in the picture. 

A shout of delight burst involuntarily from the whole party, as thischarming landscape met our view. "It was like the Hudson, only lessbold--no, it was like the lake of the Forest Cantons, in the picture ofthe Chapel of William Tell! What could be imagined more enchanting? Oh Iif our friends at the East could but enjoy it with us!"

We paused long to admire, and then spurred on, skirting the head of thelake, and were soon ascending the broad platform on which stood thevillage of Maunk-suck, or Big-foot. 

The inhabitants, who had witnessed our approach from a distance, wereall assembled in front of their wigwams to greet us, if friends--ifotherwise, whatever the occasion should demand. It was the first timesuch a spectacle had ever presented itself to their wondering eyes. Their salutations were not less cordial than we expected. "Shaw-nee-aw-kee" and his mother, who was known throughout the tribe bythe touching appellation "Our friend's wife, " were welcomed most kindly, and an animated conversation commenced, which I could understand only sofar as it was conveyed by gestures; so I amused myself by taking aminute survey of all that met my view. 

The chief was a large, raw-boned, ugly Indian, with a countenancebloated by intemperance, and with a sinister, unpleasant expression. Hehad a gay-colored handkerchief upon his head, and was otherwise attiredin his best, in compliment to the strangers. 

It was to this chief that Chambly, or, as he is now called, Shaw-bee-nay, Billy Caldwell, and Robinson were dispatched, by Dr. Wolcott, their Agent, during the Winnebago war, in 1821, to use theirearnest endeavors to prevent this chief and his band from joining thehostile Indians. With some difficulty they succeeded, and were thus themeans, doubtless, of saving the lives of all the settlers who livedexposed upon the frontier. 

Among the various groups of his people, there was none attracted myattention so forcibly as a young man of handsome face, and a figure thatwas striking even where all were fine and symmetrical. He too had a gayhandkerchief on his head, a shirt of the brightest lemon-colored calico, an abundance of silver ornaments, and, what gave his dress a mostfanciful appearance, one legging of blue and the other of brightscarlet. I was not ignorant that this peculiar feature in his toiletindicated a heart suffering from the tender passion. The flute, whichhe carried in his hand, added confirmation to the fact, while thejoyous, animated expression of his countenance showed with equalplainness that he was not a despairing lover. 

I could have imagined him to have recently returned from the chase, laden with booty, with which he had, as is the custom, entered the lodgeof the fair one, and thrown his burden at the feet of her parents, withan indifferent, superb sort of air, as much as to say, "Here is somemeat--it is a mere trifle, but it will show you what you might expectwith me for a son-in-law. " I could not doubt that the damsel had steppedforward and gathered it up, in token that she accepted the offering, andthe donor along with it. There was nothing in the appearance or mannerof any of the maidens by whom we were surrounded, to denote which wasthe happy fair, neither, although I peered anxiously into all theircountenances, could I there detect any blush of consciousness; so I wasobliged to content myself with selecting the youngest and prettiest ofthe group, and go on weaving my romance to my own satisfaction. 

The village stood encircled by an amphitheatre of hills, so precipitous, and with gorges so steep and narrow, that it seemed almost impossible toscale them, even on horseback; how, then, could we hope to accomplishthe ascent of the four-wheeled carriage? This was the point now underdiscussion between my husband and the Pottowattamies. There was noalternative but to make the effort, selecting the pass that theinhabitants pointed out as the most practicable. Petaille went first, and I followed on my favorite Jerry. It was such a scramble as is notoften taken, --almost perpendicularly, through what seemed the dry bed ofa torrent, now filled with loose stones, and scarcely affording onesecure foothold from the bottom to the summit! I clang fast to themane, literally at times clasping Jerry around his neck, and, amid theencouraging shouts and cheers of those below, we at length arrivedsafely, though nearly breathless, on the pinnacle, and sat looking down, to view the success of the next party. 

The horses had been taken from the carriage, the luggage it containedbeing placed upon the shoulders of some of the young Indians, to be_toted_ up the steep. Ropes were now attached to its sides, and aregular bevy of our red friends, headed by our two Frenchmen, placed toman them. Two or three more took their places in the rear, to hold thevehicle and keep it from slipping backwards--then the labor commenced. Such a pulling! such a shouting! such a clapping of hands by thespectators of both sexes! such a stentorian word of command orencouragement from the bourgeois! Now and then there would be a slighthalt, a wavering, as if carriage and men were about to tumble backwardsinto the plain below; but no--they would recover themselves, and afterincredible efforts they too safely gained the table-land above. Inprocess of time all were landed there, and, having remunerated ourfriends to their satisfaction, the goods and chattels were collected, the wagon repacked, and we set off for our encampment at Turtle Creek. 

The exertions and excitement of our laborious ascent, together with theincreasing heat of the sun, made this afternoon's ride moreuncomfortable than anything we had previously felt. We were trulyrejoiced when the whoop of our guide, and the sight of a few scatteredlodges, gave notice that we had reached our encamping-ground. We chose abeautiful sequestered spot by the side of a clear, sparkling stream, and, having dismounted and seen that our horses were made comfortable, my husband, after giving his directions to his men, led me to a retiredspot where I could lay aside my hat and mask and bathe my flushed faceand aching head in the cool, refreshing waters. Never had I feltanything so grateful, so delicious. I sat down, and leaned my headagainst one of the tall, overshadowing trees, and was almost dreaming, when summoned to partake of our evening meal. 

The Indians had brought us, as a present, some fine brook trout, whichour Frenchmen had prepared in the most tempting fashion, and before thebright moon rose and we were ready for oar rest, all headache andfatigue had alike disappeared. 

 * * * * *

One of the most charming features of this mode of travelling is thejoyous, vocal life of the forest at early dawn, when all the featheredtribe come forth to pay their cheerful salutations to the opening day. 

The rapid, chattering flourish of the bob-o'-link, the soft whistle ofthe thrush, the tender coo of the wood-dove, the deep, warbling bass ofthe grouse, the drumming of the partridge, the melodious trill of thelark, the gay carol of the robin, the friendly, familiar call of theduck and the teal, resound from tree and knoll and lowland, promptingthe expressive exclamation of the simple half-breed, --

"Voilà la forêt qui parle!"[46]

It seems as if man must involuntarily raise his voice, to take part inthe general chorus--the mating song of praise. 

Birds and flowers, and the soft balmy airs of morning! Must it not havebeen in a scene like this that Milton's Adam poured out his beautifulhymn of adoration, --

"These are thy glorious works, Parent of Good"?

This day we were journeying in hopes to reach, at an early hour, thatbroad expanse of the Rock River which here forms the Kosh-ko-nong. Theappellation of this water, rendered doubly affecting by the subsequentfate of its people, imports "_the lake we live on_. "

Our road for the early part of the day led through forests so thick andtangled that Grignon and Lecuyer were often obliged to go in advance aspioneers with their axes, to cut away the obstructing shrubs andbranches. It was slow work, and at times quite discouraging, but we werethrough with it at last, and then we came into a country of altogether adifferent description, --low prairies, intersected with deep, narrowstreams like canals, the passage of which, either by horses orcarriages, was often a matter of delay and even difficulty. 

Several times in the course of the forenoon the horses were to be takenfrom the carriage and the latter pulled and pushed across the deepnarrow channels as best it might. 

The wooded banks of the Kosh-ko-nong were never welcomed with greaterdelight than by us when they at length broke upon our sight. A ride offive or six miles through the beautiful oak openings brought us to_Man-Eater's_ village, a collection of neat bark wigwams, with extensivefields on each side of corn, beans, and squashes, recently planted, butalready giving promise of a fine crop. In front was the broad blue lake, the shores of which, to the south, were open and marshy, but near thevillage, and stretching far away to the north, were bordered by finelofty trees. The village was built but a short distance below the pointwhere the Rock River opens into the lake, and during a conversationbetween our party and the Indians at the village, an arrangement wasmade with them to take us across at a spot about half a mile above. 

After a short halt, we again took up our line of march through thewoods, along the bank of the river. 

A number of the Winnebagoes (for we had been among our own people sinceleaving Gros-pied Lake) set out for the appointed place by water, paddling their canoes, of which they had selected the largest andstrongest. 

Arrived at the spot indicated, we dismounted, and the men commenced thetask of unsaddling and unloading. We were soon placed in the canoes, andpaddled across to the opposite bank. Next, the horses were swumacross--after them was to come the carriage. Two long wooden canoes weresecurely lashed together side by side, and being of sufficient width toadmit of the carriage standing within them, the passage was commenced. Again and again the tottering barks would sway from side to side, and acry or a shout would arise from our party on shore, as the whole massseemed about to plunge sideways into the water, but it would presentlyrecover itself, and at length, after various deviations from theperpendicular, it reached the shore in safety. 

We now hoped that our troubles were at an end, and that we had nothingto do but to mount and trot on as fast as possible to Fort Winnebago. But no. Half a mile farther on was a formidable swamp, of no great widthit is true, but with a depth of from two to three feet of mud and water. It was a question whether, with the carriage, we could get through it atall. Several of the Indians accompanied us to this place, partly to giveus their aid and counsel, and partly to enjoy the fun of the spectacle. 

On reaching the swamp, we were disposed to laugh at the formidablerepresentations which had been made to us. We saw only a strip of whatseemed rather low land, covered with tall, dry rushes. 

It is true the ground looked a little wet, but there seemed nothing tojustify all the apprehensions that had been excited. Great was mysurprise, then, to see my husband, who had been a few minutes absent, return to our circle attired in his duck trousers, and without shoes orstockings. 

"What are you going to do?" inquired I. 

"Carry you through the swamp on my shoulders. Come, Petaille, you arethe strongest--you are to carry Madame Kinzie, and To-shun-nuck there(pointing to a tall, stout Winnebago), he will take Madame Helm. "

"Wait a moment, " said I, and, seating myself on the grass, Ideliberately took off my own boots and stockings. 

"What is that for?" they all asked. 

"Because I do not wish to ride with wet feet all the rest of the day. "

"No danger of that, " said they, and no one followed my example. 

By the time they were in the midst of the swamp, however, they found myprecaution had been by no means useless. The water through which ourbearers had to pass was of such a depth that no efforts of the ladieswere sufficient to keep their feet above the surface; and I had thesatisfaction of feeling that my burden upon my husband's shoulders wasmuch less, from my being able to keep my first position instead ofchanging constantly to avoid a contact with the water. 

The laugh was quite on my side when I resumed my equipment and mounted, _dry-shod_, into my saddle. 

It will be perceived that journeying in the woods is, in some degree, aderanger of ceremony and formality; that it necessarily restricts ussomewhat in our conventionalities. The only remedy is, to make ourselvesamends by a double share when we return to the civilized walks of life. 

By dint of much pulling, shouting, encouraging, and threatening, thehorses at length dragged the carriage through the difficult pass, andour red friends were left to return to their village, with, doubtless, avery exaggerated and amusing account of all that they had seen andassisted in. 

We had not forgotten our promise to Lieutenant Foster to put up a"guide-board" of some sort, for his accommodation in following us. Wetherefore, upon several occasions, carried with us from the woods a fewpieces, of three or four feet in length, which we planted at certainpoints, with a transverse stick through a cleft in the top, thus markingthe direction he and his party were to take. 

We therefore felt sure that, although a few days later, he would findour trail, and avail himself of the same assistance as we had, ingetting through the difficulties of the way. 

Our encamping-ground, this night, was to be not far distant from theFour Lakes. We were greatly fatigued with the heat and exercise of theday, and most anxiously did we look out for the clumps of willows andalders which were to mark the spot where water would be found. We felthardly equal to pushing on quite to the bank of the nearest lake. Indeed, it would have taken us too much off our direct course. 

When we, at a late hour, came upon a spot fit for our purpose, weexchanged mutual congratulations that this was to be our last night uponthe road. The next day we should be at Winnebago!

Our journey had been most delightful--a continued scene of exhilarationand enjoyment; for the various mishaps, although for the moment they hadperplexed, yet, in the end, had but added to our amusement. Still, withthe inconstancy of human nature, we were pleased to exchange itsexcitement for the quiet repose of home. 

Our next morning's ride was of a more tranquil character than any thathad preceded it; for at an early hour we entered upon what was known asthe "Twenty-mile Prairie, "--and I may be permitted to observe that themiles are wonderfully long on the prairies. Our passage over this was, except the absence of the sand, like crossing the desert. Mile aftermile of unbroken expanse--not a tree--not a living object exceptourselves. 

The sun, as if to make himself amends for his two months' seclusion, shone forth with redoubled brilliancy. There is no such thing ascarrying an umbrella on horseback, though those in the wagon were ableto avail themselves of such a shelter. 

Our mother's energies had sustained her in the saddle until this day, but she was now fairly obliged to give in, and yield her place on littleBrunet to sister Margaret. 

Thus we went on, one little knoll rising beyond another, from the summitof each of which, in succession, we hoped to descry the distant woods, which were to us as the promised land. 

"Take courage, " were the cheering words, often repeated; "very soon youwill begin to see the timber. "

Another hour would pass heavily by. 

"Now, when we reach the rising ground just ahead, look _sharp_. "

We would look sharp--nothing but the same unvarying landscape. 

There were not even streams to allay the feverish thirst occasioned byfatigue and impatience. 

At length a whoop from Shaw-nee-aw-kee broke the silence in which wewere pursuing our way. 

"Le voilà!" (There it is!)

Our less practised eye could not at first discern the faint blue stripedging the horizon, but it grew and grew upon our vision, and fatigueand all discomfort proportionably disappeared. 

We were in fine spirits by the time we reached "Hastings's Woods, " anoble forest, watered by a clear, sparkling stream. 

Grateful as was the refreshment of the green foliage and the coolingwaters, we did not allow ourselves to forget that the day was wearingon, and that we must, if possible, complete our journey before sunset;so we soon braced up our minds to continue our route, although we wouldgladly have lingered another hour. 

The marsh of Duck Creek was, thanks to the heat of the past week, in avery different state from what it had been a few months previous, when Ihad been so unfortunately submerged in its icy waters. 

We passed it without difficulty, and soon found ourselves upon the banksof the creek. 

The stream, at this point, was supposed to be always fordable; and evenwere it not so, that to the majority of our party would have been amatter of little moment. To the ladies, however, the subject seemed todemand consideration. 

"This water looks very deep--are you sure we can cross it on horseback?"

"Oh, yes! Petaille, go before, and let us see how the water is. "

Petaille obeyed. He was mounted on a horse like a giraffe, and, extending his feet horizontally, he certainly managed to pass throughthe stream without much of a wetting. 

It seemed certain that the water would come into the wagon, but that wasof the less consequence as, in case of the worst, the passengers couldmount upon the seats. 

My horse, Jerry, was above the medium height, so that I soon passedover, with no inconvenience but that of being obliged to disengage myfeet from the stirrups and tuck them up snugly against the mane of thehorse. 

Sister Margaret was still upon Brunet. She was advised to change him forone of the taller horses, but while the matter was under debate, it wassettled by the perverse little wretch taking to the water mostunceremoniously, in obedience to the example of the other animals. 

He was soon beyond his depth, and we were at once alarmed and divertedat seeing his rider, with surprising adroitness, draw her feet from thestirrups and perch herself upon the top of the saddle, where she heldher position, and navigated her little refractory steed safely to land. 

This was the last of our adventures. A pleasant ride of four milesbrought us to the Fort, just as the sun was throwing his last beams overthe glowing landscape; and on reaching the ferry we were at onceconducted, by the friends who were awaiting us, to the hospitable roofof Major Twiggs. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

FOUR-LEGS, THE DANDY. 

The companies of the First Infantry, which had hitherto been stationedat Fort Winnebago, had before our arrival received orders to move on tothe Mississippi as soon as relieved by a portion of the Fifth, now atFort Howard. 

As many of the officers of the latter regiment were married, we hadreason to expect that all the quarters at the post would be put inrequisition. For this reason, although strongly pressed by Major Twiggsto take up our residence again in the Fort until he should go onfurlough, we thought it best to establish ourselves at once at "theAgency. "

It seemed laughable to give so grand a name to so very insignificant aconcern. We had been promised, by the heads of department at Washington, a comfortable dwelling so soon as there should be an appropriation byCongress sufficient to cover any extra expense in the Indian Department. It was evident that Congress had a great spite at us, for it had delayedfor two sessions attending to our accommodation. There was nothing to bedone, therefore, but to make ourselves comfortable with the best meansin our power. 

The old log barracks, which had been built for the officers and soldierson the first establishment of the post, two years previous, had beenremoved by our French engagés and put up again upon the little hillopposite the Fort. To these some additions were now made in the shapeof dairy, stables, smoke-house, etc. , constructed of tamarack logsbrought from the neighboring swamp. The whole presented a very rough andprimitive appearance. 

The main building consisted of a range of four rooms, no two of whichcommunicated with each other, but each opened by a door into the outwardair. A small window cut through the logs in front and rear, gave lightto the apartment. An immense clay chimney for every two rooms, occupiedone side of each, and the ceiling overhead was composed of a few roughboards laid upon the transverse logs that supported the roof. 

It was surprising how soon a comfortable, homelike air was given to theold dilapidated rooms, by a few Indian mats spread upon the floor, thepiano and other furniture ranged in their appropriate places, and even afew pictures hung against the logs. The latter, alas! had soon to bedisplaced, for with the first heavy shower the rain found entrancethrough sundry crevices, and we saw ourselves obliged to put aside, carefully, everything that could be injured by the moisture. We madelight of these evils, however--packed away our carpets and superfluousfurniture upon the boards above, which we dignified with the name ofattic, and contentedly resolved to await the time when Government shouldcondescend to remember us. The greatest inconvenience I experienced, wasfrom the necessity of wearing my straw bonnet throughout the day, as Ijourneyed from bedroom to parlor, and from parlor to kitchen. I becameso accustomed to it that I even sometimes forgot to remove it when I satdown to table, or to my quiet occupations with my mother and sister. 

Permission was, however, in time, received to build a house for theblacksmith--that is, the person kept in pay by the Government at thisstation to mend the guns, traps, etc. Of the Indians. 

It happened most fortunately for us that Monsieur Isidore Morrin was abachelor, and quite satisfied to continue boarding with his friend LouisFrum, _dit_ Manaigre, so that when the new house was fairly commenced weplanned it and hurried it forward entirely on our own account. 

It was not very magnificent, it is true, consisting of but a parlor andtwo bedrooms on the ground-floor, and two low chambers under the roof, with a kitchen in the rear; but compared with the rambling oldstable-like building we now inhabited, it seemed quite a palace. 

Before it was completed, Mr. Kinzie was notified that the money for theannual Indian payment was awaiting his arrival in Detroit to take it incharge and superintend its transportation to the Portage; and he wasobliged to set off at once to fulfil this part of his duty. 

The workmen who had been brought from the Mississippi to erect the mainbuilding, were fully competent to carry on their work without anoverseer; but the kitchen was to be the task of the Frenchmen, and thequestion was, how could it be executed in the absence of the_bourgeois_?

"You will have to content yourselves in the old quarters until myreturn, " said my husband, "and then we will soon have things in order. "His journey was to be a long and tedious one, for the operations ofGovernment were not carried on by railroad and telegraph in those days. 

After his departure I said to the men, "Come, you have all your logs cutand hauled--the squaws have brought the bark for the roof--what is toprevent our finishing the house and getting all moved and settled tosurprise Monsieur John on his return?"

"Ah! to be sure, Madame John, " said Plante, who was always thespokesman, "provided the one who plants a green bough on the chimney-topis to have a treat. "

"Certainly. All hands fall to work, and see who will win the treat. "

Upon the strength of such an inducement to the one who should put thefinishing stroke to the building, Plante, Pillon, and Manaigre, whom thewaggish Plante persisted in calling "mon nègre, " whenever he felthimself out of the reach of the other's arm, all went vigorously towork. 

Building a log house is a somewhat curious process. First, as will beconceived, the logs are laid one upon another and jointed at thecorners, until the walls have reached the required height. The chimneyis formed by four poles of the proper length, interlaced with awicker-work of small branches. A hole or pit is dug, near at hand, and, with a mixture of clay and water, a sort of mortar is formed. Largewisps of hay are filled with this thick substance, and fashioned withthe hands into what are technically called "_clay cats_, " and these arefilled in among the frame-work of the chimney until not a chink is left. The whole is then covered with a smooth coating of the wet clay, whichis denominated "plastering. "

Between the logs which compose the walls of the building, small bits ofwood are driven, quite near together; this is called "chinking, " andafter it is done, clay cats are introduced, and smoothed over with theplaster. When all is dry, both walls and chimney are whitewashed, andpresent a comfortable and tidy appearance. 

The roof is formed by laying upon the transverse logs thick sheets ofbark. Around the chimney, for greater security against the rain, we tookcare to have placed a few layers of the palisades that had been leftwhen Mr. Peach, an odd little itinerant genius, had fenced in ourgarden, the pride and wonder of the surrounding settlement and wigwams. 

While all these matters were in progress, we received frequent visitsfrom our Indian friends. First and foremost among them was "the youngDandy, " Four-Legs. 

One fine morning he made his appearance, accompanied by two squaws, whomhe introduced as his wives. He could speak a little Chippewa, and bythis means he and our mother contrived to keep up something of aconversation. He was dressed in all his finery, brooches, wampum, fan, looking-glass and all. The paint upon his face and chest showed that hehad devoted no small time to the labors of his toilet. 

He took a chair, as he had seen done at Washington, and made signs tohis women to sit down upon the floor. 

The custom of taking two wives is not very general among the Indians. They seem to have the sagacity to perceive that the fewer they have tomanage, the more complete is the peace and quiet of the wigwam. 

Nevertheless, it sometimes happens that a husband takes a foolish fancyfor a second squaw, and in that case he uses all his cunning andeloquence to reconcile the first to receiving a new inmate in the lodge. Of course it is a matter that must be managed adroitly, in order thatharmony may be preserved. 

"My dear, your health is not very good; it is time you should have somerest. You have worked very hard, and it grieves me that you should haveto labor any longer. Let me get you some nice young squaw to wait uponyou, that you may live at ease all the rest of your life. "

The first wife consents; indeed, she has no option. If she is of ajealous, vindictive disposition, what a life the new-comer leads! Theold one maintains all her rights of dowager and duenna, and thehusband's tenderness is hardly a compensation for all the evils theyoung rival is made to suffer. 

It was on Sunday morning that this visit of the Dandy was made to us. Wewere all seated quietly, engaged in reading. Four-Legs inquired of mymother, why we were so occupied, and why everything around us was sostill. 

My mother explained to him our observance of the day of rest--that wedevoted it to worshipping and serving the Great Spirit, as he hadcommanded in his Holy Word. 

Four-Legs gave a nod of approbation. That was very right, he said--hewas glad to see us doing our duty--he was very religious himself, and heliked to see others so. He always took care that his squaws attended totheir duties, --not reading, perhaps, but such as the Great Spirit liked, and such as he thought proper and becoming. 

He seemed to have no fancy for listening to any explanation of ourpoints of difference. The impression among the Winnebagoes "that if theGreat Spirit had wished them different from what they are, he would havemade them so, " seems too strong to yield to either argument orpersuasion. 

Sometimes those who are desirous of appearing somewhat civilized willlisten quietly to all that is advanced on the subject of Christianity, then, coolly saying, "Yes, we believe that too, " will change theconversation to other subjects. 

As a general thing, they do not appear to perceive that there isanything to be gained by adopting the religion and the customs of thewhites. "Look at them, " they say, "always toiling and striving--alwayswearing a brow of care--shut up in houses--afraid of the wind and therain--suffering when they are deprived of the comforts of life! We, onthe contrary, live a life of freedom and happiness. We hunt and fish, and pass our time pleasantly in the open woods and prairies. If we arehungry, we take some game; or, if we do not find that, we can gowithout. If our enemies trouble us, we can kill them, and there is nomore said about it. What should we gain by changing ourselves into whitemen?"[47]

Christian missionaries, with all their efforts to convert them, had atthis day made little progress in enlightening their minds upon thedoctrines of the Gospel. Mr. Mazzuchelli, a Roman Catholic priest, accompanied by Miss Elizabeth Grignon as interpreter, made a missionaryvisit to the Portage during our residence there, and, after someinstruction from him, about forty consented to be baptized. Christiannames were given to them, with which they seemed much pleased; and notless so with the little plated crucifixes which each received, and whichthe women wore about their necks. These they seemed to regard with adevotional feeling; but I was not sufficiently acquainted with theirlanguage to gather from them whether they understood the doctrine thesymbol was designed to convey. Certain it is, they expressed no wish tolearn our language, in order that they might gain a fuller knowledge ofthe Saviour, nor any solicitude to be taught more about him than theyhad received during the missionary's short visit. 

One woman, to whom the name of Charlotte had been given, signified adesire to learn the domestic ways of the whites, and asked of me as afavor through Madame Paquette that she might be permitted to come on"washing-day, " and learn of my servants our way of managing thebusiness. A tub was given her, and my woman instructed her, by signs andexample, how she was to manage. As I was not a little curious to observehow things went on, I proceeded after a time to the kitchen where theyall were. Charlotte was at her tub, scouring and rubbing with all hermight at her little crucifix. Two other squaws sat upon the floor nearher, watching the operation. 

"That is the work she has been at for the last half-hour, " said Josette, in a tone of great impatience. "_She'll_ never learn to wash. "

Charlotte, however, soon fell diligently to work, and really seemed asif she would tear her arms off, with her violent exertions. 

After a time, supposing that she must feel a good deal fatigued andexhausted with the unaccustomed labor, I did what it was at that dayvery much the fashion to do, --what, at home, I had always seen done onwashing-day, --what, in short, I imagine was then a general custom amonghousekeepers. I went to the dining-room closet, intending to giveCharlotte a glass of wine or brandy and water. My "cupboard" proved tobe in the state of the luckless "Mother Hubbard's"--nothing of the kindcould I find but a bottle of orange shrub. 

Of this I poured out a wineglassful, and, carrying it out, offered it tothe woman. She took it with an expression of great pleasure; but, incarrying it to her lips, she stopped short, and exclaiming, "Whiskey!"immediately returned it to me. I would still have pressed it upon her;for, in my inexperience, I really believed it was a cordial she needed;but, pointing to her crucifix, she shook her head and returned to herwork. 

I received this as a lesson more powerful than twenty sermons. It wasthe first time in my life that I had ever seen spirituous liquorsrejected upon a religious principle, and it made an impression upon methat I never forgot. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE CUT-NOSE. 

Among the women of the tribe with whom we early became acquainted, ourgreatest favorite was a daughter of one of the Day-kau-rays. Thisfamily, as I have elsewhere said, boasted in some remote generation across of the French blood, and this fact might account for the faircomplexion and soft curling hair which distinguished our friend. She hada noble forehead, full, expressive eyes, and fine teeth. Unlike thewomen of her people, she had not grown brown and haggard with advancingyears. Indeed, with the exception of one feature, she might be calledbeautiful. 

She had many years before married a Mus-qua-kee, or Fox Indian, and, according to the custom among all the tribes, the husband came home tothe wife's family, and lived among the Winnebagoes. 

It is this custom, so exactly the reverse of civilized ways, that makesthe birth of a daughter a subject of peculiar rejoicing in an Indianfamily. "She will bring another hunter to our lodge, " is the style ofmutual congratulation. 

The Mus-qua-kee continued, for some few years, to live among his wife'srelations; but, as no children blessed their union, he at length becametired of his new friends, and longed to return to his own people. Hetried, for a time, to persuade his wife to leave her home, and accompanyhim to the Mississippi, on the banks of which the Sauks and Foxes lived, but in vain. She could not resolve to make the sacrifice. 

One day, after many fruitless efforts to persuade her, he flew into aviolent passion. 

"Then, if you will not go with me, " said he, "I will leave you; but youshall never be the wife of any other man--I will mark you!"

Saying this, he flew upon her, and bit off the end of her nose. This, the usual punishment for conjugal infidelity, is the greatest disgrace awoman can receive--it bars her forever from again entering the pale ofmatrimony. The wretch fled to his own people; but his revenge fell shortof its aim. Day-kau-ray was too well known and too universally respectedto suffer opprobrium in any member of his family. This bright, lovingcreature in particular, won all hearts upon a first acquaintance--shecertainly did ours, from the outset. 

She suffered much from rheumatism, and a remedy we gave her soonafforded her almost entire relief. Her gratitude knew no bounds. Notwithstanding that from long suffering she had become partiallycrippled, she would walk all the way from the Barribault, a distance often miles, as often as once in two or three weeks, to visit us. Then, tosit and gaze at us, to laugh with childish glee at everything new orstrange that we employed ourselves about--to pat and stroke us everytime we came near her--sometimes to raise our hand or arm and kissit--these were her demonstrations of affection. And we loved her inreturn. It was always a joyful announcement when, looking out over thePortage road, somebody called out, "The _Cut-Nose_ is coming!" In time, however, we learned to call her by her baptismal name of Elizabeth, forshe, too, was one of Mr. Mazzuchelli's converts. 

She came one day, accompanied by a half-grown boy, carrying a young fawnshe had brought me as a present. I was delighted with the prettycreature--with its soft eyes and dappled coat; but having often heardthe simile, "as wild as a fawn, " I did not anticipate much success intaming it. To my great surprise, it soon learned to follow me like adog. Wherever I went, there Fan was sure to be. At breakfast, she wouldlie down at my feet, under the table. One of her first tokens ofaffection was to gnaw off all the trimming from my black silk apron, asshe lay pretending to caress and fondle me. Nor was this her only styleof mischief. 

One day we heard a great rattling among the crockery in the kitchen. Weran to see what was the matter, and found that Miss Fan had made her wayto a shelf of the dresser, about two feet from the ground, and wasendeavoring to find a comfortable place to lie down, among the platesand dishes. I soon observed that it was the shelter of the shelf aboveher head that was the great attraction, and that she was in the habit ofseeking out a place of repose under a chair, or something approaching toan "umbrageous bower. " So after this I took care, as the hour for hermorning nap approached, to open a large green parasol, and set it on thematting in the corner--then when I called "Fan, Fan, " she would come andnestle under it, and soon fall fast asleep. 

One morning Fan was missing. In vain we called and sought her in thegarden--in the enclosure for the cattle--at the houses of theFrenchmen--along the hill towards Paquette's--no Fan was to be found. Wethought she had asserted her own wild nature and sped away to the woods. 

It was a hot forenoon, and the doors were all open. About dinner-time, in rushed Fan, panting violently, and threw herself upon her side, whereshe lay with her feet outstretched, her mouth foaming, and exhibitingall the signs of mortal agony. We tried to give her water, to sootheher, if perhaps it might be fright that so affected her; but in a fewminutes, with a gasp and a spasm, she breathed her last. Whether she hadbeen chased by the greyhounds, or whether she had eaten some poisonousweed, which, occasioning her suffering, had driven her to her bestfriends for aid, we never knew; but we lost our pretty pet, and manywere the tears shed for her. 

 * * * * *

Very shortly after the departure of my husband, we received a visit from"the White Crow, " the "Little Priest, " and several others of theprincipal chiefs of the Bock River Indians. They seemed greatlydisappointed at learning that their Father was from home, even thoughhis errand was to get "the silver. " We sent for Paquette, whointerpreted for us the object of their visit. 

They had come to inform us that the Sauk chief Black Hawk and his band, who, in compliance with a former treaty, had removed some time previousto the west of the Mississippi, had now returned to their old homes andhunting-grounds, and expressed a determination not to relinquish them, but to drive off the white settlers who had begun to occupy them. 

The latter, in fact, the chief had already done, and having, as it wassaid, induced some of the Pottowattamies to join him, there was reasonto fear that he might persuade some of the Winnebagoes to follow theirexample. 

These chiefs had come to counsel with their Father, and to assure himthat they should do all in their power to keep their young men quiet. They had heard that troops were being raised down among the whites inIllinois, and they had hopes that their people would be wise enough tokeep out of difficulty. Furthermore, they begged that their Father, onhis return, would see that the soldiers did not meddle with them, solong as they remained quiet and behaved in a friendly manner. 

White Crow seemed particularly anxious to impress it upon me, that ifany danger should arise in Shaw-nee-aw-kee's absence, he should comewith his people to protect me and my family. I relied upon hisassurances, for he had ever shown himself an upright and honorableIndian. 

Notwithstanding this, the thoughts of Indian troubles so near us, in theabsence of our guardian and protector, occasioned us many an anxiousmoment, and it was not until we learned of the peaceable retreat of theSauks and Foxes west of the Mississippi, that we were able wholly to layaside our fears. 

We were now called to part with our friends, Major Twiggs and hisfamily, which we did with heartfelt regret. He gave me a few partingwords about our old acquaintance, Krissman. 

"When I went into the barracks the other day, " said he, "about the timethe men were taking their dinner, I noticed a great six-foot soldierstanding against the window-frame, crying and blubbering. 'Halloo, ' saidI, 'what on earth does this mean?'

"'Why, that fellow there, ' said Krissman (for it was he), 'has scrowgedme out of my place!' A pretty soldier your protége will make, madam!"added the Major. 

I never heard more of my hero. Whether he went to exhibit his prowessagainst the Seminoles and Mexicans, or whether he returned to till thefertile soil of his native German Flats and blow his favorite boatman'shorn, must be left for some future historian to tell. 

There is one more character to be disposed of--Louisa. An opportunityoffering in the spring, the Major placed her under the charge of aperson going to Buffalo, that she might be returned to her parents. Incompliment to the new acquaintances she had formed, she shortened herskirts, mounted a pair of scarlet leggings embroidered withporcupine-quills, and took her leave of military life, having depositedwith the gentleman who took charge of her sixty dollars, for safekeeping, which she remarked "she had _saved up_, out of her wages at adollar a week, through the winter. "

 * * * * *

A very short time after we were settled in our new home at the Agency, we attempted the commencement of a little Sunday-school. Edwin, Harryand Josette were our most reliable scholars, but besides them there werethe two little Manaigres, Thérèse Paquette, and her mother'shalf-sister, Florence Courville, a pretty young girl of fifteen. None ofthese girls had even learned their letters. They spoke only French, orrather the Canadian _patois_, and it was exceedingly difficult to givethem at once the sound of the words, and their signification, which theywere careful to inquire. Besides this, there was the task of correctingthe false ideas, and remedying the ignorance and superstition whichpresented so formidable an obstacle to rational improvement. We did ourbest, however, and had the satisfaction of seeing them, after a time, making really respectable progress with their spelling-book, and, whatwas still more encouraging, acquiring a degree of light and knowledge inregard to better things. 

In process of time, however, Florence was often absent from her class. "Her sister, " she said, "could not always spare her. She wanted her tokeep house while she herself went over oil Sunday to visit her friendsthe Roys, who lived on the Wisconsin. "

We reasoned with Madame Paquette on the subject. "Could she not spareFlorence on some hour of the day? We would gladly teach her on aweek-day, for she seemed anxious to learn, but we had always been toldthat for that there was no time. "

"Well--she would see. Madame Alum (Helm) and Madame John were so kind!"

There was no improvement, however, in regularity. After a time Manaigrewas induced to send his children to Mr. Cadle's mission-school at GreenBay. Thérèse accompanied them, and very soon Florence discontinued herattendance altogether. 

We were obliged, from that time forward, to confine our instructions toour own domestic circle. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

INDIAN CUSTOMS AND DANCES. 

Before we had any right to look for my husband's return, I one dayreceived a message inviting me to come up to the new house. We all wentin a body, for we had purposely stayed away a few days, expecting thissummons, of which we anticipated the meaning. 

Plante, in full glee, was seated astride of a small keg on the roof, close beside the kitchen chimney, on the very summit of which he hadplanted a green bough. To this he held fast with one hand, while heexultingly waved the other and called out, --

"_Eh ban, Madame John! à cette heure, pour le régal!_"

"Yes, Plante, you are entitled to a treat, and I hope you will not enjoyit the less that Pillon and Manaigre are to share it with you. "

A suitable gratification made them quite contented with their"_bourgeoise_, " against whom Plante had sometimes been inclined togrumble, "because, " as he said, "she had him called up too early in themorning. " He might have added, because, too, she could not understandthe philosophy of his coming in to work in his own garden, under theplea that it was too rainy to work in Monsieur John's. 

It was with no ordinary feelings of satisfaction that we quitted the oldlog tenement and took possession of our new dwelling, small andinsignificant though it was. 

I was only too happy to enjoy the luxury of a real bedchamber, in placeof the parlor floor which I had occupied as such for more than twomonths. It is true that our culinary arrangements were still upon nogreatly improved plan. The clay chimney was not of sufficient strengthto hold the trammel and pot-hooks, which at that day had not beensuperseded by the cooking-stove and kitchen-range. Our fire was made asin the olden time, with vast logs behind, and smaller sticks in front, laid across upon the andirons or _dogs_. Upon these sticks were placedsuch of the cooking-utensils as could not be accommodated on the hearth;but woe to the dinner or the supper, if through a little want of care orscrutiny one treacherous piece was suffered to burn away. Down wouldcome the whole arrangement--kettles, saucepans, burning brands, andcinders, in one almost inextricable mass. How often this happened underthe supervision of Harry or little Josette, while the mistress wasplaying lady to some visitor in the parlor, "'twere vain to tell. "

Then, spite of Monsieur Plante's palisades round the chimney, in a hardshower the rain would come pelting down, and, the hearth unfortunatelysloping a little the wrong way, the fire would become extinguished;while, the bark on the roof failing to do its duty, we were now and thenso completely deluged, that there was no resource but to catch up thebreakfast or dinner and tuck it under the table until better times--thatis, till fair weather came again. In spite of all these little adverseoccurrences, however, we enjoyed our new quarters exceedingly. 

Our garden was well furnished with vegetables, and even thecurrant-bushes which we had brought from Chicago with us, tied in abundle at the back of the carriage, had produced us some fruit. 

The Indian women were very constant in their visits and their presents. Sometimes it was venison--sometimes ducks or pigeons--whortleberries, wild plums, or cranberries, according to the season--neat pretty matsfor the floor or the table--wooden bowls or ladles, fancy work ofdeer-skin or porcupine-quills. These they would bring in and throw at myfeet. If through inattention I failed to appear pleased, to raise thearticles from the floor and lay them carefully aside, a look ofmortification and the observation, "Our mother hates our gifts, " showedhow much their feelings were wounded. It was always expected that apresent would be received graciously, and returned with something twiceits value. 

Meantime, week after week wore on, and still was the return of "themaster" delayed. 

The rare arrival of a schooner at Green Bay, in which to take passagefor Detroit, made it always a matter of uncertainty what length of timewould be necessary for a journey across the lakes and back--so that itwas not until the last of August that he again reached his home. Greatwas his surprise to find us so nicely moved and settled; and under hisactive supervision the evils of which we had had to complain were soonremedied. 

My husband had met at Fort Gratiot, and brought with him, my youngbrother Julian, whom my parents were sending, at our request, to residewith us. Edwin was overjoyed to have a companion once more, for he hadhitherto been very solitary. The boys soon had enough to occupy theirattention, as, in obedience to a summons sent to the different villages, the Indians very shortly came flocking in to the payment. 

There was among their number, this year, one whom I had never beforeseen--the mother of the elder Day-kau-ray. No one could tell her age, but all agreed that she must have seen upwards of a hundred winters. Hereyes dimmed, and almost white with age--her face dark and withered, likea baked apple--her voice tremulous and feeble, except when raised infury to reprove her graceless grandsons, who were fond of playing herall sorts of mischievous tricks, indicated the very great age she musthave attained. 

She usually went upon all-fours, not having strength to hold herselferect. On the day of the payment, having received her portion, which shecarefully hid in the corner of her blanket, she came crawling along andseated herself on the door-step, to count her treasure. 

My sister and I were watching her movements from the open window. 

Presently, just as she had, unobserved, as she thought, spread out hersilver before her, two of her descendants came suddenly upon her. Atfirst they seemed begging for a share, but she repulsed them with angrygestures, when one of them made a sudden swoop, and possessed himself ofa handful. 

She tried to rise, to pursue him, but was unable to do more than clutchthe remainder and utter the most unearthly screams of rage. At thisinstant the boys raised their eyes and perceived us regarding them. Theyburst into a laugh, and with a sort of mocking gesture they threw herthe half-dollars, and ran back to the pay-ground. 

In spite of their vexatious tricks, she seemed very fond of them, andnever failed to beg something of her Father, that she might bestow uponthem. 

She crept into the parlor one morning, then straightening herself up, and supporting herself by the frame of the door, she cried, in a mostpiteous tone, --"Shaw-nee-aw-kee! Wau-tshob-ee-rah Thsoonsh-koo-nee-noh!"(Silver-man, I have no looking-glass. ) My husband, smiling and taking upthe same little tone, cried, in return, --

"Do you wish to look at yourself, mother?"

The idea seemed to her so irresistibly comic that she laughed until shewas fairly obliged to seat herself upon the floor and give way to herenjoyment. She then owned that it was for one of the boys that shewanted the little mirror. When her Father had given it to her, she foundthat she had "no comb, " then that she had "no knife, " then that she had"no calico shawl, " until it ended, as it generally did, byShaw-nee-aw-kee paying pretty dearly for his joke. 

 * * * * *

When the Indians arrived and when they departed, my sense of "woman'srights" was often greatly outraged. The master of the family, as ageneral thing, came leisurely bearing his gun and perhaps a lance in hishand; the woman, with the mats and poles of her lodge upon hershoulders, her pappoose, if she had one, her kettles, sacks of corn, andwild rice, and, not unfrequently, the household dog perched on the topof all. If there is a horse or pony in the list of family possessions, the man rides, the squaw trudges after. 

This unequal division of labor is the result of no want of kind, affectionate feeling on the part of the husband. It is rather theinstinct of the sex to assert their superiority of position andimportance, when a proper occasion offers. When out of the reach ofobservation, and in no danger of compromising his own dignity, thehusband is willing enough to relieve his spouse from the burden thatcustom imposes on her, by sharing her labors and hardships. 

The payment had not passed without its appropriate number ofcomplimentary and medicine dances. The latter take place only at rareintervals--the former whenever an occasion demanding a manifestation ofrespect and courtesy presents itself. 

It is the custom to ask permission of the person to be complimented, todance for him. This granted, preparation is made by painting the faceelaborately, and marking the person, which is usually bare about thechest and shoulders, after the most approved pattern. All the ornamentsthat can be mustered are added to the hair, or headdress. Happy is hewho, in virtue of having taken one or more scalps, is entitled toproclaim it by a corresponding number of eagle's feathers. 

The less fortunate make a substitute of the feathers of the wild turkey, or, better still, of the first unlucky "rooster" that falls in theirway. My poor fowls, during the time of payment, were always thoroughlyplucked. 

When their preparations are completed, the dancers assemble at someconvenient place, whence they come marching to the spot appointed, accompanied by the music of the Indian drum and shee-shee-qua or rattle. They range themselves in a circle and dance with violent contortions andgesticulations, some of them graceful, others only energetic, thesquaws, who stand a little apart and mingle their discordant voices withthe music of the instruments, rarely participating in the dance. Occasionally, however, when excited by the general gaiety, a few of themwill form a circle outside and perform a sort of ungraceful, up-and-downmovement, which has no merit, save the perfect time which is kept, andfor which the Indians seem, without exception, to possess a natural ear. The dance finished, which is only when the strength of the dancers isquite exhausted, a quantity of presents are brought and placed in themiddle of the circle, by order of the party complimented. An equitabledistribution is made by one of their number; and, the object of all thisdisplay having been accomplished, they retire. 

The medicine dance is carried on chiefly to celebrate the skill of the"Medicine-man" in curing diseases. This functionary belongs to afraternity who are supposed to add to their other powers some skill ininterpreting the will of the Great Spirit in regard to the conduct ofhis people. He occasionally makes offerings and sacrifices which areregarded as propitiatory. In this sense, the term "priest" may be deemedapplicable to him. He is also a "prophet" in so far as he is, in alimited degree, an instructor; but he does not claim to possess the giftof foretelling future events. 

A person is selected to join the fraternity of the "Medicine-man" bythose already initiated, chiefly on account of some skill or sagacitythat has been observed in him. Sometimes it happens that a person whohas had a severe illness which has yielded to the prescriptions of oneof the members, is considered a proper object of choice from a sort ofclaim thus established. 

When he is about to be initiated, a great feast is made, of course atthe expense of the candidate, for in simple as in civilized life thesame principle of politics holds good, "honors must be paid for. " Ananimal is killed and dressed, of which the people at largepartake--there are dances and songs and speeches in abundance. Then thechief Medicine-man takes the candidate and privately instructs him inall the ceremonies and knowledge necessary to make him an accomplishedmember of the fraternity. Sometimes the new member selected is still achild. In that case he is taken by the Medicine-man so soon as hereaches a proper age, and qualified by instruction and example to becomea creditable member of the fraternity. 

Among the Winnebagoes there seems a considerable belief in magic. EachMedicine-man has a bag or sack, in which is supposed to be inclosed someanimal, to whom, in the course of their _pow-wows_, he addresseshimself, crying to him in the note common to his imagined species. Andthe people seem to be persuaded that the answers which are announced arereally communications, in this form, from the Great Spirit. 

The Indians appear to have no idea of a retribution beyond this life. They have a strong appreciation of the great fundamental virtues ofnatural religion--the worship of the Great Spirit, brotherly love, parental affection, honesty, temperance, and chastity. Any infringementof the laws of the Great Spirit, by a departure from these virtues, theybelieve will excite his anger and draw down punishment. These are theirprinciples. That their practice evinces more and more a departure fromthem, under the debasing influences of a proximity to the whites, is amelancholy truth, which no one will admit with so much sorrow as thosewho lived among them, and esteemed them, before this signal change hadtaken place. 

 * * * * *

One of the first improvements that suggested itself about our newdwelling, was the removal of some very unsightly pickets surrounding twoor three Indian graves, on the esplanade in front of the house. Such, however, is the reverence in which these burial-places are held, that wefelt we must approach the subject with great delicacy and consideration. 

My husband at length ventured to propose to Mrs. "Pawnee Blanc, " thenearest surviving relative of the person interred, to replace thepickets with a neat wooden platform. 

The idea pleased her much, for, through her intimacy in Paquette'sfamily, she had acquired something of a taste for civilization. Accordingly, a little platform about a foot in height, properly finishedwith a moulding around the edge, was substituted for the worn andblackened pickets; and it was touching to witness the mournfulsatisfaction with which two or three old crones would come regularlyevery evening at sunset, to sit and gossip over the ashes of theirdeparted relatives. 

On the fine moonlight nights, too, there might often be seen a groupsitting there, and enjoying what is to them a solemn hour, for theyentertain the poetic belief that "the moon was made to give light to thedead. "

The reverence of the Indians for the memory of their departed friends, and their dutiful attention in visiting and making offerings to theGreat Spirit, over their last resting-places, is an example worthy ofimitation among their more enlightened brethren. Not so, however, withsome of their customs in relation to the dead. 

The news of the decease of one of their number is a signal for a generalmourning and lamentation; it is also in some instances, I am sorry tosay, when the means and appliances can be found, the apology for ageneral carouse. 

The relatives weep and howl for grief--the friends and acquaintance bearthem company through sympathy. A few of their number are deputed to waitupon their Father, to inform him of the event, and to beg some presents"to help them, " as they express it, "dry up their tears. "

We received such a visit one morning, not long after the payment wasconcluded. 

A drunken little Indian, named, by the French people around, "OldBoilvin, " from his resemblance to an Indian Agent of that name atPrairie du Chien, was the person on account of whose death theapplication was made. "He had been fishing, " they said, "on the shoresof one of the little lakes near the Portage, and, having taken a littletoo much '_whiskee_, ' had fallen into the water and been drowned. "Nothing of him had been found but his blanket on the bank, so therecould be no funeral ceremonies, but his friends were prepared to make agreat lamentation about him. 

Their Father presented them with tobacco, knives, calico, andlooking-glasses, in proportion to what he thought might be theirreasonable grief at the loss of such a worthless vagabond, and theydeparted. 

There was no difficulty, notwithstanding the stringent prohibitions onthe subject, in procuring a keg of whiskey from some of the traders whoyet remained. Armed with that and their other treasures, they assembledat an appointed spot, not far from the scene of the catastrophe, and, sitting down with the keg in their midst, they commenced theiraffliction. The more they drank, the more clamorous became their grief, and the faster flowed their tears. 

In the midst of these demonstrations, a little figure, bent andstaggering, covered with mud and all in disorder, with a countenancefull of wonder and sympathy, approached them, and began, --

"Why? what? what? Who's dead?"

"Who's dead?" repeated they, looking up in astonishment. "Why, you'redead! you were drowned in Swan Lake! Did not we find your blanket there?Come, sit down and help us mourn. "

The old man did not wait for a second invitation. He took his seat andcried and drank with the rest, weeping and lamenting as bitterly as anyof them, and the strange scene was continued as long as they had powerto articulate, or any portion of the whiskey was left. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

STORY OF THE RED FOX. 

The Indians, of whatever tribe, are exceedingly fond of narrating orlistening to tales and stories, whether historical or fictitious. Theyhave their professed storytellers, like the Oriental nations, and thesego about, from village to village, collecting an admiring and attentiveaudience, however oft-told and familiar the matter they recite. 

It is in this way that their traditions are preserved and handed downunimpaired from generation to generation. Their knowledge of thegeography of their country is wonderfully exact. I have seen an Indiansit in his lodge, and draw a map, in the ashes, of the NorthwesternStates, not of their statistical but their geographical features, lakes, rivers, and mountains, with the greatest accuracy, giving their relativedistances, by days' journeys, without hesitation, and even extending hisdrawings and explanations as far as Kentucky and Tennessee. 

Of biography they preserve not only the leading events in the life ofthe person, but his features, appearance, and bearing, his manners, andwhatever little trait or peculiarity characterized him. 

The women are more fond of fiction, and some of their stories have astrange mingling of humor and pathos. I give the two which follow asspecimens. The Indian names contained in them are in the Ottawa or"Courte-Oreilles" language, but the same tales are current in all thedifferent tongues and dialects. 

 * * * * *

STORY OF THE RED FOX. 

This is an animal to which many peculiarities are attributed. He is saidto resemble the jackal in his habit of molesting the graves of the dead, and the Indians have a superstitious dread of hearing his bark at night, believing that it forebodes calamity and death. They say, too, that hewas originally of one uniform reddish-brown color, but that his legsbecame black in the manner related in the story. 

There was a chief of a certain village who had a beautiful daughter. Heresolved upon one occasion to make a feast and invite all the animals. When the invitation was brought to the red fox, he inquired, "What areyou going to have for supper?"

"_Mee-dau-mee-nau-bo_, " was the reply. (This is a porridge made ofparched corn, slightly cracked. )

The fox turned up his little sharp nose. "No, I thank you, " said he; "Ican get plenty of that at home. "

The messenger returned to the chief, and reported the contemptuousrefusal of the fox. 

"Go back to him, " said the chief, "and tell him we are going to have anice fresh body, [48] and we will have it cooked in the most delicatemanner possible. "

Pleased with the prospect of such a treat, the fox gave a very heartyassent to the second invitation. 

The hour arrived, and he set off for the lodge of the chief to attendthe feast. The company were all prepared for him, for they made commoncause with their friend who had been insulted. As the fox entered, theguest next the door, with great courtesy, rose from his place, andbegged the new-comer to be seated. Immediately the person next him alsorose, and insisted that the fox should occupy his place, as it was stillnearer the fire--the post of honor. Then the third, with manyexpressions of civility, pressed him to exchange with him; and thus, with many ceremonious flourishes, he was passed along the circle, alwaysapproaching the fire, where a huge cauldron stood, in which the goodcheer was still cooking. The fox was by no means unwilling to occupy thehighest place in the assembly, and, besides, he was anxious to take apeep into the kettle, for he had his suspicions that he might bedisappointed of the delicacies he had been expecting. 

So, by degrees, he was ushered nearer and nearer the great blazingfire, until by a dexterous push and shove he was hoisted into theseething kettle. 

His feet were dreadfully scalded, but he leaped out, and ran home to hislodge, howling and crying with pain. His grandmother, with whom, according to the custom of animals, he lived, demanded of him an accountof the affair. When he had faithfully related all the circumstances(for, unlike the civilized animals, he did not think of telling hisgrandmother a story), she reproved him very strongly. 

"You have committed two great faults, " said she. "In the first place, you were very rude to the chief who was so kind as to invite you, and byreturning insult for civility you made yourself enemies who weredetermined to punish you. In the next place, it was very unbecoming inyou to be so forward to take the place of honor. Had you been contentedmodestly to keep your seat near the door, you would have escaped themisfortune that has befallen you. "

All this was not very consolatory to the poor fox, who continued towhine and cry most piteously, while his grandmother, having finished herlecture, proceeded to bind up his wounds. Great virtue is supposed to beadded to all medical prescriptions and applications by a little dancing;so, the dressing having been applied, the grandmother fell to dancingwith all her might, round and round in the lodge. 

When she was nearly exhausted, the fox said, "Grandmother, take off thebandages and see if my legs are healed. "

She did as he requested, but no--the burns were still fresh. She dancedand danced again. Now and then, as he grew impatient, she would removethe coverings to observe the effect of the remedies. At length, towardsmorning, she looked, and, to be sure, the burns were quite healed. "But, oh!" cried she, "your legs are as black as a coal! They were so badlyburned that they will never return to their color!"

The poor fox, who, like many another brave, was vain of his legs, fellinto a transport of lamentation. 

"Oh! my legs! My pretty red legs! What shall I do? The young girls willall despise me. I shall never dare to show myself among them again!"

He cried and sobbed until his grandmother, fatigued with her exercise, fell asleep. By this time he had decided upon his plan of revenge. 

He rose and stole softly out of his lodge, and, pursuing his way rapidlytowards the village of the chief, he turned his face in the direction ofthe principal lodge and barked. When the inhabitants heard this sound inthe stillness of the night, their hearts trembled. They knew that itforeboded sorrow and trouble to some one of their number. 

A very short time elapsed before the beautiful daughter of the chieffell sick, and she grew rapidly worse and worse, spite of medicines, charms, and dances. At length she died. The fox had not intended tobring misfortune on the village in this shape, for he loved thebeautiful daughter of the chief, so he kept in his lodge and mourned andfretted for her death. 

Preparations were made for a magnificent funeral, but the friends of thedeceased were in great perplexity. "If we bury her in the earth, " saidthey, "the fox will come and disturb her remains. He has barked her todeath, and he will be glad to come and finish his work of revenge. "

They took counsel together, and determined to hang her body high in atree as a place of sepulture. They thought the fox would go gropingabout in the earth, and not lift up his eyes to the branches above hishead. 

But the grandmother had been at the funeral, and she returned and toldthe fox all that had been done. 

"Now, my son, " said she, "listen to me. Do not meddle with the remainsof the chief's daughter. You have done mischief enough already. Leaveher in peace. "

As soon as the grandmother was asleep at night, the fox rambled forth. He soon found the place he sought, and came and sat under the tree wherethe young girl had been placed. He gazed and gazed at her all thelivelong night, and she appeared as beautiful as when in life. But whenthe day dawned, and the light enabled him to see more clearly, then heobserved that decay was doing its work--that instead of a beautiful shepresented only a loathsome appearance. 

He went home sad and afflicted, and passed all the day mourning in hislodge. 

"Have you disturbed the remains of the chief's beautiful daughter?" washis parent's anxious question. 

"No, grandmother, "--and he uttered not another word. 

Thus it went on for many days and nights. The fox always took care toquit his watch at the early dawn of day, for he knew that her friendswould suspect him, and come betimes to see if all was right. 

At length he perceived that, gradually, the young girl looked less andless hideous in the morning light, and that she by degrees resumed theappearance she had presented in life, so that in process of time herbeauty and look of health quite returned to her. 

One day he said, "Grandmother, give me my pipe, that I may take asmoke. "

"Ah!" cried she, "you begin to be comforted. You have never smokedsince the death of the chief's beautiful daughter. Have you heard somegood news?"

"Never you mind, " said he; "bring the pipe. "

He sat down and smoked, and smoked. After a time he said, "Grandmother, sweep your lodge and put it all in order, for this day you will receivea visit from your daughter-in-law. "

The grandmother did as she was desired. She swept her lodge, andarranged it with all the taste she possessed, and then both sat down toawait the visit. 

"When you hear a sound at the door, " said the fox, "you must give thesalutation, and say, Come in. "

When they had been thus seated for a time, the grandmother heard afaint, rustling sound. She looked towards the door. To her surprise, themat which usually hung as a curtain was rolled up, and the door wasopen. 

"Peen-tee-geen n'dau-nis!"[49] cried she. 

Something like a faint, faint shadow appeared to glide in. It tookgradually a more distinct outline. As she looked and looked, she beganto discern the form and features of the chief's beautiful daughter, butit was long before she appeared like a reality, and took her place inthe lodge like a thing of flesh and blood. 

They kept the matter hid very close, for they would not for the worldthat the father or friends of the bride should know what had happened. Soon, however, it began to be rumored about that the chief's beautifuldaughter had returned to life, and was living in the Red Fox's lodge. How it ever became known was a mystery, for, of course, the grandmothernever spoke of it. 

Be that as it may, the news created great excitement in the village. "This must never be, " said they all. "He barked her to death once, andwho knows what he may do next time?"

The father took at once a decided part. "The Red Fox is not worthy of mydaughter, " he said. "I had promised her to the Hart, the finest and mostelegant among the animals. Now that she has returned to life, I shallkeep my word. "

So the friends all went in a body to the lodge of the Red Fox. Thebridegroom, the bride, and the grandmother made all the resistancepossible, but they were overpowered by numbers, and, the Hart havingremained conveniently waiting on the outside where there was no danger, the beautiful daughter of the chief was placed upon his back, and hecoursed away through the forest to carry her to his own home. When hearrived at the door of his lodge, however, he turned his head, but nobride was in the place where he expected to see her. He had thought hisburden very light from the beginning, but that he supposed was naturalto spirits returned from the dead. He never imagined she had at theoutset glided from her seat, and in the midst of the tumult slippedback, unobserved, to her chosen husband. 

One or two attempts were made by the friends, after this, to repossessthemselves of the young creature, but all without success. Then theysaid, "Let her remain where she is. It is true the Red Fox occasionedher death, but by his watchfulness and care he caressed her into lifeagain; therefore she rightfully belongs to him. " So the Red Fox and hisbeautiful bride lived long together in great peace and happiness. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

STORY OF SHEE-SHEE-BANZE. 

There was a young man named Shee-shee-banze (the Little Duck) paddlinghis canoe along the shore of the lake. 

Two girls came down to the edge of the water, and, seeing him, the eldersaid to the younger, "Let us call to him to take us a sail. "

It must be remarked that in all Indian stories where two or more sistersare the _dramatis personae_, the elder is invariably represented assilly, ridiculous, and disgusting--the younger, as wise and beautiful. 

In the present case the younger remonstrated. "Oh, no, " said she, "letus not do such a thing. What will he think of us?"

But the other persevered, and called to him, "Ho! come and take us intoyour canoe. " The young man obeyed, and, approaching the shore, he tookthem with him into the canoe. 

"Who are you?" asked the elder sister. 

"I am _Way-gee-mar-kin_, " replied he, "the great chief. "

This Way-gee-mar-kin was something of a fairy, for when surrounded byhis followers, and wishing to confer favors on them, he had a habit ofcoughing slightly, when there would fly forth from his mouth quantitiesof silver brooches, ear-bobs, and other ornaments, for which it was thecustom of his people to scramble, each striving, as in more civilizedlife, to get more than his share. 

Accordingly, the elder sister said, "If you are Way-gee-mar-kin, let ussee you cough. "

Shee-shee-banze had a few of these silver ornaments which he had got byscrambling, and which he kept stowed away in the sides of his mouth incase of emergency. So he gave some spasmodic coughs and brought forth afew, which the girl eagerly seized. 

After a time, as they paddled along, a fine noble elk came forth fromthe forest, and approached the water to drink. 

"What is that?" asked the spokeswoman; for the younger sister sat silentand modest all the time. 

"It is my dog that I hunt with. "

"Call him to us, that I may see him. "

Shee-shee-banze called, but the elk turned and fled into the woods. 

"He does not seem to obey you, however. "

"No; it is because you inspire him with disgust, and therefore he fliesfrom you. "

Soon a bear made his appearance by the water's edge. 

"What is that?"

"One of my servants. "

Again he was requested to call him, and, as the call was disregarded, the same reason as before was assigned. 

Their excursion was at length ended. There had been a little magic init, for although the young girls had supposed themselves to be in acanoe, there was, in reality, no canoe at all. They only imagined it tohave been so. 

Now, Shee-shee-banze lived with his grandmother, and to her lodge heconducted his young friends. 

They stood outside while he went in. 

"Grandmother, " said he, "I have brought you two young girls, who will beyour daughters-in-law. Invite them into your lodge. "

Upon this, the old woman called, "Ho! come in, " and they entered. Theywere made welcome and treated to the best of everything. 

In the mean time, the real Way-gee-mar-kin, the great chief, madepreparations for a grand feast. When he was sending his messenger outwith the invitations, he said to him, "Be very particular to bidShee-shee-banze to the feast, for, as he is the smallest and meanestperson in the tribe, you must use double ceremony with him, or he willbe apt to think himself slighted. "

Shee-shee-banze was sitting in his lodge with his new friends, when themessenger arrived. 

"Ho! Shee-shee-banze, " cried he, "you are invited to a great feast thatWay-gee-mar-kin is to give to-night, to all his subjects. "

But Shee-shee-banze took no notice of the invitation. He only whistled, and pretended not to hear. The messenger repeated his words, then, finding that no attention was paid to them, he went his way. 

The young girls looked at each other, during the scene, greatlyastonished. At length the elder spoke. 

"What does this mean?" said she. "Why does he call you Shee-shee-banze, and invite you to visit Way-gee-mar-kin?"

"Oh, " said Shee-shee-banze, "it is one of my followers that always likesto be a little impudent. I am obliged to put up with it sometimes, butyou observed that I treated him with silent contempt. "

The messenger returned to the chief, and reported the manner in whichthe invitation had been received. 

"Oh, " said the good-natured chief, "it is because he feels that he ispoor and insignificant. Go back again--call him by my name, and make aflourishing speech to him. "

The messenger fulfilled his mission as he was bid. 

"Way-gee-mar-kin, " said he, pompously, "a great feast is to be givento-night, and I am sent most respectfully to solicit the honor of yourcompany!"

"Did I not tell you?" said Shee-shee-banze to the maidens Then, noddingwith careless condescension, he added, "Tell them I'll come. "

At night, Shee-shee-banze dressed himself in his very best paint, feathers, and ornaments--but before his departure he took hisgrandmother aside. 

"Be sure, " said he, "that you watch these young people closely until Icome back. Shut up your lodge tight, _tight_. Let no one come in or goout, and, above all things, do not go to sleep. "

These orders given, he went his way. 

The grandmother tried her best to keep awake, but finding herselfgrowing more and more sleepy, as the night wore on, she took a strongcord and laced across the mat which hung before the entrance to thelodge, as the Indians lace up the mouths of their bags, then, havingseen all things secure and the girls quiet in bed, she lay down and soonfell into a comfortable sleep. 

The young girls, in the mean while, were dying with curiosity to knowwhat had become of Shee-shee-banze, and as soon as they were sure theold lady was asleep, they prepared to follow him and see what was goingon. Fearing, however, that the grandmother might awake and discovertheir absence, they took two logs of wood, and, putting them under theblanket, so disposed them as to present the appearance of personssleeping quietly. They then cut the cords that fastened the door, and, guided by the sounds of the music, the dancing, and the merry-making, they soon found their way to the dwelling of Way-gee-mar-kin. 

When they entered, they saw the chief seated on a throne, surrounded bylight and splendor. Everything was joy and amusement. Crowds ofcourtiers were in the apartment, all dressed in the most brilliantarray. The strangers looked around for their friend Shee-shee-banze, buthe was nowhere to be seen. 

Now and then the chief would cough, when a shower of silver ornamentsand precious things would fly in all directions, and instantly ascramble would commence among the company, to gather them up andappropriate them. 

As they thus rushed forward, the brides-elect saw their poor littlefriend crowded up into a corner, where nobody took any notice of him, except to push him aside, or step on him whenever he was in the way. Heuttered piteous little squeaks as one and another would thus maltreathim, but he was too busy taking care of himself to perceive that thosewhom he had left snug at home in the lodge were witnesses of all thatwas going on. 

At length the signal was given for the company to retire, all but thetwo young damsels, upon whom Way-gee-mar-kin had set his eye, and towhom he had sent, by one of his assistants, great offers to induce themto remain with him and become his wives. 

Poor Shee-shee-banze returned to his lodge, but what was hisconsternation to find the door open!

"Ho! grandmother, " cried he, "is this the way you keep watch?"

The old woman started up. "There are my daughters-in-law, " said she, pointing to the two logs of wood. Shee-shee-banze threw himself on theground between them. His back was broken by coming so violently incontact with them, but that he did not mind--he thought only of revenge, and the recovery of his sweethearts. 

He waited but to get some powerful poison and prepare it, and then hestole softly back to the wigwam of Way-gee-mar-kin. All was silent, andhe crept in without making the slightest noise. There lay the chief, with a young girl on each side of him. 

They were all sound asleep, the chief lying on his back, with his mouthwide open. Before he was aware of it, the poison was down his throat, and Shee-shee-banze had retreated quietly to his own lodge. 

The next morning the cry went through the village that Way-gee-mar-kinhad been found dead in his bed. Of course it was attributed toover-indulgence at the feast. All was grief and lamentation. "Let us goand tell poor Shee-shee-banze, " said one, "he was so fond ofWay-gee-mar-kin. "

They found him sitting on a bank, fishing. He had been up at peep ofday, to make preparation for receiving the intelligence. 

He had caught two or three fish, and, extracting their bladders, hadfilled them with blood, and tied them under his arm. When the friends ofWay-gee-mar-kin saw him, they called out to him, --

"Oh! Shee-shee-banze--your friend, Way-gee-mar-kin, is dead!"

With a gesture of despair, Shee-shee-banze drew his knife and plungedit--not into his heart, but into the bladders filled with blood that hehad prepared. As he fell, apparently lifeless, to the ground, themessengers began to reproach themselves: "Oh! why did we tell him sosuddenly? We might have known he would not survive it. PoorShee-shee-banze! he loved Way-gee-mar-kin so. "

To their great surprise, the day after the funeral, Shee-shee-banze camewalking towards the wigwam of the dead chief. As he walked, he sang, orrather chaunted to a monotonous strain, [50] the following:--

 "Way-gee-mar-kin is dead, is dead, I know who killed him. I guess it was I--I guess it was I. "

All the village was aroused. Everybody flew in pursuit of the murderer, but he evaded them, and escaped to a place of safety. 

Soon after, he again made his appearance, mincing as he walked, andsinging to the same strain as before, --

 "If you wish to take and punish me, Let the widows come and catch me. "

It seemed a good idea, and the young women were recommended to go andentice the culprit into the village, so that the friends of the deceasedcould lay hold of him. 

They went forth on their errand. Shee-shee-banze would suffer them toapproach, then he would dance off a little--now he would allow them tocome quite near; anon he would retreat a little before them, all thetime singing, "Come, pretty widows, come and catch me. "

Thus he decoyed them on, occasionally using honeyed words and flatteringspeeches, until he had gained their consent to return with him to hislodge, and take up their abode with him. 

The friends of the murdered chief were scandalized at such inconstancy, and resolved to punish all three, as soon as they could catch them. 

They surrounded his lodge with cries and threatenings, butShee-shee-banze and his two brides had contrived to elude theirvigilance and gain his canoe, which lay in the river, close at hand. 

Hardly were they on board when their escape was discovered. The wholetroop flew after them. Some plunged into the stream, and seized thecanoe. In the struggle it was upset, but immediately on touching thewater, whether from the magical properties of the canoe, or thenecromantic skill of the grandmother, they were transformed into ducks, and flew quacking away. 

Since that time the water-fowl of this species are always found incompanies of three--two females and a male. 

 * * * * *

The _Canard de France_, or Mallard, and the _Brancheuse_, or Wood Duck, are of different habits from the foregoing, flying in pairs. Indeed, theconstancy of the latter is said to be so great that if he loses his matehe never takes another partner, but goes mourning to the end of hisdays. 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

A VISIT TO GREEN BAY--MA-ZHEE-GAW-GAW SWAMP. 

The payment over, and the Indians dispersed, we prepared ourselves tosettle down quietly in our little home. But now a new source ofdisturbance arose. 

My husband's accounts of disbursements as Agent of the Winnebagoes, which he had forwarded to the Department at Washington, had failed toreach there, of which he received due notice--that is to say, such anotice as could reach us by the circuitous and uncertain mode ofconveyance by which intercourse with the Eastern world was then kept up. If the vouchers for the former expenditures, together with the recentpayment of $15, 000 annuity money, should not be forthcoming, it mightplace him in a very awkward position; he therefore decided to go at onceto Washington, and be the bearer himself of his duplicate accounts. 

"Should you like to go and see your father and mother, " said he to me, one morning, "and show them how the West agrees with you?"

It was a most joyful suggestion after a year's separation, and in a fewdays all things were in readiness for our departure. 

There was visiting us, at that time, Miss Brush, of Detroit, who hadcome from Green Bay with Mr. And Mrs. Whitney and Miss Frances Henshaw, on an excursion to the Mississippi. Our little India-rubber house hadcontrived to expand itself for the accommodation of the whole partyduring the very pleasant visit they made us. 

The arrival of two young ladies had been, as may be imagined, quite agodsend to the unmarried lieutenants, and when, tired of the journey, orintimidated by the snow, which fell eight inches on the 4th of October, Miss Brush determined to give up the remainder of her excursion, andaccept our pressing invitation to remain with us until the return of herfriends, we were looked upon as public benefactors. She was now toaccompany us to Green Bay, and possibly to Detroit. 

Our voyage down the river was without incident, and we reached Green Bayjust as all the place was astir in the expectation of the arrival of oneof Mr. Newbery's schooners. This important event was the subject ofinterest to the whole community, from Fort Howard to "Dickenson's. " Tosome its arrival would bring friends, to some supplies--to the ladies, the fashions, to the gentlemen, the news, for it was the happy bearer ofthe mails, not for that place alone, but for all the "upper country. "

In a few days the vessel arrived. She brought a mail for Fort Winnebago, it being only in the winter season that letters were carried by land tothat place, via _Niles's Settlement_ and Chicago. 

In virtue of his office as Postmaster, my husband opened the mail-bag, and took possession of his own letters. One informed him of thesatisfactory appearance at the Department of the missing accounts, butoh! sad disappointment, another brought the news that my parents hadgone to Kentucky for the winter--not to any city or accessible place, but "up the Sandy, " and over among the mountains of Virginia, hunting upold land-claims belonging to my grandfather's estate. 

It was vain to hope to follow them. We might hardly expect to find themduring the short period we could be absent from home--not even were weto receive the lucid directions once given my father by an old settlerduring his explorations through that wild region. 

"You must go up _Tug_, " said the man, "and down _Troublesome_, and fallover on to _Kingdom-come_. "[51]

We did not think it advisable to undertake such an expedition, andtherefore made up our minds to retrace our steps to Fort Winnebago. 

No boats were in readiness to ascend the river. Our old friend Hamiltonpromised to have one in preparation at once, but time passed by, and noboat was made ready. 

It was now the beginning of November. We were passing our time verypleasantly with the Irwins and Whitneys, and at the residence ofColonel Stambaugh, the Indian Agent, but still this delay wasinconvenient and vexatious. 

I suggested undertaking the journey on horseback. "No, indeed, " was theanswer I invariably received. "No mortal woman has ever gone that road, unless it was some native on foot, nor ever could. "

"But suppose we set out in the boat and get frozen in on the way. We canneither pass the winter there, nor possibly find our way to a humanhabitation. We have had one similar experience already. Is it not betterto take it for granted that I can do what you and others of your sexhave done?"

Dr. Finley, the post-surgeon at Fort Howard, on hearing the matterdebated, offered me immediately his favorite horse Charlie. "He is verysure-footed, " the doctor alleged, "and capital in a marsh or troublesomestream. "

By land, then, it was decided to go; and as soon as our old Menomoneefriend "Wish-tay-yun, " who was as good a guide by land as by water, could be summoned, we set off, leaving our trunks to be forwarded byHamilton whenever it should please him to carry out his intention ofsending up his boat. 

We waited until a late hour on the morning of our departure for ourfellow-travellers, Mr. Wing, of Monroe, and Dr. Philleo, of Galena; but, finding they did not join us, we resolved to lose no time, confidentthat we should all meet at the Kakalin in the course of the evening. 

After crossing the river at what is now Depere, and entering the wild, unsettled country on the west of the river, we found a succession ofwooded hills, separated by ravines so narrow and steep that it seemedimpossible that any animals but mules or goats could make their wayamong them. 

Wish-tay-yun took the lead. The horse he rode was accustomed to thecountry, and well trained to this style of road. As for Charlie, he wasperfectly admirable. When he came to a precipitous descent, he would setforward his forefeet, and slide down on his haunches in the mostscientific manner, while my only mode of preserving my balance was tohold fast by the bridle and lay myself braced almost flat against hisback. Then our position would suddenly change, and we would be scalingthe opposite bank, at the imminent risk of falling backward into theravine below. 

It was amusing to see Wish-tay-yun, as he scrambled on ahead, now andthen turning partly round to see how I fared. And when, panting andlaughing, I at length reached the summit, he would throw up his hands, and shout, with the utmost glee, "Mamma Manitou!" (My mother is aspirit. )

Our old acquaintances, the Grignons, seemed much surprised that I shouldhave ventured on such a journey. They had never undertaken it, althoughthey had lived so long at the Kakalin; but then there was no reason whythey should have done so. They could always command a canoe or a boatwhen they wished to visit "the Bay. "

As we had anticipated, our gentlemen joined us at supper. "They haddelayed to take dinner with Colonel Stambaugh--had had a delightfulgallop up from: the Bay--had seen no ravines, nor anything but finesmooth roads--might have been asleep, but, if so, were not conscious ofit. " This was the account they gave of themselves, to our no smallamusement. 

From the Kakalin to the Butte des Morts, where lived a man named Knaggs, was our next day's stage. The country was rough and wild, much like thatwe had passed through the spring before, in going from Hamilton'sdiggings to Kellogg's Grove, but we were fortunate in havingWish-tay-yun, rather than "Uncle Billy, " for our guide, so that we couldmake our way with some degree of moderation. 

We had travelled but forty miles when we reached Knaggs's, yet I wasboth cold and fatigued, so that the cosy little room in which we foundMrs. Knaggs, and the bright fire, were most cheering objects; and, as wehad only broken our fast since morning with a few crackers we carried inour pockets, I must own we did ample justice to her nice coffee andcakes, not to mention venison-steaks and bear's meat, the latter ofwhich I had never before tasted. 

Our supper over, we looked about for a place of repose. The room inwhich we had taken our meal was of small dimensions, just sufficient toaccommodate a bed, a table placed against the wall, and the few chairson which we sat. There was no room for any kind of a "shakedown. "

"Where can you put us for the night?" inquired my husband of Mr. Knaggs, when he made his appearance. 

"Why, there is no place that I know of, unless you can camp down in theold building outside. "

We went to look at it. It consisted of one room, bare and dirty. A hugechimney, in which a few brands were burning, occupied nearly one side ofthe apartment. Against another was built a rickety sort of bunk. Thiswas the only vestige of furniture to be seen. The floor was thicklycovered with mud and dirt, in the midst of which, near the fire, wasseated an old Indian with a pan of boiled corn on his lap, which he wasscooping up with both hands and devouring with the utmost voracity. 

We soon discovered that he was blind. On hearing footsteps and voices, he instinctively gathered his dish of food close to him, and began somemorose grumblings; but when he was told that it was "Shaw-nee-aw-kee"who was addressing him, his features relaxed into a more agreeableexpression, and be even held forth his dish and invited us to share itscontents. 

"But are we to stay here?" I asked. "Can we not sleep out-of-doors?"

"We have no tent, " replied my husband, "and the weather is too cold torisk the exposure without one. "

"I could sit in a chair all night, by the fire. "

"Then you would not be able to ride to Bellefontaine to-morrow. "

There was no alternative. The only thing Mr. Knaggs could furnish in theshape of bedding was a small bear-skin. The bunk was a trifle lessfilthy than the floor; so upon its boards we spread first the skin, thenour saddle-blankets, and, with a pair of saddle-bags for a bolster, Iwrapped myself in my cloak, and resigned myself to my distastefulaccommodations. 

The change of position from that I had occupied through the day, probably brought some rest, but sleep I could not. Even on a softer andmore agreeable couch, the snoring of the old Indian and two or threecompanions who had joined him, and his frequent querulous exclamationsas he felt himself encroached upon in the darkness, would haveeffectually banished slumber from my eyes. 

It was a relief to rise with early morning and prepare for the journeyof the day. Where our fellow-travellers had bestowed themselves I knewnot, but they evidently had fared no better than we. They were in finespirits, however, and we cheerfully took our breakfast and were ferriedover the river to continue on the trail from that point toBellefontaine, twelve miles distant from Fort Winnebago. 

The great "bug-bear" of this road, Ma-zhee-gaw-gaw Swamp, was the nextthing to be encountered. We reached it about nine o'clock. It spreadbefore us, a vast expanse of morass, about half a mile in width, and oflength interminable, partly covered with water, with black knobs risinghere and there above the surface, affording a precarious foothold forthe animals in crossing it. Where the water was not, there lay in placeof it a bed of black oozy mud, which looked as if it might give wayunder the foot, and let it, at each step, sink to an unknown depth. 

This we were now to traverse. All three of the gentlemen went in advanceof me, each hoping, as he said, to select the surest and firmest pathfor me to follow. One and another would call, "Here, madam, come thisway!" "This is the best path, wifie; follow me, " but often Charlie knewbetter than either, and selected a path according to his own judgment, which proved the best of the whole. 

On he went, picking his way so slowly and cautiously, now pausing on onelittle hillock, now on another, and anon turning aside to avoid a patchof mud which seemed more than usually suspicious, that all the companyhad got some little distance ahead of me. On raising my eyes, which hadbeen kept pretty closely on my horse's footsteps, I saw my husband onfoot, striving to lead his horse by the bridle from a difficult positioninto which he had got, Mr. Wing and his great white floundering animallying sideways in the mud, the rider using all his efforts to extricatehimself from the stirrups, and Dr. Philleo standing at a little distancefrom his steed, who was doing his best to rise up from a deep bog intowhich he had pitched himself. It was a formidable sight! They all calledout with one accord, --

"Oh, do not come this way!"

"Indeed, " cried I, "I have no thought of it. Charlie and I know better. "And, trusting to the sagacious creature, he picked his way carefullyalong, and carried me safely past the dismounted company. I could notrefrain from a little triumphant flourish with my whip, as I looked backupon them and watched their progress to their saddles once more. 

Three hours had we been thus unpleasantly engaged, and yet we were notover the "Slough of Despond. " At length we drew near its farthest verge. Here ran a deep stream some five or six feet in width. The gentlemen, asthey reached it, dismounted, and began debating what was to be done. 

"Jump off, jump off, madam, " cried Mr. Wing, and "Jump off, jump off, "echoed Dr. Philleo; "we are just consulting how we are to get youacross. "

"What do you think about it?" asked my husband. 

"Charlie will show you, " replied I. "Come, Charlie. " And as I raised hisbridle quickly, with a pat on his neck and an encouraging chirp, hebounded over the stream as lightly as a deer, and landed me safe on_terra firma_. 

Poor Mr. Wing had fared the worst of the company; the clumsy animal herode seeming to be of opinion when he got into a difficulty that he hadnothing to do but to lie down and resign himself to his fate; while hisrider, not being particularly light and agile, was generally undermost, and half imbedded in the mire before he had quite made up his mind as tohis course of action. 

It was therefore a wise movement in him, when he reached the littlestream, to plunge into it and wade across, thus washing out, as much aspossible, the traces of the morning's adventures from himself and hissteed; and the other gentlemen, having no alternative, concluded tofollow his example. 

We did not halt long on the rising ground beyond the morass, for we hada long stretch before us to Bellefontaine, forty-five miles, and thosenone of the shortest. 

Our horses travelled admirably the whole afternoon, Charlie keeping acanter all the way; but it was growing dark, and there were no signs ofthe landmarks which were to indicate our near approach to the desiredhaven. 

"Can we not stop and rest for a few moments under one of the trees?"inquired I, for I was almost exhausted with fatigue, and, to add to ourdiscomfort, a cold, November rain was pouring upon us. 

"If it were possible, we would, " was the reply; "but see how dark it isgrowing. If we should lose our way, it would be worse than being wet andtired. "

So we kept on. Just at dark we crossed a clear stream. "That, " said myhusband, "is, I think, two miles from Bellefontaine. Cheer up--we shallsoon be there. " Quite encouraged, we pursued our way more cheerfully. Mile after mile we passed, but still no light gleamed friendly throughthe trees. 

"We have certainly travelled more than six miles now, " said I. 

"Yes--that could not have been the two-mile creek. "

It was eight o'clock when we reached Bellefontaine. We were ushered intoa large room made cheerful by a huge blazing fire. Mr. Wing and Dr. Philleo had arrived before us, and there were other travellers, on theirway from the Mississippi. I was received with great kindness andvolubility by the immense hostess, "la grosse Américaine, " as she wascalled, and she soon installed me in the arm-chair, in the warmestcorner, and in due time set an excellent supper before us. 

But her hospitality did not extend to giving up her only bed for myaccommodation. She spread all the things she could muster on the hardfloor before the fire, and did what she could to make me comfortable;then, observing my husband's solicitude lest I might feel ill from theeffects of the fatigue and rain, she remarked, in tones of admiringsympathy, "How kind your _companion_ is to you!"--an expression which, as it was then new to us, amused us not a little. 

Our travelling companions started early in the morning for the Fort, which was but twelve miles distant, and they were so kind as to takecharge of a note to our friends at home, requesting them to send Plantewith the carriage to take us the rest of the distance. 

We reached the Portage in safety; and thus ended the first journey byland that any white woman had made from Green Bay to Fort Winnebago. Ifelt not a little raised in my own esteem when my husband informed methat the distance I had the previous day travelled, from Knaggs's toBellefontaine, was sixty-two miles!

CHAPTER XXXII. 

COMMENCEMENT OF THE SAUK WAR. 

A few weeks after our return, my husband took his mother to Prairie duChien for the benefit of medical advice from Dr. Beaumont, of the U. S. Army. The journey was made in a large open boat down the WisconsinRiver, and it was proposed to take this opportunity to bring back a goodsupply of corn for the winter's use of both men and cattle. 

The ice formed in the river, however, so early, that after startingwith his load he was obliged to return with it to the Prairie, and waituntil the thick winter's ice enabled him to make a second journey andbring it up in sleighs--with so great an expense of time, labor, andexposure were the necessaries of life conveyed from one point to anotherthrough that wild and desolate region!

 * * * * *

The arrival of my brother Arthur from Kentucky, by way of theMississippi, in the latter part of April, brought us the uncomfortableintelligence of new troubles with the Sauks and Foxes. Black Hawk had, with the flower of his nation, recrossed the Mississippi, once more totake possession of their old homes and corn-fields. [52]

It was not long before our own Indians came flocking in, to confirm thetidings, and to assure us of their intention to remain faithful friendsto the Americans. We soon heard of the arrival of the Illinois Rangersin the Rock River country, also of the progress of the regular forceunder General Atkinson, in pursuit of the hostile Indians, who, by thereports, were always able to elude their vigilance. It not being theircustom to stop and give battle, the Sauks soon scattered themselvesthrough the country, trusting to some lucky accident (and such arrived, alas! only too often) to enable them to fall upon their enemiesunexpectedly. 

The experience of the pursuing army was, for the most part, to maketheir way, by toilsome and fatiguing marches, to the spot where theyimagined the Sauks would be waiting to receive them, and then todiscover that the rogues had scampered off to quite a different part ofthe country. 

Wherever these latter went, their course was marked by the mostatrocious barbarities, though the worst had not, at this time, reachedour ears. We were only assured that they were down in the neighborhoodof the Rock River and Kishwaukee, and that they lost no opportunity offalling upon the defenceless inhabitants and cruelly murdering them. 

As soon as it became certain that the Sauks and Foxes would not pursuethe same course they had on the previous year, that is, retreatpeaceably across the Mississippi, Mr. Kinzie resolved to hold a councilwith all the principal chiefs of the Winnebagoes who were accessible atthis time. He knew that the Sauks would use every effort to induce theirneighbors to join them, and that there existed in the breasts of toomany of the young savages a desire to distinguish themselves by "takingsome white scalps. " They did not love the Americans--why should they? Bythem they had been gradually dispossessed of the broad and beautifuldomains of their forefathers, and hunted from place to place, and theonly equivalent they had received in exchange had been a few thousandsannually in silver and presents, together with the pernicious example, the debasing influence, and the positive ill treatment of too many ofthe new settlers upon their lands. 

With all these facts in view, therefore, their Father felt that theutmost watchfulness was necessary, and that the strongest arguments mustbe brought forward, to preserve the young men of the Winnebagoes intheir allegiance to the Americans. Of the older members he felt quitesure. About fifty lodges had come at the commencement of thedisturbances and encamped around our dwelling, saying that if the Sauksattacked us it must be after killing them; and, knowing them well, wehad perfect confidence in their assurances. 

But their vicinity, while it gave us a feeling of protection, likewisefurnished us with a channel of the most exciting and agitating dailycommunications. As the theatre of operations approached nearer andnearer, intelligence was brought in by their runners--now, that "CaptainBarney's head had been recognized in the Sauk camp, where it had beenbrought the day previous, " next, that "the Sauks were carryingLieutenant Beall's head on a pole in front of them as they marched tomeet the whites. " Sometimes it was a story which we afterwards found tobe unhappily true, as that of the murder of their Agent, M. St Vrain, atKellogg's Grove, by the Sauks themselves, who ought to have protectedhim. 

It was after the news of this last occurrence that the appointed councilwith the Winnebagoes was to be held at the Four Lakes, thirty-five milesdistant from Fort Winnebago. 

In vain we pleaded and remonstrated against such an exposure. "It washis duty to assemble his people and talk to them, " my husband said, "andhe must run the risk, if there were any. He had perfect confidence inthe Winnebagoes. The enemy, by all he could learn, were now far distantfrom the Four Lakes--probably at Kosh-ko-nong. He would set off early inthe morning with Paquette, bold his council, and return to us the sameevening. "

It were useless to attempt to describe our feelings during that long anddreary day. When night arrived, the cry of a drunken Indian, or even thebarking of a dog, would fill our hearts with terror. 

As we sat, at a late hour, at the open window, listening to every sound, with what joy did we at length distinguish the tramp of horses! We knewit to be Griffin and Jerry ascending the hill, and a cheerful shout soonannounced that all was well. My husband and his interpreter had riddenseventy miles that day, besides holding a long "talk" with the Indians. 

The Winnebagoes in council had promised to use their utmost endeavors topreserve peace and good order among their young men. They informed theirFather that the bands on the Rock River, with the exception ofWin-no-sheek's, were all determined to remain friendly and keep alooffrom the Sauks. To that end, they were abandoning their villages andcorn-fields and moving north, that their Great Father, the President, might not feel dissatisfied with them. With regard to Win-no-sheek andhis people, they professed themselves unable to answer. 

Time went on, and brought with it stories of fresh outrages. Among thesewere the murders of Auberry, Green, and Force, at Blue Mound, and theattack on Apple Fort. The tidings of the latter were brought by oldCrély, [53] the father of Mrs. Paquette, who rode express from Galena, and who averred that he once passed a bush behind which the Sauks werehiding, but that his horse smelt the sweet-scented grass with which theyalways adorn their persons when on a war-party, and set out on such agallop that he never stopped until he arrived at the Portage. 

Another bearer of news was a young gentleman named Follett, whose eyeshad become so protruded and set from keeping an anxious look-out for theenemy, that it was many days after his arrival at a place of safetybefore they resumed their accustomed limits and expression. 

Among other rumors which at this time reached us, was one that an attackupon Fort Winnebago was in contemplation among the Sauks. That this wasin no state of defence the Indians very well knew. All the effectivemen had been withdrawn, upon a requisition from General Atkinson, tojoin him at his newly-built fort at Kosh-ko-nong. 

Fort Winnebago was not picketed in; there were no defences to thebarracks or officers' quarters, except slight panelled doors andVenetian blinds--nothing that would long resist the blows of clubs orhatchets. There was no artillery, and the Commissary's store was withoutthe bounds of the Fort, under the hill. 

Mr. Kinzie had, from the first, called the attention of the officers tothe insecurity of their position in case of danger, but he generallyreceived a scoffing answer. 

"Never fear, " they would say; "the Sauks are not coming here to attackus. "

One afternoon we were over on a visit to some ladies in the garrison, and, several officers being present, the conversation, as usual, turnedupon the present position of affairs. 

"Do you not think it wiser, " inquired I of a blustering young officer, "to be prepared against possible danger?"

"Not against these fellows, " replied he, contemptuously. 

"I do not think I would even take the trouble to fasten the blinds to myquarters. "

"At least, " said I, "if you some night find a tomahawk raised to cleaveyour skull, you will have the consolation of remembering that you havenot been one of those foolish fellows who keep on the safe side. "

He seemed a little nettled at this, and still more so when sisterMargaret observed, --

"For my part, I am of Governor Cass's opinion. He was at Chicago duringthe Winnebago war. We were all preparing to move into the fort on thefirst alarm. Some were for being brave and delaying, like our friendshere. 'Come, come, ' said the Governor, 'hurry into the fort as fast aspossible--there is no merit in being brave with the Indians. It is theheight of folly to stay and meet danger which you may by prudenceavoid. '"

In a few days our friends waked up to the conviction that something mustbe done at once The first step was to forbid any Winnebago coming withinthe garrison, lest they should find out what they had known as well asourselves for three months past--namely, the feebleness of the means ofresistance. The next was to send fatigue-parties into the woods, underthe protection of a guard, to cut pickets for inclosing the garrison. 

There was every reason to believe that the enemy were not very fardistant, and that their object in coming north was to break a way intothe Chippewa country, where they would find a place of security amongtheir friends and allies. The story that our Indian runners brought inmost frequently was, that the Sauks were determined to fall upon thewhites at the Portage and Fort, and massacre all, except the families ofthe Agent and Interpreter. 

Plante and Pillon with their families had departed at the first word ofdanger. There only remained with us Manaigre, whose wife was ahalf-Winnebago, Isidore Morrin, and the blacksmiths from SugarCreek--Mâtâ and Turcotte. 

At night we were all regularly armed and our posts assigned us. Afterevery means had been taken to make the house secure, the orders weregiven. Sister Margaret and I, in case of attack, were to mount with thechildren to the rooms above, while my husband and his men were to makegood their defence as long as possible against the enemy. Since I hadshown my sportsmanship by bringing down accidentally a blackbird on thewing, I felt as if I could do some execution with my little pistols, which were regularly placed beside my pillow at night; and I was fullyresolved to use them, if necessity required. I do not remember to havefelt the slightest compunction at the idea of taking the lives of twoSauks, as I had no doubt I should do; and this explains to me what I hadbefore often wondered at, the indifference, namely, of the soldier onthe field of battle to the destruction of human life Had I been calledupon, however, to use my weapons effectually, I should no doubt havelooked back upon it with horror. 

Surrounded as we were by Indian lodges, which seldom became perfectlyquiet, and excited as our nerves had become by all that we were daily inthe habit of hearing, we rarely slept very soundly. One night, after wehad as much as possible composed ourselves, we were startled at a latehour by a tap upon the window at the head of our bed, and a call of"Chon! Chon!"[54] (John! John!)

"Tshah-ko-zhah?" (What is it?)

It was Hoo-wau-ne-kah, the Little Elk. He spoke rapidly, and in a toneof great agitation. I could not understand him, and I lay trembling, anddreading to hear his errand interpreted. Now and then I coulddistinguish the words Sau-kee (Sauks) and Shoonk-hat-tay-rah (horse), and they were not very reassuring. 

The trouble, I soon learned, was this. A fresh trail had been observednear the Petit Rocher, on the Wisconsin, and the people at the villageson the Barribault were in a state of great alarm, fearing it might bethe Sauks. There was the appearance of a hundred or more horses havingpassed by this trail. Hoo-wau-ne-kah had been dispatched at once totell their Father, and to ask his advice. 

After listening to all he had to communicate, his Father told him thetrail was undoubtedly that of General Henry's troops, who were said tohave come north, looking for the enemy; that as the marks of the horses'hoofs showed them, by this report, to have been shod, that wassufficient proof that it was not the trail of the Sauks. He thought thatthe people at the villages need not feel any uneasiness. 

"Very well, Father, " replied Hoo-wau-ne-kah; "I will go back and tell mypeople what you say. They will believe you, for you always tell them thetruth. You are not like us Indians, who sometimes deceive each other. "So saying, he returned to his friends, much comforted. 

The completion of the picketing and other defences, together with thearrival of a detachment of troops from Fort Howard under LieutenantHunter, at our fort, now seemed to render the latter the place ofgreatest safety. We therefore regularly, every evening immediatelybefore dusk, took up our line of march for the opposite side of theriver, and repaired to quarters that had been assigned us within thegarrison, leaving our own house and chattels to the care of theFrenchmen and our friends the Winnebagoes. 

It was on one of these days that we were sitting at the windows whichlooked out over the Portage--indeed, we seldom sat anywhere else, ouralmost sole occupation being to look abroad and see what was comingnext--when a loud, long, shrill whoop from a distance gave notice ofsomething to be heard. "The news-halloo! what could it portend? Whatwere we about to hear?" By gazing intently towards the farthestextremity of the road, we could perceive a moving body of horsemen, which, as they approached, we saw to be Indians. They were in fullcostume. Scarlet streamers fluttered at the ends of their lances--theirarms glittered in the sun. Presently, as they drew nearer, their paintand feathers and brooches became visible. There were fifty or morewarriors. They passed the road which turns to the Fort, and rodedirectly up the hill leading to the Agency. Shaw-nee-aw-kee was absent. The Interpreter had been sent for on the first distant appearance of thestrangers, but had not yet arrived. The party, having ascended the hill, halted near the blacksmith's shop, but did not dismount. 

Our hearts trembled--it must surely be the enemy. At this moment myhusband appeared from the direction of the Interpreter's house. Wecalled to entreat him to stop, but he walked along towards thenew-comers. 

To our infinite joy, we saw the chief of the party dismount, and all theothers following his example and approaching to shake hands. 

A space was soon cleared around the leader and my husband, when theformer commenced an oration, flourishing his sword and using muchviolent gesticulation. It was the first time I had seen an Indian armedwith that weapon, and I dreaded to perceive it in such hands. Sometimeshe appeared as if he were about to take off the head of his auditor at ablow; and our hearts sank as we remembered the stratagems at Mackinacand Detroit in former days. At length the speech was concluded, anothershaking of hands took place, and we saw my husband leading the way tohis storehouse, from which some of his men presently brought tobacco andpipes and laid them at the feet of the chief. 

Our suspense was soon relieved by being informed that the strangers wereMan-Eater, the principal chief of the Rock River Indians, who had comewith his band to "hold a talk" and bring information. 

These Indians were under the special care of Mr. Henry Gratiot, and hisefforts had been most judicious and unremitting in preserving the goodfeeling of this the most dangerous portion of the Winnebagoes. 

The intelligence that Man-Eater, who was a most noble Indian inappearance and character, brought us, confirmed that already received, namely, that the Sauks were gradually drawing north, towards thePortage, although he evidently did not know exactly their whereabouts. 

There was, soon after they had taken leave, an arrival of another partyof Winnebagoes, and these requested permission to dance for theirFather. 

The compliment having been accepted, they assembled, as usual, on theesplanade in front of the house. My sister, the children, and myselfstationed ourselves at the open windows, according to custom, and myhusband sat on the broad step before the door, which opened from theouter air directly into the parlor where we were. 

The performance commenced, and as the dancers proceeded, following eachother round and round in the progress of the dance, my sister, Mrs. Helm, remarked to me, "Look at that small, dark Indian, with the greenboughs on his person--that is _a Sauk!_ They always mark themselves inthis manner with white clay, and ornament themselves with leaves whenthey dance!" In truth, I had never seen this costume among our ownIndians, and as I gazed at this one with green chaplets round his headand his legs, and even his gun wreathed in the same manner, while hisbody displayed no paint except the white transverse streaks with whichit was covered, I saw that he was, indeed, a stranger. Without owinganything to the exaggeration of fear, his countenance was trulyferocious. 

He held his gun in his hand, and every time the course of the dancebrought him directly in front of where we sat, he would turn his gazefull upon us, and club his weapon before him with what we interpretedinto an air of defiance. We sat as still as death, for we knew it wouldnot be wise to exhibit any appearance of fear; but my sister remarked, in a low tone, "I have always thought that I was to lose my life by thehands of the Indians. This is the third Indian war I have gone through, and now, I suppose, it will be the last. "

It was the only time I ever saw her lose her self-possession. She wasalways remarkably calm and resolute, but now I could see that shetrembled. Still we sat there--there was a sort of fascination as ourimaginations became more and more excited. Presently some rain-dropsbegan to fall. The Indians continued their dance for a few minuteslonger, then, with whoopings and shoutings, they rushed simultaneouslytowards the house. We fled into my apartment and closed the door, whichmy sister at first held fast, but she presently came and seated herselfby me on the bed, for she saw that I could not compose myself. Of allforms of death, that by the hands of savages is the most difficult toface calmly; and I fully believed that our hour was come. 

There was no interruption to the dance, which the Indians carried on inthe parlor, leaping and yelling as if they would bring down the roofover our heads. In vain we tried to persuade my husband and thechildren, through a crevice of the door, to come and join us. Thelatter, feeling no danger, were too much delighted with the exhibitionto leave it, and the former only came for a moment to reassure me, andthen judged it wisest to return, and manifest his satisfaction at thecompliment by his presence. He made light of our fears, and would notadmit that the object of our suspicions was in fact a Sauk, but onlysome young Winnebago, who had, as is sometimes the custom, imitated themin costume and appearance. 

It may have been "good fun" to him to return to his village and tell howhe frightened "the white squaws. " Such a trick would not be unnatural ina white youth, and perhaps, since human nature is everywhere the same, it might not be out of the way in an Indian. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

FLEEING FROM THE INDIANS. 

The danger had now become so imminent that my husband determined to sendhis family to Fort Howard, a point which was believed to be far out ofthe range of the enemy. It was in vain that I pleaded to be permitted toremain; he was firm. 

"I must not leave my post, " said he, "while there is any danger. Mydeparture would perhaps be the signal for an immediate alliance of theWinnebagoes with the Sauks. I am certain that as long as I am here mypresence will act as a restraint upon them. You wish to remain and sharemy dangers! Your doing so would expose us both to certain destruction incase of attack By the aid of my friends in both tribes, I could hope topreserve my own life if I were alone; but surrounded by my family, thatwould be impossible--we should all fall victims together. My dutyplainly is, to send you to a place of safety. "

An opportunity for doing this soon occurred. Paquette, the Interpreter, who was likewise an agent of the American Fur Company, had occasion tosend a boat-load of furs to Green Bay, on their way to Mackinac. Mr. Kinzie, having seen it as comfortably fitted up as an open boat of thatdescription could be, with a tent-cloth fastened on a frame-work ofhoop-poles over the centre and lined with a dark-green blanket, andhaving placed on board an abundant store of provisions and othercomforts, committed us to the joint care of my brother Arthur and ourfaithful blacksmith, Mâtâ. 

This latter was a tall, gaunt Frenchman, with a freckled face, aprofusion of crisp, sandy hair, and an inveterate propensity to speakEnglish. His knowledge of the language was somewhat limited, and heburlesqued it by adding an s to almost every word, and giving out eachphrase with a jerk. 

"Davids, " he was wont to say to the little yellow fiddler, after anevening's frolic at the Interpreter's, "Davids, clear away the tablesand the glasses, and play _fishes-hornspikes. "_[55] He was a kind, affectionate creature, and his devotion to "Monsieur Johns" and "MadameJohns" knew no bounds. 

Besides these two protectors, three trusty Indians, the chief of whomwas called _Old Smoker_, were engaged to escort our party. The crew ofthe boat consisted entirely of French engagés in the service of the FurCompany. They were six gay-hearted, merry fellows, lightening theirlabor with their pipe and their songs, in which latter they would haveesteemed it a great compliment to be joined by the ladies who listenedto them; but our hearts, alas! were now too heavy to participate intheir enjoyment. 

The Fourth of July, the day on which we left our home, was a gloomy oneindeed to those who departed and to the one left behind. Who knew if weshould ever meet again? The experience which some of the circle had hadin Indian warfare was such as to justify the saddest forebodings. Therewas not even the consolation of a certainty that this step would secureour safety. The Sauks might, possibly, be on the other side of us, andthe route we were taking might perhaps, though not probably, carry usinto their very midst. It was no wonder, then, that our leave-taking wasa solemn one--a parting which all felt might be for this world. 

Not _all_, however; for the gay, cheerful Frenchmen laughed and sang andcracked their jokes, and "assured Monsieur John that they would takeMadame John and Madame Alum safe to the bay, spite of Sauks or wind orweather. "

Thus we set out on our journey. For many miles the Fort was in sight, asthe course of the river alternately approached and receded from itswalls, and it was not until nearly mid-day that we caught the lastglimpse of our home. 

At the noon-tide meal, or pipe, of the voyageurs, an alarming discoverywas made: no bread had been put on board for the crew! How thisoversight had occurred, no one could tell. One was certain that a largequantity had been brought from the garrison-bakery for their use thatvery morning--another had even seen the sacks of loaves standing inPaquette's kitchen. Be that as it may, there we were, many miles on ourjourney, and with no provisions for the six Frenchmen, except somesalted pork, a few beans, and some onions. A consultation was held inthis emergency. Should they return to the Portage for supplies? Thesame danger that made their departure necessary, still existed, and theutmost dispatch had been enjoined upon them. We found upon examinationthat the store of bread and crackers with which our party had beenprovided was far-beyond what we could possibly require, and we thoughtit would be sufficient to allow of rations to the Frenchmen until weshould reach Powell's, at the Butte des Morts, the day but onefollowing, where we should undoubtedly be able to procure a freshsupply. 

This decided on, we proceeded on our journey, always in profoundsilence, for a song or a loud laugh was now strictly prohibited until weshould have passed the utmost limits of country where the enemy mightpossibly be. We had been warned beforehand that a certain point, wherethe low marshy meadows, through which the river had hitherto run, risesinto a more firm and elevated country, was the border of the Menomoneeterritory, and the spot where the Sauks, if they had fled north of theWisconsin towards the Chippewa country, would be most likely to beencountered. 

As we received intimation on the forenoon of the second day that we weredrawing near this spot, I must confess that "we held our breath forawe. "

The three Winnebagoes were in the bow of the boat. Old Smoker, thechief, squatted upon his feet on the bench of the foremost rowers. Welooked at him. He was gazing intently in the direction of the woodedpoint we were approaching. Our eyes followed his, and we saw threeIndians step forward and stand upon the bank. We said in a low voice toeach other, "If they are Sauks, we are lost, for the whole body must bein that thicket. " The boat continued to approach; not a word was spoken;the dip of the paddle, and perhaps the beating hearts of some, were theonly sounds that broke the stillness. Again we looked at the chief. Hisnostrils were dilated--his eyes almost glaring. 

Suddenly, with a bound, he sprang to his feet and uttered his long, shrill whoop. 

"Hoh! hoh! hoh! Neechee (friend) _Muh-no-mo-nee!_"

All was now joy and gladness. Every one was forward to shake hands withthe strangers as soon as we could reach them, in token of oursatisfaction that they were Menomonees and not Sauks, of the latter ofwhom, by the way, they could give us no intelligence. 

By noon of that day we considered ourselves to be out of the region ofdanger. Still, caution was deemed necessary, and when at the mid-daypipe the boat was pushed ashore under a beautiful overhanging bank, crowned with a thick wood, the usual vigilance was somewhat relaxed, andthe young people, under the escort of Arthur and Mâtâ, were permitted toroam about a little, in the vicinity of the boat. 

They soon came back, with the report that the woods were "alive withpigeons, "--they could almost knock them down with sticks; and earnestlydid they plead to be allowed to shoot at least enough for supper. Butno--the enemy might be nearer than we imagined--the firing of a gunwould betray our whereabouts--it was most prudent to give no notice tofriend or foe. So, very reluctantly, they were compelled to return tothe boat without their game. 

The next morning brought us to Powell's, at the Butte des Morts. Sadwere the faces of the poor Frenchmen at learning that not a loaf ofbread was to be had. Our own store, too, was by this time quiteexhausted. The only substitute we could obtain was a bag of darklooking, bitter flour. With this provision for our whole party, we wereforced to be contented, and we left the Hillock of the Dead, feelingthat it had been indeed the grave of our hopes. 

By dint of good rowing, our crew soon brought us to the spot where theriver enters that beautiful sheet of water, Winnebago Lake. Though therewas but little wind when we reached the lake, the Frenchmen hoistedtheir sail, in hopes to save themselves the labor of rowing across; butin vain did they whistle, with all the force of their lungs--in vain didthey supplicate _La Vierge_, with a comical mixture of fun andreverence. As a last resource, it was at length suggested by some onethat their only chance lay in propitiating the goddess of the winds withan offering of some cast-off garment. 

Application was made all round by Guardapié, the chief spokesman of thecrew. Alas! not one of the poor voyageurs could boast a spare article. Afew old rags were at length rummaged out of the little receptacle offood, clothing, and dirt in the bow of the boat, and cast into the wavesFor a moment all flattered themselves that the experiment had beensuccessful--the sail fluttered, swelled a little, and then flapped idlydown against the mast. The party were in despair, until, after awhispered consultation together, Julian and Edwin stepped forward asmessengers of mercy. In a trice they divested themselves of jacket andvest and made a proffer of their next garment to aid in raising thewind. 

At first there seemed a doubt in the minds of the boatmen whether theyought to accept so magnificent an offer; but finding, on giving them apreparatory shake, that the value of the contribution was less than theyhad imagined, they, with many shouts and much laughter, consigned themto the waves. To the great delight and astonishment of the boys, abreeze at this moment sprang up, which carried the little vesselbeautifully over the waters for about half the distance to GarlicIsland. By this time the charm was exhausted, nor was it found possibleto renew it by a repetition of similar offerings. All expedients weretried without success, and, with sundry rather disrespectful reflectionsupon the lady whose aid they had invoked, the Frenchmen were compelledto betake themselves to their oars, until they reached the island. 

Two or three canoes of Winnebagoes arrived at the same moment, and theirowners immediately stepped forward with an offering of some sturgeonwhich they had caught in the lake. As this promised to be an agreeablevariety to the noon-tide meal (at least for the Frenchmen), it wasdecided to stop and kindle a fire for the purpose of cooking it. We tookadvantage of this interval to recommend to the boys a stroll to theopposite side of the island, where the clear, shallow water and pebblybeach offered temptation to a refreshing bath. While they availedthemselves of this, under the supervision of Harry, the black boy, weamused ourselves with gathering the fine red raspberries with which theisland abounded. 

Our enjoyment was cut short, however, by discovering that the wholeplace, vines, shrubs, and even, apparently, the earth itself, wasinfested with myriads of the wood-tick, a little insect, that, havingfastened to the skin, penetrates into the very flesh, causing a swellingand irritation exceeding painful, and even dangerous. The alarm wassounded, to bring the boys back in all haste to the open and morefrequented part of the island. But we soon found we had not left ourtormentors behind. Throughout the day we continued to be sensible oftheir proximity. From the effects of their attacks we were not relievedfor several succeeding days; those which had succeeded in buryingthemselves in the flesh having to be removed with the point of apenknife or a large needle. After partaking of our dinner, we stepped onboard our boat, and, the wind having risen, we were carried by thebreeze to the farther verge of the lake, and into the entrance of theriver, or, as it was called, the Winnebago Rapids. 

On the point of land to the right stood a collection of neat barkwigwams--this was Four-Legs' village. 

It was an exciting and somewhat hazardous passage down the rapids andover the Grand Chûte, a fall of several feet; but it was safely passed, and at the approach of evening the boat reached the settlement of theWaubanakees at the head of the Little Chûte. These are the Stockbridgeor Brothertown Indians, the remains of the old Mohicans, who had, a fewyears before, emigrated from Oneida County, in the State of New York, toa tract granted them by the United States, on the fertile banks of theFox River. They had already cleared extensive openings in the forest, and built some substantial and comfortable houses near the banks of theriver, which were here quite high, and covered for the most part withgigantic trees. 

It was determined to ask hospitality of these people, to the extent ofborrowing a corner of their fire to boil our tea-kettle, and bake theshort-cake which had been now, for nearly two days, our substitute forbread. Its manufacture had been a subject of much merriment. Theingredients, consisting of Powell's black flour, some salt, and a littlebutter, were mixed in the tin box which had held our meat. This was thenreversed, and, having been properly cleansed, supplied the place of adough-board. The vinegar-bottle served the office of rolling-pin, and ashallow tin dish formed the appliance for baking. The Waubanakees wereso good as to lend us an iron bake-kettle, and superintend the cookingof our cake after Harry had carried it up to their dwelling. 

So kind and hospitable did they show themselves, that the crew of theboat took the resolution of asking a lodging on shore, by way of reliefafter their crowded quarters in the boat for the last three nights. Arthur and Mâtâ soon adopted the same idea, and we were invited tofollow their example, with the assurance that the houses were extremelyneat and orderly. 

We preferred, however, as it was a fine night, and all things were socomfortably arranged in the boat, to remain on board, keeping Edwin andJosette with us. 

The boat was tightly moored, for the little Chûte was just below, and ifour craft should break loose in the rapid current, and drift down overthe falls, it would be a very serious matter. As an additionalprecaution, one man was left on board to keep all things safe and inorder, and, these arrangements having been made, the others ascended thebank, and took up their night's lodgings in the Waubanakee cabins. 

It was a beautiful, calm, moonlight night, the air just sufficientlywarm to be agreeable, while the gentle murmur of the rapids and of thefall, at no great distance, soon lulled our party to repose. How long wehad slumbered we knew not, when we were aroused by a rushing wind. Itbent the poles supporting the awning, snapped them, and, another gustsucceeding, tent and blanket were carried away on the blast down thestream. The moonlight was gone, but a flash of lightning showed themsailing away like a spectre in the distance. 

The storm increased in violence. The rain began to pour in torrents, andthe thunder and lightning to succeed each other in fearful rapidity. Mysister sprang to waken the Frenchman. "Get up, Vitelle, quick, " criedshe, in French, "run up the bank for Mâtâ and Mr. Arthur--tell them tocome and get us instantly. "

The man made her no reply, but fell upon his knees, invoking the Virginmost vociferously. 

"Do not wait for the Virgin, but go as quickly as possible. Do you notsee we shall all be killed?"

"Oh! not for the world, madame, not for the world, " said Vitelle, burying his head in a pack of furs, "would I go up that bank in thisstorm. " And here he began crying most lustily to all the saints in thecalendar. 

It Was indeed awful. The roaring of the thunder and the flashing of thelightning around us were like the continued discharge of a park ofartillery. I with some difficulty drew forth my cloak, and envelopedmyself and Josette--sister Margaret did the same with Edwin. 

"Oh I madame, " said the poor little girl, her teeth chattering with coldand fright, "won't we be drowned?"

"Very well, " said my sister to the Frenchman, "you see that Madame Johnis at the last agony--if you will not go for help I must, and MonsieurJohn must know that you left his wife to perish. "

This was too much for Vitelle. "If I must, I must, " said he, and with adesperate bound he leaped on shore and sped up the hill with might andmain. 

In a few minutes, though it seemed ages to us, a whole posse came flyingdown the hill. The incessant lightning made all things appear as in theglare of day. Mâtâ's curly hair fairly stood on end, and his eyes rolledwith ghastly astonishment at the spectacle. 

"Oh, my God, Madame Johns! what would Monsieur Johns say, to see younows?" exclaimed he, as he seized me in his arms and bore me up thehill. Arthur followed with sister Margaret, and two others with Edwinand Josette. Nobody carried Vitelle, for he had taken care not to riskhis precious life by venturing again to the boat. 

On arriving at the cabin where Arthur and Mâtâ had been lodged, a firewas, with some difficulty, kindled, and our trunks having been broughtup from the boat, we were at length able to exchange our drenchedgarments, and those of the children, for others more comfortable, afterwhich we laid ourselves upon the clean but homely bed, and slept untildaylight. 

As it was necessary to ascertain what degree of damage the cargo of furshad sustained, an early start was proposed. Apparently, the inhabitantsof the cottages had become weary in well-doing, for they declinedpreparing breakfast for us, although we assured them they should be wellcompensated for their trouble. We, consequently, saw ourselves compelledto depart with very slender prospects of a morning meal. 

When we reached the boat, what a scene presented itself! Bedclothes, cloaks, trunks, mess-basket, packs of furs, all bearing the marks of acomplete deluge! The boat ankle-deep in water--literally no place onboard where we could either stand or sit. After some bailing out, and anattempt at disposing some of the packs of furs which had suffered leastfrom the flood, so as to form a sort of divan in the centre of the boat, nothing better seemed to offer than to re-embark, and endure what couldnot be cured. 

Our position was not an enviable one. Wherever a foot or hand wasplaced, the water gushed up, with a bubbling sound, and, oh! the stateof the bandboxes and work-baskets! Breakfast there was none, for onexamining the mess-basket everything it contained was found mingled inone undistinguishable mass. Tea, pepper, salt, short-cake, all floatingtogether--it was a hopeless case. 

But this was not the worst. As the fervid July sun rose higher in theheavens, the steam which exhaled from every object on board was nearlysuffocating. The boat was old--the packs of skins were old--theirvicinity in a dry day had been anything but agreeable--now it wasintolerable. There was no retreating from it, however; so we encouragedthe children to arm themselves with patience, for the short time thatyet remained of our voyage. 

Seated on our odoriferous couch, beneath the shade of a single umbrella, to protect our whole party from the scorching sun, we glided wearilydown the stream, through that long, tedious day. As we passedsuccessively the Kakalin, the Rapids, Dickenson's, the Agency, with whatlonging eyes did we gaze at human habitations, where others wereenjoying the shelter of a roof and the comforts of food--and how eagerlydid we count the hours which must elapse before we could reach PortHoward!

There were no songs from the poor Frenchmen this day. Music and fastingdo not go well together. At length we stopped at Shanty-town, where theboat was to be unloaded. All hands fell to work to transfer the cargo tothe warehouse of the Fur Company, which stood near the landing. It wasnot a long operation, for all worked heartily. This being accomplished, the voyageurs, one and all, prepared to take their leave. In vain Mâtâstormed and raved--in vain Arthur remonstrated. 

"No, " they said, "they had brought the boat and cargo to thewarehouse--that was all of their job. " And they turned to go. 

"Guardapié, " said I, "do you intend to leave us here?"

"Bien, madame! it is the place we always stop at. "

"Does Monsieur John pay you for bringing his family down?"

"Oh, yes, Monsieur John has given us an order on the sutler, at theFort down below. "

"To be paid when you deliver us safe at the Fort down below. It seems Ishall be there before you, and I shall arrange that matter. MonsieurJohn never dreamed that this would be your conduct. "

The Frenchmen consulted together, and the result was that Guardapié withtwo others jumped into the boat, took their oars, and rather sulkilyrowed us the remaining two miles to Fort Howard. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

FORT HOWARD--OUR RETURN HOME. 

We soon learned that a great panic prevailed at Green Bay on account ofthe Sauks. The people seemed to have possessed themselves with the ideathat the enemy would visit this place on their way to Canada to putthemselves under the protection of the British Government. How they wereto get there from this point--whether they were to stop and fabricatethemselves bark canoes for the purpose, or whether they were to charterone of Mr. Newbery's schooners for the trip, the good people did notseem fully to have made up their minds. One thing is certain, a portionof the citizens were nearly frightened to death, and were fullyconvinced that there was no safety for them but within the walls of theold dilapidated fort, from which nearly all the troops had beenwithdrawn and sent to Fort Winnebago some time previous. 

Their fears were greatly aggravated by a report, brought by sometraveller, that he had slept at night on the very spot where the Sauksbreakfasted the next morning. Now, as the Sauks were known to be reducedto very short commons, there was every reason to suppose that if the manhad waited half an hour longer they would have eaten him; so he wasconsidered to have made a wonderful escape. 

Our immediate friends and acquaintances were far from joining in thesefears. The utter improbability of such a movement was obvious to all whoconsidered the nature of the country to be traversed, and the efficientand numerous body of whites by whom they must be opposed on theirentrance into that neighborhood. There were some, however, who could notbe persuaded that there was any security but in flight, and eagerly wasthe arrival of the "Mariner" looked for, as the anxiety grew more andmore intense. 

The "Mariner" appeared at last. It was early in the morning. In one hourfrom the time of her arrival the fearful news she brought had spread thewhole length of the settlement--"the cholera was in this country! It wasin Detroit--it was among the troops who were on their way to the seat ofwar! Whole companies had died of it in the river St. Clair, and thesurvivors had been put on shore at Port Gratiot, to save their lives asbest they might!" We were shut in between the savage foe on one hand andthe pestilence on the other!

To those who had friends at the East the news was most appalling. Itseemed to unman every one who heard it. An officer who had exhibited themost distinguished prowess in the battle-field, and also in some privateenterprises demanding unequalled courage and daring, was the first tobring us the news. When he had communicated it, he laid his headagainst the window-sill and wept like a child. 

Those who must perforce rejoin friends near and dear, left the Bay inthe "Mariner;" all others considered their present home the safest; andso it proved, for the dreadful scourge did not visit Green Bay thatseason. 

The weather was intensely hot, and the mosquitoes so thick that we didnot pretend to walk on the parade after sunset, unless armed with twofans, or green branches to keep constantly in motion, in order todisperse them. This, by the way, was the surest method of attractingthem. We had somehow forgotten the apathetic indifference which hadoften excited our wonder in Old Smoker, as we had observed him calmlysitting and allowing his naked arms and person to become literally_gray_ with the tormenting insects. Then he would quietly wipe off ahandful, the blood following the movement of the hand over his skin, andstoically wait for an occasion to repeat the movement. It is said thatthe mosquito, if undisturbed until he has taken his fill, leaves a muchless inflamed bite than if brushed away in the midst of his feast. 

By day, the air was at this season filled with what is called the GreenBay fly, a species of dragon-fly, with which the outer walls of thehouses are at times so covered that their color is hardlydistinguishable. Their existence is very ephemeral, scarcely lastingmore than a day. Their dead bodies are seen adhering to the walls andwindows within, and they fall without in such numbers that after a highwind has gathered them into rows along the sides of the quarters, onemay walk through them and toss them up with their feet like the dryleaves in autumn. 

As we walked across the parade, our attention was sometimes called to atapping upon the bars of the dungeon in which a criminal wasconfined--it was the murderer of Lieutenant Foster. 

It may be remembered that this amiable young officer had been ourtravelling companion in our journey from Chicago the preceding year. Some months after his arrival at Port Howard, he had occasion to order asoldier of his company, named Doyle, into confinement for intoxication. The man, a few days afterwards, prevailed on the sergeant of the guardto escort him to Lieutenant Foster's quarters on the plea that he wishedto speak to him. He ascended the stairs to the young officer's room, while the sergeant and another soldier remained at the foot, near thedoor. 

Doyle entered, and, addressing Lieutenant Foster, said, "Will you pleasetell me, lieutenant, what I am confined for?"

"No, sir, " replied the officer; "you know your offence well enough;return to your place of confinement. "

The man ran down-stairs, wrenched the gun from the sergeant's hand, and, rushing back, discharged it at the heart of Lieutenant Foster. 

He turned to go to his inner apartment, but exclaiming, "Ah me!" he felldead before the entrance. 

Doyle, having been tried by a civil court, was now under sentence, awaiting his execution. He was a hardened villain, never exhibiting theslightest compunction for his crime. 

The commanding officer, Major Clark, sent to him one day to inquire ifhe wanted anything for his comfort. 

"If the Major pleased, " he replied, "he should like to have a light anda copy of Byron's Works. "

Some fears were entertained that he would contrive to make way withhimself before the day of execution, and, to guard against it, he wasdeprived of everything that could furnish him a weapon. His food wasserved to him in a wooden bowl, lest a bit of broken crockery might heused as a means of self destruction. 

One morning he sent a little package to the commanding officer as apresent. It contained a strong rope, fabricated from strips of hisblanket, that he had carefully separated, and with a large stout spikeat the end of it. The message accompanying it was, "He wished MajorClark to see that if he chose to put an end to himself, he could findmeans to do it in spite of him. "

And this hardened frame of mind continued to the last. When he was ledout for execution, in passing beyond the gate, he observed a quantity oflumber recently collected for the construction of a new Company'swarehouse. 

"Ah, captain, what are you going to build here?" inquired he of CaptainScott, who attended him. 

"Doyle, " replied his captain, "you have but a few moments to live--- youhad better employ your thoughts about something else. "

"It is for that very reason, captain, " said he, "that I am inquiring--asmy time is short, I wish to gain all the information I can while itlasts. "

 * * * * *

We were not suffered to remain long in suspense in regard to the friendswe had left behind. In less than two weeks Old Smoker again made hisappearance. He was the bearer of letters from my husband, informing methat General Dodge was then with him at Port Winnebago, that GeneralsHenry and Alexander were likewise at the Fort, and that as soon as theyhad recruited their men and horses, which were pretty well worn out withscouring the country after Black Hawk, they would march again in pursuitof him towards the head-waters of the Rock River, where they had everyreason, from information lately brought in by the Winnebagoes, tobelieve he would be found. 

As he charged us to lay aside all uneasiness on his account, andmoreover held forth the hope of soon coming or sending for us, our mindsbecame more tranquil. 

Not long after this, I was told one morning that "_a lady_" wished tosee me at the front door. I obeyed the summons, and, to my surprise, wasgreeted by my friend _Madame Four-Legs. _ After much demonstration of joyat seeing me, such as putting her two hands together over her foreheadand then parting them in a waving kind of gesture, laughing, and pattingme on my arms, she drew from her bosom a letter from my husband, ofwhich she was the bearer. It was to this effect--"Generals Dodge andHenry left here a few days since, accompanied by Paquette; they met theSauks near the Wisconsin, on the 21st. A battle ensued, in which upwardsof fifty of the enemy were killed--our loss was one killed, and eightwounded. The _citizens_ are well pleased that all this has beenaccomplished without any aid from _Old White Beaver. _[56] The war mustbe near its close, for the militia and regulars together will soonfinish the remaining handful of fugitives. "

The arrival of Lieutenant Hunter, who had obtained leave of absence inorder to escort us, soon put all things in train for our return to FortWinnebago. No Mackinac boat was to be had, but in lieu of it a Durhamboat was procured. This is of a description longer and shallower thanthe other, with no convenience for rigging up an awning, or shelter ofany kind, over the centre; but its size was better fitted to accommodateour party, which consisted, besides our own family, of Lieutenant andMrs. Hunter, the wife of another officer now stationed at PortWinnebago, and our cousin, Miss Forsyth. We made up our minds, as willbe supposed, to pretty close quarters. 

Our crew was composed partly of Frenchmen and partly of soldiers, and, all things being in readiness, we set off one fine bright morning in thelatter part of July. 

Our second day's alternate rowing and poling brought us to the GrandeChûte early in the afternoon. 

Here, it is the custom to disembark at the foot of the rapids, and, ascending the high bank, walk around the fall, while the men pull theboat up through the foaming waters. 

Most of our party had already stepped on shore, when a sudden thoughtseized one of the ladies and myself. 

"Let us stay in the boat, " said we, "and be pulled up the Chûte. " Therest of the company went on, while we sat and watched with greatinterest the preparations the men were making. They were soon overboardin the water, and, attaching a strong rope to the bow of the boat, alllent their aid in pulling as they marched slowly along with their heavyload. The cargo, consisting only of our trunks and stores, which were ofno very considerable weight, had not been removed. 

We went on, now and then getting a tremendous bump against a hiddenrock, and frequently splashed by a shower of foam as the waves roaredand boiled around us. 

The men kept as close as possible to the high, precipitous bank, wherethe water was smoothest. At the head of the _cordel_ was a merrysimpleton of a Frenchman, who was constantly turning his head to grinwith delight at our evident enjoyment and excitement. 

We were indeed in high glee. "Is not this charming?" cried one. "I onlywish----"

The wish, whatever it was, was cut short by a shout and a crash. "Havea care, Robineau! Mind where you are taking the boat!" was the cry, butit came too late. More occupied with the ladies than with his duty, theleader had guided us into the midst of a sharp, projecting tree thathung from the bank. The first tug ripped out the side of the boat, whichimmediately began to fill with water. 

My companion and I jumped upon the nearest rocks that showed their headsabove the foam. Our screams and the shouts of the men brought LieutenantHunter and some Indians, who were above on the bank, dashing down to ourrescue. They carried us in their arms to land, while the men workedlustily at fishing up the contents of the boat, now thoroughly saturatedwith water. 

We scrambled up the high bank, in a miserable plight, to join in thegeneral lamentation over the probable consequences of the accident. 

"Oh! my husband's new uniform!" cried one, and "Oh! the miniatures inthe bottom of my trunk!" sighed another--while, "Oh! the silk dresses, and the ribbons, and the finery!" formed the general chorus. 

No one thought of the provisions, although we had observed, in ourprogress to shore, the barrel of bread and the tub of ice, whichLieutenant Hunter had providently brought for our refreshment, sailingaway on the dancing waves. Among the boxes brought to land, and "toted"up the steep bank, was one containing some loaves of sugar and packagesof tea, which I had bought for our winter's supply from the sutler atthe post. The young Indian who was the bearer of it set it upon theground, and soon called my attention to a thick, white stream that wasoozing from the corners. I made signs for him to taste it. He dipped hisfinger in it, and exclaimed with delight to his companions, when heperceived what it was. I then pointed to his hatchet, and motioned himto open the box. He did not require a second invitation--it was soonbacked to pieces. 

Then, as I beckoned up all the rest of the youngsters who were lookingon, full of wonder, such a scrambling and shouting with delightsucceeded as put us all, particularly the boys, into fits of laughter. Bowls, dippers, hands, everything that could contain even the smallestquantity, were put in requisition. The squaws were most active. Thosewho could do no better took the stoutest fragments of the blue paper inwhich the sugar had been enveloped, and in a trice nothing remained butthe wet, yellow bundles of tea, and the fragments of the splintered boxwhich had contained it. 

By this time fires had been made, and the articles from the trunks weresoon seen covering every shrub and bush in the vicinity. Fortunately, the box containing the new uniform had been piled high above the others, in the centre of the boat, and had received but little damage; but sadwas the condition of the wardrobes in general. 

Not a white article was to be seen. All was mottled; blue, green, red, and black intermingling in streaks, and dripping from ends and corners. 

To add to the trouble, the rain began to fall, as rain is apt to do, atan inconvenient moment, and soon the half-dried garments had to begathered out of the smoke and huddled away in a most discouragingcondition. 

The tent was pitched, wet as it was, and the blankets, wrung out of thewater, and partially dried, were spread upon the ground for ouraccommodation at night. 

A Hamburg cheese, which had been a part of my stores, was voted to mefor a pillow, and, after a supper the best part of which was a portionof one of the wet loaves which had remained in a barrel too tightlywedged to drift away, we betook ourselves to our repose. 

The next morning rose hot and sultry. The mosquitoes, which the rainhad kept at bay through the night, now began to make themselves amends, and to torment us unmercifully. 

After our most uncomfortable and unpalatable breakfast, the firstquestion for consideration was, what we were to do with ourselves. Ourboat lay submerged at the foot of the hill, half-way up the rapids. Thenearest habitation among the Waubanakees was some miles distant, andthis there was no means of reaching but by an Indian canoe, if some ofour present friends and neighbors would be so obliging as to bring onefor our use. Even then it was doubtful if boats could be foundsufficient to convey all our numerous party back to Green Bay. 

In the midst of these perplexing consultations a whoop was heard frombeyond the hill, which here sloped away to the north, at the head of therapids. 

"There is John! that is certainly his voice!" cried more than one of thecompany. 

It was, indeed, my husband, and in a moment he was among us. Never wasarrival more opportune, more evidently providential. 

Not having learned our plans (for the unsettled state of the country hadprevented our sending him word), he had come provided with a boat, totake us back to Fort Winnebago. 

Our drying operations, which we had recommenced this morning, were sooncut short. Everything was shuffled away in the most expeditious mannerpossible, and in an incredibly short time we were transferred to theother boat, which lay quietly above the Chûte, and were pulling awaytowards Winnebago Lake. 

We had resolved to go only so far as the vicinity of the lake, where thebreeze would render the mosquitoes less intolerable, and then to stopand make one more attempt at drying our clothing. Accordingly, when wereached a beautiful high bank near the Little Butte, we stopped for thatpurpose again, unpacked our trunks, and soon every bush and twig wasfluttering with the spoils of the cruel waves. 

Hardly had we thus disposed of the last rag or ribbon when the tramp ofhorses was heard, followed by loud shouts and cheers ringing through theforest. 

A company of about twenty-five horsemen, with banners flying, veilsfluttering from their hats, and arms glittering in the sun, rode intoour midst, and, amid greetings and roars of laughter, inquired into thenature and reasons of our singular state of confusion. 

They were Colonel Stambough and Alexander Irwin, of Green Bay, with acompany of young volunteers, and followed by a whooping band ofMenomonees, all bound for the seat of war. We comforted them with theassurance that the victories were by this time all won and the scalpstaken; but, expressing the hope that there were yet a few laurels to beearned, they bade us adieu, and rapidly pursued their march. 

We crossed Lake Winnebago by the clear, beautiful light of a summermoon. The soft air was just enough to swell the sail, and thus save themen their labor at the oar. 

The witchery of the hour was not, however, sufficient to induce us toforego our repose after the heat and annoyances of the day--we thereforedisposed ourselves betimes, to be packed away in the centre of the boat. How it was accomplished no one of the numerous company could tell. Ifany accident had occurred to disturb our arrangement, I am sure it wouldhave been a Chinese puzzle to put us back again in our places. The menon the outside had much the best of it, and we rather envied those whowere off watch, their ability to snore and change position as the humortook them. 

We reached Powell's just in time to have gone ashore and prepare ourbreakfast had we had wherewithal to prepare it. We had hoped to be ableto procure some supplies here, for hitherto we had been living on theremains of my husband's ample stock. That was now so nearly exhaustedthat when we found the mess-basket could not be replenished at thisplace we began to talk of putting ourselves on allowance. 

The wet bread, of which there had remained an ample store, had, as maybe readily imagined, soon fermented under the influence of a July sun. The tea, too, notwithstanding our careful efforts at drying it onnewspapers and pieces of board, ere long became musty and unfit for use. There was, literally, nothing left, except the salted meat and a fewcrackers, hardly sufficient for the present day. 

The men were therefore urged to make all the speed possible, that wemight reach Gleason's, at Lake Puckaway, in good season on the followingday. 

At evening, when we stopped to take our tea at a beautiful littleopening among the trees, we found our old enemies, the mosquitoes, worsethan ever. It was necessary to put on our cloaks and gloves, and tie ourveils close around our throats, only venturing to introduce a cracker ora cup of tea under this protection in the most stealthy manner. 

The men rowed well, and brought us to Gleason's about eleven o'clock thenext day. We were greeted with the most enthusiastic demonstrations bymy old friend _La Grosse Américaine, _ who had removed here fromBellefontaine. 

"Oh, Mrs. Armstrong, " cried we, "get us some breakfast--we arefamishing!"

At that instant who should appear but our faithful Mâtâ, driving the oldcalèche in which we were in the habit of making our little excursions inthe neighborhood of the Port. He had ridden over, hoping to meet us, inthe idea that some of us would prefer this method of reaching our home. 

With provident thoughtfulness, he had brought tea, roasted coffee, freshbutter, eggs, etc. , lest we should be short of such luxuries in thatadvanced stage of our journey. 

His "Good-morning, Madame Johns! How do you dos?" was a pleasant andwelcome sound. 

We could not wait for our breakfast, but gathered round La GrosseAméricaine like a parcel of children while she cut and spread slices ofbread-and-butter for us. 

After our regular meal was finished, it was decided that sister Margaretshould take Josette, and return with Mâtâ to open the house and make itready for our reception. It had been the head-quarters of militia, Indians, and stragglers of various descriptions during our absence, andwe could easily imagine that a little "misrule and unreason" might havehad sway for that period. 

We had yet seventy-two miles, by the devious winding course of theriver, over first the beautiful waters of Lac de Boeuf, and then throughthe low, marshy lands that spread away to the Portage. An attempt wasmade on the part of one of the gentlemen to create a little excitementamong the ladies as we approached the spot where it had been supposedthe Sauks might pass on their way to the Chippewa country. 

"Who knows, " said he, gravely, "but they may be lurking in thisneighborhood yet? If so, we shall probably have some signal. We must beon the alert!"

Some of the ladies began to turn pale and look about them. After aninterval of perfect silence, a low, prolonged whistle was heard. Therewas so much agitation, and even actual terror, that the mischievousauthor of the trick was obliged to confess at once, and receive a heartyscolding for the pain he had caused. 

Just before sunset of the second day from Gleason's we reached our home. Every thing was _radiant_ with neatness and good order. With theefficient aid of our good Manaigre and his wife, the house had beenwhitewashed from the roof to the door-sill, a thorough scrubbing andcleansing effected, the carpets unpacked and spread upon the floors, thefurniture arranged, and, though last not least, a noble supper smokedupon the board by the time we had made, once more, a civilized toilet. 

Many of our friends from the Fort were there to greet us, and a morehappy or thankful party has seldom been assembled. 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

SURRENDER OF WINNEBAGO PRISONERS. 

The war was now considered at an end. The news of the battle of the BadAxe, where the regulars, the militia, and the steamboat Warriorcombined, had made a final end of the remaining handful of Sauks, hadreached us and restored tranquillity to the hearts and homes of thefrontier settlers. 

It may seem wonderful that an enemy so few in number and soinsignificant in resources could have created such a panic, andrequired so vast an amount of opposing force to subdue them. Thedifficulty had been simply in never knowing where to find them, eitherto attack or guard against them. Probably at the outset every militaryman thought and felt like the noble old veteran General Brady. "Give metwo infantry companies mounted, " said he, "and I will engage to whip theSauks out of the country in one week!"

True, but to whip the enemy you must first meet him; and in order topursue effectually and _catch_ the Indians, a peculiar training isnecessary--a training which, at that day, few, even of the frontiermilitia, could boast. 

In some portions of this campaign there was another difficulty, --thewant of concert between the two branches of the service. The regulartroops looked with contempt upon the unprofessional movements of themilitia; the militia railed at the dilatory and useless formalities ofthe regulars. Each avowed the conviction that matters could be muchbetter conducted without the other, and the militia, being prompt toact, sometimes took matters into their own hands, and brought on defeatand disgrace, as in the affair of "Stillman's Run. "

The feeling of contempt which the army officers entertained for themilitia, extended itself to their subordinates and dependants. After thevisit of the Ranger officers to Fort Winnebago, before the battle of theWisconsin, the officer of the mess where they had been entertainedcalled up his servant one day to inquire into the sutler's accounts, Hewas the same little "Yellow David" who had formerly appertained toCaptain Harney. 

"David, " said the young gentleman, "I see three bottles of cologne-watercharged in the month's account of the mess at the sutler's. What doesthat mean?"

"If you please, lieutenant, " said David, respectfully, "it was tosweeten up the dining-room and quarters after them milish' officers werehere visiting. "

Black Hawk and a few of his warriors had escaped to the north, wherethey were shortly after captured by the One-eyed Day-kau-ray and hisparty, and brought prisoners to General Street at Prairie du Chien. Thewomen and children of the band had been put in canoes and sent down theMississippi, in hopes of being permitted to cross and reach the rest ofthat tribe. 

The canoes had been tied together, and many of them were upset, and thechildren drowned, their mothers being too weak and exhausted to rescuethem. The survivors were taken prisoners, and, starving and miserable, were brought to Prairie du Chien. Our mother was at the Port at the timeof their arrival. She described their condition as wretched and reducedbeyond anything she had ever witnessed. One woman who spoke a littleChippewa gave her an account of the sufferings and hardships they hadendured--it was truly appalling. 

After having eaten such of the horses as could be spared, they hadsubsisted on acorns, elm-bark, or even grass. Many had died ofstarvation, and their bodies were found lying in their trail by thepursuing whites. This poor woman had lost her husband in battle, and allher children by the upsetting of the canoe in which they were, and heronly wish now was, to go and join them. Poor Indians! who can wonderthat they do not love the whites?

But a very short time had we been quietly at home when a summons came tomy husband to collect the principal chiefs of the Winnebagoes and meetGeneral Scott and Governor Reynolds at Rock Island, where it wasproposed to bold a treaty for the purchase of all the lands east andsouth of the Wisconsin. Messengers were accordingly sent to collect theprincipal men, and, accompanied by as many as chose to reportthemselves, he set off on his journey. 

He had been gone about two weeks, and I was beginning to count the dayswhich must elapse before I could reasonably expect his return, when, oneafternoon, I went over to pay a visit to my sister at the Fort. As Ipassed into the large hall of one range of quarters, Lieutenant Lacycame suddenly in from the opposite direction, and, almost withoutstopping, cried, --

"Bad news, madam! Have you heard it?"

"No. What is it?"

"The cholera has broken out at Rock Island, and they are dying by fivehundred a day. Dr. Finley has just arrived with the news. " So saying, hevanished, without stopping to answer a question. 

The cholera at Rock Island, and my husband there! I flew to the otherdoor of the hall, which looked out upon the parade-ground. A sentinelwas walking near. "Soldier, " cried I, "will you run to the youngofficers' quarters and ask Dr. Finley to come here for a moment?"

The man shook his head--he was not allowed to leave his post. 

Presently Mrs. Lacy's servant-girl appeared from a door under the steps. She was a worthless creature, but where _help_ was so scarce ladiescould not afford to keep a scrupulous tariff of moral qualification. 

"Oh! Catharine, " said I, "will you run over and ask Dr. Finley to comehere a moment? I must hear what news he has brought from Rock Island. "She put on a modest look, and said, --

"I do not like to go to the young officers' quarters. "

I was indignant at her hypocrisy, but I was also wild with impatience, when to my great joy Dr. Finley made his appearance. 

"Where is my husband?" cried I. 

"On his way home, madam, safe and sound. He will probably be hereto-morrow. " He then gave me an account of the ravages the cholera wasmaking among the troops, which were indeed severe, although less so thanrumor had at first proclaimed. 

Notwithstanding the doctor's assurance of his safety, my husband wasseized with cholera on his journey. By the kind care of Paquette and theplentiful use of chicken-broth which the poor woman at whose cabin hestopped administered to him, he soon recovered, and reached his home insafety, having taken Prairie du Chien in his route and brought hismother with him again to her home. 

The Indians had consented to the sale of their beautiful domain. Indeed, there is no alternative in such cases. If they persist in retainingthem, and become surrounded and hemmed in by the white settlers, theirsituation is more deplorable than if they surrendered their homesaltogether. This they are aware of, and therefore, as a general thing, they give up their lands at the proposal of Government, and only takecare to make the best bargain they can for themselves. In this instancethey were to receive as an equivalent a tract of land[57] extending tothe interior of Iowa, and an additional sum of ten thousand dollarsannually. 

One of the stipulations of the treaty was, the surrender by theWinnebagoes of certain individuals of their tribe accused of havingparticipated with the Sauks in some of the murders on the frontier, inorder that they might be tried by our laws, and acquitted or punished asthe case might be. 

Wau-kaun-kah (the Little Snake) voluntarily gave himself as a hostageuntil the delivery of the suspected persons. He was accordingly receivedby the Agent, and marched over and placed in confinement at the Fortuntil the seven accused should appear to redeem him. 

It was a work of some little time on the part of the nation to persuadethese suspected individuals to place themselves in the hands of thewhites, that they might receive justice according to the laws of thelatter. The trial of Red Bird, and his languishing death in prison, werestill fresh in their memories, and it needed a good deal of resolution, as well as a strong conviction of conscious innocence, to brace them upto such a step. 

It had to be brought about by arguments and persuasions, for the nationwould never have resorted to force to compel the fulfilment of theirstipulation. 

In the mean time a solemn talk was held with the principal chiefsassembled at the Agency. A great part of the nation were in theimmediate neighborhood, in obedience to a notice sent by GovernorPorter, who, in virtue of his office of Governor of Michigan Territory, was also Superintendent of the Northwest Division of the Indians. Instead of calling upon the Agent to take charge of the annuity money, as had heretofore been the custom, the Governor had announced hisintention of bringing it himself to Fort Winnebago and being present atthe payment. The time appointed had now arrived, and with it the mainbody of the Winnebagoes. 

Such of the Indians as had not attended the treaty at Rock Island andbeen instrumental in the cession of their country, were loud in theircondemnation of the step, and their lamentations over it. Foremost amongthese was Wild-Cat, the Falstaff of Garlic Island and its vicinity. Itwas little wonder that he should shed bitter tears, as he did, over theloss of his beautiful home on the blue waters of Winnebago Lake. 

"If he had not been accidentally stopped, " he said, "on his way to thetreaty, and detained until it was too late, he would never, never havepermitted the bargain. "

His Father, who knew that a desperate frolic, into which Wild-Cat hadbeen enticed by the way, was the cause of his failing to accompany hiscountrymen to Rock Island, replied, gravely, --

"That he had heard of the chief's misfortune on this occasion. How that, in ascending the Fox River, a couple of kegs of _whiskey_ had comefloating down the stream, which, running foul of his canoe with greatforce, had injured it to such a degree that he had been obliged to stopseveral days at the _Mee-kan, _ to repair damages. "

The shouts of laughter which greeted this explanation were so contagiousthat poor Wild-Cat himself was compelled to join in it, and treat hismisfortune as a joke. 

The suspected Indians having engaged the services of Judge Doty todefend them on their future trial, notice was at length given that on acertain day they would be brought to the Portage and surrendered totheir Father, to be by him transferred to the keeping of the militaryofficer appointed to receive them. 

It was joyful news to poor Wau-kaun-kah, that the day of his release wasat hand. Every time that we had been within the walls of the Fort we hadbeen saluted by a call from him, as he kept his station at theguard-room window:

"Do you hear anything of those Indians? When are they coming, that I maybe let out?"

We had endeavored to lighten his confinement by seeing that he was wellsupplied with food, and his Father and Paquette had paid him occasionalvisits; but, notwithstanding these attentions and the kindness he hadreceived at the Fort, his confinement was inexpressibly irksome. 

On the morning of a bright autumnal day the authorities were notifiedthat the chiefs of the nation would present themselves at the Agency todeliver the suspected persons as prisoners to the Americans. 

At the hour of ten o'clock, as we looked out over the Portage road, wecould descry a moving concourse of people, in which brilliant color, glittering arms, and, as they approached still nearer, certain whiteobjects of unusual appearance could be distinguished. 

General Dodge, Major Plympton, and one or two other officers took theirseats with Mr. Kinzie on the platform in front of the door of ourmansion to receive them, while we stationed ourselves at the windowwhere we could both see and hear. 

The procession wound up the hill, and approached, marching slowlytowards us. It was a grand and solemn sight. First came some of theprincipal chiefs in their most brilliant array. Next, the prisoners, allhabited in white cotton, in token of their innocence, with girdles roundtheir waists. The music of the drum and the shee-shee-qua accompaniedtheir death-song, which they were chaunting. They wore no paint, noornaments--their countenances were grave and thoughtful. It might wellbe a serious moment to them, for they knew but little of the customs ofthe whites, and that little was not such as to inspire cheerfulness. Only their Father's assurance that they should receive strict justice, would probably have induced them to comply with the engagements of thenation in this manner. 

The remainder of the procession was made up of a long train ofWinnebagoes, all decked out in their holiday garb. 

The chiefs approached and shook hands with the gentlemen, who stoodready to receive their greeting. Then the prisoners came forward, andwent through the same salutation with the officers. When they offeredtheir hands to their Father, he declined. 

"No, " said he. "You have come here accused of great crimes--of havingassisted in taking the lives of some of the defenceless settlers. Whenyou have been tried by the laws of the land, and been proved innocent, then your Father will give you his hand. "

They looked still more serious at this address, as if they thought itindicated that their Father, too, believed them guilty, and steppingback a little, they seated themselves, without speaking, in a row uponthe ground, facing their Father and the officers. The other Indians alltook seats in a circle around them, except the one-eyed chief, Kau-ray-kau-say-kah (the White Crow), who had been deputed to deliverthe prisoners to the Agent. 

He made a speech in which he set forth that, "although asserting theirinnocence of the charges preferred against them, his countrymen werequite willing to be tried by the laws of white men. He hoped they wouldnot be detained long, but that the matter would be investigated soon, and that they would come out of it clear and white. "

In reply he was assured that all things would be conducted fairly andimpartially, exactly as if the accused were white men, and the hope wasadded that they would be found to have been good and true citizens, andpeaceful children of their Great Father, the President. 

When this was over, White Crow requested permission to transfer themedal he had received as a mark of friendship from the President, to hisson, who stood beside him, and who had been chosen by the nation to fillhis place as chief, an office he was desirous of resigning. Thespeeches made upon this occasion, as interpreted by Paquette, the modestdemeanor of the young man, and the dignified yet feeling manner of thefather throughout, made the whole ceremony highly impressive; and whenthe latter took the medal from his neck and hung it around that of hisson, addressing him a few appropriate words, I think no one could havewitnessed the scene unmoved. 

I had watched the countenances of the prisoners as they sat on theground before me, while all these ceremonies were going forward. Withone exception they were open, calm, and expressive of consciousinnocence. Of that one I could not but admit there might be reasonabledoubts. One was remarkably fine-looking--another was a boy of certainlynot more than seventeen, and during the transfer of the medal he lookedfrom one to the other, and listened to what was uttered by the speakers, with an air and expression of even childlike interest and satisfaction. 

Our hearts felt sad for them as, the ceremonies finished, they wereconducted by a file of soldiers and committed to the dungeon of theguard-house until such time as they should be summoned to attend thecourt appointed to try their cause. 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

ESCAPE OF THE PRISONERS. 

The Indians did not disperse after the ceremonies of the surrender hadbeen gone through. They continued still in the vicinity of the Portage, in the constant expectation of the arrival of the annuity money, whichthey had been summoned there to receive. But the time for setting outon his journey to bring it was postponed by Governor Porter from week toweek. Had he foreseen all the evils this delay was to occasion, hewould, possibly, have been more prompt in fulfilling his appointment. 

Many causes conspired to make an early payment desirable. In the firstplace, the Winnebagoes, having been driven from their homes by theiranxiety to avoid all appearance of fraternizing with the Sauks, had madethis year no gardens nor corn-fields They had, therefore, no provisionson hand, either for present use or for their winter's consumption, except their scanty supplies of wild rice. While this was disappearingduring their protracted detention at the Portage, they were running therisk of leaving themselves quite unprovided with food, in case of a badhunting-season during the winter and spring. 

In the next place, the rations which the Agent had been accustomed, bythe permission of Government, to deal out occasionally to them, were nowcut off by a scarcity in the Commissary's department. The frequentlevies of the militia during the summer campaign, and the reinforcementof the garrison by the troops from Port Howard, had drawn so largely onthe stores at this post that there was necessity for the most rigideconomy in the issuing of supplies. 

Foreseeing this state of things, Mr. Kinzie, as soon as the war was atan end, commissioned Mr. Kercheval, then sutler at Fort Howard, toprocure him a couple of boat-loads of corn, to be distributed among theIndians. Unfortunately, there was no corn to be obtained from Michigan;it was necessary to bring it from Ohio, and by the time it at lengthreached Green Bay (for in those days business was never done in a hurry)the navigation of the Fox River had closed, and it was detained there, to be brought up the following spring. 

As day after day wore on and "the silver" did not make its appearance, the Indians were advised by their Father to disperse to theirhunting-grounds to procure food, with the promise that they should besummoned immediately on the arrival of Governor Porter; and this advicethey followed. 

While they had been in our neighborhood, they had more than once askedpermission to dance the _scalp-dance, _ before our door. This is the mostfrightful, heart-curdling exhibition that can possibly be imagined. Thescalps are stretched on little hoops, or frames, and carried on the endof slender poles. These are brandished about in the course of the dance, with cries, shouts, and furious gestures. The women, who commence asspectators, becoming excited with the scene and the music which theirown discordant notes help to make more deafening, rush in, seize thescalps from the hands of the owners, and toss them frantically about, with the screams and yells of demons. I have seen as many as forty orfifty scalps figuring in one dance. Upon one occasion one was borne byan Indian who approached quite near me, and I shuddered as I observedthe long, fair hair, evidently that of a woman. Another Indian had theskin of a human hand, stretched and prepared with as much care as if ithad been some costly jewel. When these dances occurred, as theysometimes did, by moonlight, they were peculiarly horrid and revolting. 

 * * * * *

Amid so many events of a painful character there were not wantingoccasionally some that bordered on the ludicrous. 

One evening, while sitting at tea, we were alarmed by the sound of gunsfiring in the direction of the Wisconsin. All started up, and prepared, instinctively, for flight to the garrison. As we left the house we foundthe whole bluff and the meadow below in commotion, --Indians running withtheir guns and spears across their shoulders to the scene ofalarm--squaws and children standing in front of their lodges and lookinganxiously in the direction of the unusual and unaccountablesounds--groups of French and half-breeds, like ourselves, fleeing togain the bridge and place themselves within the pickets so latelyerected. 

As one company of Indians passed us hurriedly, some weapon carelesslycarried hit one of our party on the side of the head. "Oh!" shriekedshe, "I am killed! an Indian has tomahawked me!" and she was onlyreassured by finding she could still run as fast as the best of us. 

When we reached the parade-ground, within the Fort, we could not helplaughing at the grotesque appearance we presented. Some without hats orshawls--others with packages of valuables hastily secured at themoment--one with her piece of bread-and-butter in hand, which she hadnot had the presence of mind to lay aside when she took to flight. 

The alarm was, in the end, found to have proceeded from a party ofWinnebagoes from one of the Barribault villages, who, being about toleave their home for a period, were going through the ceremony ofburying the scalps which they and their fathers had taken. 

Like the military funerals among civilized nations, their solemnitieswere closed on this occasion by the discharge of several volleys overthe grave of their trophies. 

 * * * * *

At length, about the beginning of November, two months after the timeappointed, Governor Porter, accompanied by Major Forsyth and Mr. Kercheval, arrived with the annuity money. The Indians were againassembled, the payment was made, and having supplied themselves with alarger quantity of ammunition than usual, --for they saw the necessity ofa good hunt to remedy past and present deficiencies, --they set off fortheir wintering grounds. 

We were, ourselves, about changing our quarters, to our no smallsatisfaction. Notwithstanding the Indian disturbances, the new AgencyHouse (permission to build which had, after much delay, been accorded byGovernment) had been going steadily on, and soon after the departure ofthe Governor and his party, we took possession of it. 

We had been settled but a few weeks, when one morning Lieutenant Daviesappeared just as we were sitting down to breakfast, with a face full ofconsternation. "_The Indian prisoners had escaped from the black-hole_!The commanding officer, Colonel Cutler, had sent for Mr. Kinzie to comeover to the Fort and counsel with him what was to be done. "

The prisoners had probably commenced their operations very soon afterbeing placed in the _black-hole_, a dungeon in the basement of theguard-house. They observed that their meals were brought regularly, three times a day, and that in the intervals they were left entirely tothemselves. With their knives they commenced excavating an opening, theearth from which, as it was withdrawn, they spread about on the floor oftheir prison. A blanket was placed over the hole, and one of the companywas always seated upon it, before the regular time for the soldier whohad charge of them to make his appearance. When the periodical visit wasmade, the Indians were always observed to be seated, smoking in the mostorderly and quiet manner. There was never anything in their appearanceto excite suspicion. 

The prisoners had never read the memoirs of Baron Trenck, but they hadwatched the proceedings of the badgers; so, profiting by their example, they worked on, shaping the opening spirally, until, in about six weeks, they came out to the open air beyond the walls of the Fort. 

That they might be as little encumbered as possible in their flight, they left their blankets behind them, and although it was bitterDecember weather, they took to the woods and prairies with only theircalico shirts and leggings for covering. We can readily believe thathope and exultation kept them comfortably warm until they reached anasylum among their friends. 

It would be compromising our own reputation as loyal and patrioticcitizens to tell of the secret rejoicing this news occasioned us. 

The question now was, how to get the fugitives back again. The Agentcould promise no more than that he would communicate with the chiefs, and represent the wishes of the officers that the prisoners should oncemore surrender themselves, and thus free those who had had the charge ofthem from the imputation of carelessness, which the Government would bevery likely to throw upon them. 

When, according to their custom, many of the chiefs assembled at theAgency on New-Year's Day, their Father laid the subject before them. 

The Indians replied, that _if they saw the young men_ they would tellthem what the officers would like to have them do. They could, themselves, do nothing in the matter. They had fulfilled theirengagement by bringing them once and putting them in the hands of theofficers. The Government had had them in its power once and could notkeep them--it must now go and catch them itself. 

The Government, having had some experience the past summer in "catchingIndians, " wisely concluded to drop the matter. 

About this time another event occurred which occasioned no smallexcitement in our little community. Robineau, the striker from theblacksmith establishment at Sugar Creek, near the Four Lakes, arrivedone very cold day at the Agency. He had come to procure medical aid forMâtâ's eldest daughter, Sophy, who, while sliding on the lake, hadfallen on the ice and been badly hurt. Her father was absent, havinggone to Prairie du Chien to place his youngest daughter at school. Twoor three days had elapsed since the accident had happened; a high feverhad set in, and the poor girl was in a state of great suffering; it hadtherefore been thought best to send Robineau to us for advice and aid, leaving Turcotte and a friendly Indian woman from a neighboring lodge totake charge of poor Sophy. 

The commanding officer did not think it prudent, when the subject waslaid before him, to permit the surgeon to leave the post, but he verycheerfully granted leave of absence to Currie, the hospital steward, ayoung man who possessed some knowledge of medicine and surgery. 

As it was important that Sophy should have an experienced nurse, weprocured the services of Madame Bellaire, the wife of the Frenchman whowas generally employed as express to Chicago; and, as an aid andcompanion, Agathe, a daughter of Day-kau-ray, who lived in Paquette'sfamily, was added to the party. 

Of Agathe I shall have more to say hereafter. 

The weather was excessively cold when Robineau, Currie, and the twowomen set out for Sugar Creek, a distance of about forty miles. We hadprovided them with a good store of rice, crackers, tea, and sugar, forthe invalid, all of which, with their provisions for the way, werepacked on the horse Robineau had ridden to the Portage. It was expectedthey would reach their place of destination on the second day. 

What, then, was our surprise to see Turcotte make his appearance on thefourth day after their departure, to inquire why Robineau had notreturned with aid for poor Sophy! There was but one solution of themystery. Robineau had guided them as ill as he had guided the boat atthe Grande Chûte the summer before, and, although he could not shipwreckthem, he had undoubtedly lost them in the woods or prairies. One comfortwas, that they could not well starve, for the rice and crackers wouldfurnish them with several days' provisions, and with Agathe, who must beaccustomed to this kind of life, they could not fail in time of findingIndians, and being brought back to the Portage. 

Still, day after day went on and we received no tidings of them. Turcotte returned to Sugar Creek with comforts and prescriptions forSophy, and Colonel Cutler sent out a party to hunt for the missing ones, among whom poor Currie, from his delicate constitution, was the objectof our greatest commiseration. 

As the snow fell and the winds howled, we could employ ourselves aboutnothing but walking from window to window, watching, in hopes of seeingsome one appear in the distance. No Indians were at hand whom we coulddispatch upon the search, and by the tenth day we had almost given up indespair. 

It was then that the joyful news was suddenly brought us, "They arefound! They are at the Fort!" A party of soldiers who had been exploringhad encountered them at Hastings's Woods, twelve miles distant, slowlyand feebly making their way back to the Portage. They knew they were onthe right track, but had hardly strength to pursue it. 

Exhausted with cold and hunger, for their provisions had given out twodays before, they had thought seriously of killing the horse and eatinghim. Nothing but Currie's inability to proceed on foot, and the dread ofbeing compelled to leave him in the woods to perish, had deterred them. 

Agathe had from the first been convinced that they were on the wrongtrack, but Robineau, with his usual obstinacy, persevered in keeping ituntil it brought them to the Rock River, when he was obliged toacknowledge his error, and they commenced retracing their steps. 

Agathe, according to the custom of her people, had carried her hatchetwith her, and thus they had always had a fire at night, and boughs toshelter them from the storms; otherwise they must inevitably haveperished. 

There were two circumstances which aroused in us a stronger feeling eventhan that of sympathy. The first was, the miserable Robineau's havingdemanded of Currie, first, all his money, and afterwards his watch, as acondition of his bringing the party back into the right path, which heaverred he knew perfectly well. 

The second was, Bellaire's giving his kind, excellent wife a heartyflogging "for going off, " as he said, "on such a fool's errand. "

The latter culprit was out of our jurisdiction, but Mons. Robineau wasdischarged on the spot, and warned that he might think himself happy toescape a legal process for swindling. 

I am happy to say that Sophy Mâtâ, in whose behalf all these sufferingshad been endured, was quite recovered by the time her father returnedfrom the Prairie. 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

AGATHE--TOMAH. 

Agathe was the daughter of an Indian who was distinguished by the nameof _Rascal_ Day-kau-ray. Whether he merited the appellation must bedetermined hereafter. He was brother to the grand old chief of thatname, but as unlike him as it is possible for those of the same blood tobe. 

The Day-kau-rays were a very handsome family, and this daughter wasremarkable for her fine personal endowments. A tall, well-developedform, a round, sweet face, and that peculiarly soft, melodious voicewhich belongs to the women of her people, would have attracted theattention of a stranger, while the pensive expression of her countenanceirresistibly drew the hearts of all towards her, and prompted the wishto know more of her history. As I received it from her friend, Mrs. Paquette, it was indeed a touching one. 

A young officer at the Fort had seen her, and had set, I will not sayhis heart--it may be doubted if he had one--but his mind upon her. Heapplied to Paquette to negotiate what he called a marriage with her. Iam sorry to say that Paquette was induced to enter into this scheme. Heknew full well the sin of making false representations to the family ofAgathe, and he knew the misery he was about to bring upon her. 

The poor girl had been betrothed to a young man of her own people, and, as is generally the case, the attachment on both sides was very strong. Among these simple people, who have few subjects of thought orspeculation beyond the interests of their daily life, their affectionsand their animosities form the warp and woof of their character. Alltheir feelings are intense, from being concentrated on so few objects. Family relations, particularly with the women, engross the whole amountof their sensibilities. 

The marriage connection is a sacred and indissoluble tie. I have read, in a recent report to the Historical Society of Wisconsin, that, informer times, a temporary marriage between a white man and a Menomoneewoman was no uncommon occurrence, and that such an arrangement broughtno scandal, I am afraid that if such eases were investigated, a gooddeal of deceit and misrepresentation would be found to have been addedto the other sins of the transaction; and that the woman would be foundto have been a victim, instead of a willing participant, in such aconnection. 

At all events, no system of this kind exists among the Winnebagoes. Thestrictest sense of female propriety is a distinguishing trait amongthem. A woman who transgresses it is said to have "forgotten herself, "and is sure to be cast off and "forgotten" by her friends. 

The marriage proposed between the young officer and the daughter ofDay-kau-ray, was understood as intended to be true and lasting. Thefather would not have exposed himself to the contempt of his wholenation by selling his daughter to become the mistress of any man. TheDay-kau-rays, as I have elsewhere said, were not a little proud of aremote cross of French blood which mingled with the aboriginal stream intheir veins, and probably in acceding to the proposed connection thefather of Agathe was as much influenced by what he considered the honorto be derived as by the amount of valuable presents which accompaniedthe overtures made to him. 

Be that as it may, the poor girl was torn from her lover, andtransferred from her father's lodge to the quarters of the youngofficer. 

There were no ladies in the garrison at that time. Had there been, sucha step would hardly have been ventured. Far away in the wilderness, shutout from the salutary influences of religious and social cultivation, what wonder that the moral sense sometimes becomes blinded, and that thechoice is made, "Evil, be thou my good!"

The first step in wrong was followed by one still more aggravated incruelty. The young officer left the post, as he said, on furlough, but_he never returned_. The news came after a time that he was married, andwhen he again joined his regiment it was at another post. 

There was a natural feeling in the strength of the "woe pronouncedagainst him" by more tongues than one. "He will never, " said myinformant, "dare show himself in this country again! Not an Indian whoknows the Day-kau-rays but would take his life if he should meet him!"

Every tie was broken for poor Agathe but that which bound her to herinfant. She never returned to her father's lodge, for she felt that, being deserted, she was dishonored. Her sole ambition seemed to be tobring up her child like those of the whites. She attired it in thecostume of the French children, with a dress of bright calico, and a capof the same, trimmed with narrow black lace. It was a fine child, andthe only time I ever saw a smile cross her face was when it wascommended and caressed by some member of our family. 

Even this, her only source of happiness, poor Agathe was called upon toresign. During our absence at Green Bay, while the Sauks were in theneighborhood, the child was taken violently ill. The house atPaquette's, which was the mother's home, was thronged with Indians, andof course there was much noise and disturbance. My husband had a placeprepared for her under our roof, where she could be more quiet, andreceive the attendance of the post physician. It was all invain--nothing could save the little creature's life. The bitter agony ofthe mother, as she hung over the only treasure she possessed on earth, was described to me as truly heart-rending. When compelled to part withit, it seemed almost more than nature could bear. There were friends, not of her own nation or color, who strove to comfort her. Did thefather ever send a thought or an inquiry after the fate of his child, orof the young being whose life he had rendered dark and desolate? We willhope that he did--that he repented and asked pardon from above for theevil he had wrought. 

Agathe had been baptized by M. Mazzuchelli. Perhaps she may haveacquired some religious knowledge which could bring her consolation inher sorrows, and compensate her for the hopes and joys so early blasted. 

She came, some months after the death of her child, in company withseveral of the half-breed women of the neighborhood, to pay me a visitof respect and congratulation on the advent of the _youngShaw-nee-aw-kee. _ When she looked at her "little brother, " as he wascalled, and took his soft, tiny hand within her own, the tears stood inher eyes, and she spoke some little words of tenderness, which showedthat her heart was full. I could scarcely refrain from mingling my tearswith hers, as I thought on all the sorrow and desolation that one man'sselfishness had occasioned. 

 * * * * *

Early in February, 1833, my husband and Lieutenant Hunter, in companywith one or two others, set off on a journey to Chicago. That place hadbecome so much of a town (it contained perhaps fifty inhabitants) thatit was necessary for the proprietors of "Kinzie's Addition" to lay outlots and open streets through their property. All this was accomplishedduring the visit in question. 

While they were upon the ground with a surveyor, the attention of myhusband was drawn towards a very bright-looking boy in Indian costume, who went hopping along by the side of the assistant that carried thechain, mimicking him as in the course of his operations he cried, "Stick!" "stuck!" He inquired who the lad was, and, to his surprise, learned that he was the brother of the old family servants Victoire, Genevieve, and Baptiste. Tomah, for that was his name, had never beenarrayed in civilized costume; he was in blanket and leggings, and hadalways lived in a wigwam. My husband inquired if he would like to go toFort Winnebago with him and learn to be a white boy. The idea pleasedhim much, and, his mother having given her sanction to the arrangement, he was packed in a wagon, with the two gentlemen and their travellinggear, when they set forth on their return-journey. 

Tomah had been equipped in jacket and trousers, with the other articlesof apparel necessary to his new sphere and character. They were near theAux Plaines, and approaching the residence of Glode (Claude)Laframboise, where Tomah knew he should meet acquaintances. He askedleave to get out of the wagon and walk a little way. When the gentlemennext saw him he was in full Pottowattamie costume: although it wasbitter winter weather, he had put on his uncomfortable native garbrather than show himself to his old friends in a state oftransformation. 

On his arrival at Fort Winnebago, our first care was to furnish himwith a complete wardrobe, which, having been placed in a box in hissleeping-apartment, was put under his charge. Words cannot express hisdelight as the valuable possessions were confided to him. Every sparemoment was devoted to their contemplation. Now and then Tomah would bemissing. He was invariably found seated by the side of his little trunk, folding and refolding his clothes, laying them now lengthwise, nowcrosswise, the happiest of mortals. 

Our next step was to teach him to be useful. Such little offices wereassigned to him at first as might be supposed not altogether new to him, but we soon observed that when there was anything in the shape of work, Tomah slipped off to bed, even if it were before he had taken hissupper. Some fish were given him one evening to scale; it was just atdark; but Tom, according to custom, retired at once to bed. 

The cook came to inquire what was to be done. I was under the necessityof calling in my husband's aid as interpreter. He sent for Tomah. Whenhe came into the parlor Mr. Kinzie said to him, in Pottowattamie, --

"There are some fish, Tomah, in the kitchen, and we want you to scalethem. "

"Now?" exclaimed Tom, with an expression of amazement. "It is verylate. "

A young lady, Miss Rolette, who was visiting us, and who understood thelanguage, could not refrain from bursting into a laugh at the simplicitywith which the words were uttered, and we joined her in sympathy, atwhich Tom looked a little indignant; but when he understood that it wasthe _white custom_ to scale the fish at night, and put salt and pepperon them, he was soon reconciled to do his duty in the matter. 

His next office was to lay the table. There was a best service ofchina, which was only used when we had company, and a best set ofteaspoons, which I kept in the drawer of a bureau in my own roomabove-stairs. I Was in the habit of keeping this drawer locked, andputting the key under a small clock on the mantel-piece. The first timethat I had shown Tomah how to arrange matters for visitors, I hadbrought the silver and put it on the table myself. 

Soon after, we were to have company to tea again, and I explained toTomah that the best china must be used. What was my surprise, on goingthrough the dining-room a short time after, to see not only the newchina, but the "company silver" also, on the table! I requested ourmother, who could speak with him, to inquire into the matter. 

Tomah said, very coolly, "He got the silver where it was kept. "

"Did he find the drawer open?"

"No--he opened it with a key. "

"Was the key in the drawer?"

"No--it was under that thing on the shelf. "

"How did he know it was kept there?"

This was what Mr. Tomah declined telling. We could never ascertainwhether he had watched my movements at any time. No one had ever seenhim in that part of the house, and yet scarcely an article could bementioned of which Tomah did not know the whereabouts. If any one waspuzzled to find a thing, it was always, --

"Ask Tomah--he will tell you. " And so in fact he did. 

He was a subject of much amusement to the young officers. We were tohave a tea-party one evening--all the families and young officers fromthe Fort. To make Tomah's appearance as professional as possible, wemade him a white apron with long sleeves to put on while he was helpingMary and Josette to carry round tea--for I must acknowledge that Tomah'sclothes were not kept in as nice order out of the trunk as in it. 

Tom was delighted with his new costume, as well as with the newemployment. He acquitted himself to perfection, for he had never anydifficulty in imitating what he saw another do. After tea we had somemusic. As I was standing by the piano, at which one of the ladies wasseated, Lieutenant Vancleve said to me, in a low tone, --

"Look behind you a moment. "

I turned. There sat Tom between two of the company, as stately aspossible, with his white apron smoothed down, and his hands claspedbefore him, listening to the music, and on the best possible terms withhimself and all around him. Julian and Edwin were hardly able torestrain their merriment, but they were afraid to do or say anythingthat would cause him to move before the company had had a full enjoymentof the scene. It was voted unanimously that Tomah should be permitted toremain and enjoy the pleasures of society for one evening; but, withcharacteristic restlessness, he got tired as soon as the music was over, and unceremoniously took his leave of the company. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

What we had long anticipated of the sufferings of the Indians began tomanifest itself as the spring drew on. Its extent was first brought toour knowledge by those who came in little parties begging for food. 

As long as it was possible to issue occasional rations their Fathercontinued to do so, but the supplies in the Commissary Department werenow so much reduced that Colonel Cutler did not feel justified inauthorizing anything beyond a scanty relief, and this only in extremecases. 

We had ourselves throughout the winter used the greatest economy withour own stores, that we might not exhaust our slender stock of flour andmeal before it could be replenished from "below. " We had even purchasedsome sour flour which had been condemned by the commissary, and hadcontrived, by a plentiful use of saleratus and a due proportion ofpotatoes, to make of it a very palatable kind of bread. But as we hadcontinued to give to party after party, when they would come to us torepresent their famishing condition, the time at length arrived when wehad nothing to give. 

The half-breed families of the neighborhood, who had, like ourselves, continued to share with the needy as long as their own stock lasted, were now obliged, of necessity, to refuse further assistance. Thesewomen often came to lament with us over the sad accounts that werebrought from the wintering grounds. It had been a very open winter. Thesnow had scarcely been enough at any time to permit the Indians to trackthe deer; in fact, all the game had been driven off by the troops andwar-parties scouring the country through the preceding summer. 

We heard of their dying by companies from mere inanition, and lyingstretched in the road to the Portage, whither they were striving to dragtheir exhausted frames. Soup made of the bark of the slippery elm, orstewed acorns, were the only food that many had subsisted on for weeks. 

We had for a long time received our own food by daily rations from thegarrison, for things had got to such a pass that there was nopossibility of obtaining a barrel of flour at a time. After our mealswere finished I always went into the pantry, and collecting carefullyevery remaining particle of food set it aside, to be given to some ofthe wretched applicants by whom we were constantly thronged. 

One day as I was thus employed, a face appeared at the window with whichI had once been familiar. It was the pretty daughter of the elderDay-kau-ray. She had formerly visited us often, watching with greatinterest our employments--our sewing, our weeding and cultivating thegarden, or our reading. Of the latter, I had many times endeavored togive her some idea, showing her the plates in the Family Bible, anddoing my best to explain them to her, but of late I had quite lost sightof her. Now, how changed, how wan she looked! As I addressed her with myordinary phrase, "_Tshah-ko-zhah_?" (What is it?) she gave a sigh thatwas almost a sob. She did not beg, but her countenance spoke volumes. 

I took my dish and handed it to her, expecting to see her devour thecontents eagerly; but no--she took it, and, making signs that she wouldsoon return, walked away. When she brought it back, I was almost sureshe had not tasted a morsel herself. 

 * * * * *

Oh! the boats--the boats with the corn! Why did they not come? We bothwrote and sent to hasten them, but, alas! everything and everybody movedso slowly in those unenterprising times! We could only feel sure thatthey would come when they were ready, and not a moment before. 

We were soon obliged to keep both doors and windows fast, to shut outthe sight of misery we could not relieve. If a door were opened for theadmission of a member of the family, some wretched mother would rush in, grasp the hand of my infant, and, placing that of her famishing childwithin it, tell us, pleadingly, that he was imploring "his littlebrother" for food. The stoutest man could not have beheld with dry eyesthe heart-rending spectacle which often presented itself. It was in vainthat we screened the lower portion of our windows with curtains. Theywould climb up on the outside, and tier upon tier of gaunt, wretchedfaces would peer in above, to watch us, and see if indeed we were as illprovided as we represented ourselves. 

The noble old Day-kau-ray came one day, from the Barribault, to appriseus of the state of his village. More than forty of his people, he said, had now been for many days without food, save bark and roots. My husbandaccompanied him to the commanding officer to tell his story andascertain if any amount of food could be obtained from that quarter. Theresult was, the promise of a small allowance of flour, sufficient toalleviate the cravings of his own family. 

When this was explained to the chief, he turned away. "No, " he said, "if his people could not be relieved, he and his family would starvewith them!" And he refused, for those nearest and dearest to him, theproffered succor, until all could share alike. 

The announcement, at length, that "the boats were in sight, " was athrilling and most joyful sound. 

Hundreds of poor creatures were assembled on the bank, watching theirarrival. Oh! how torturing was their slow approach, by the windingcourse of the river, through the extended prairie! As the first boattouched the land, we, who were gazing on the scene with anxiety andimpatience only equalled by that of the sufferers, could scarcelyrefrain from laughing, to see old Wild-Cat, who had somewhat fallen offin his huge amount of flesh, seize "the Washington Woman" in his armsand hug and dance with her in the ecstasy of his delight. 

Their Father made a sign to them all to fall to work with theirhatchets, which they had long held ready, and in an incredibly shorttime barrel after barrel of corn was broken open and emptied, while eventhe little children possessed themselves of pans and kettles full, andhastened to the fires that were blazing around to parch and cook thatwhich they had seized. 

From this time forward, there was no more destitution. The presentabundance was immediately followed by the arrival of supplies for theCommissary's Department; and, refreshed and invigorated, our poorchildren departed once more to their villages, to make ready their cropsfor the ensuing season. 

In the course of the spring, we received a visit from the Rev. Mr. Kentand Mrs. Kent, of Galena. This event is memorable, as being the firstoccasion on which the gospel, according to the Protestant faith, waspreached at Fort Winnebago. The large parlor of the hospital was fittedup for the service, and gladly did we each say to the other, "Let us goto the house of the Lord!"

For nearly three years had we lived here without the blessing of apublic service of praise and thanksgiving. We regarded this commencementas an omen of better times, and our little "sewing-society" worked withrenewed industry, to raise a fund Which might be available hereafter insecuring the permanent services of a missionary. 

 * * * * *

Not long after this, on a fine spring morning, as we were seated atbreakfast, a party of Indians entered the parlor, and came to the doorof the room where we were. Two of them passed through, and went out upona small portico--the third remained standing in the door-way at which hehad at first appeared. He was nearly opposite me, and as I raised myeyes, spite of his change of dress, and the paint with which he wascovered, I at once recognized him. 

I continued to pour the coffee, and, as I did so, I remarked to myhusband, "The one behind you, with whom you are speaking, is one of theescaped prisoners. "

Without turning his head, Mr. Kinzie continued to listen to all thedirections they were giving him about the repairing of their guns, traps, etc. , which they wished to leave with the blacksmith. As theywent on, he carelessly turned towards the parlor door, and replied tothe one speaking to him. When he again addressed me, it was to say, --

"You are right, but it is no affair of ours. We are none of us to lookso as to give him notice that we suspect anything. They are undoubtedlyinnocent, and have suffered enough already. "

Contrary to his usual custom, their Father did not ask their names, butwrote their directions, which he tied to their different implements, andthen bade them go and deliver them themselves to M. Morrin. 

The rest of our circle were greatly pleased at the young fellow'saudacity, and we quite longed to tell the officers that we could havecaught one of their fugitives for them, if we had had a mind. 

 * * * * *

The time had now come when we began to think seriously of leaving ourpleasant home, and taking up our residence at Detroit, while makingarrangements for a permanent settlement at Chicago. 

This intelligence, when communicated to our Winnebago children, broughtforth great lamentations and demonstrations of regret. From thesurrounding country they came flocking in, to inquire into the truth ofthe tidings they had heard, and to petition earnestly that we wouldcontinue to live and die among them. 

Among them all, no one seemed so overwhelmed with affliction asElizabeth, our poor _Cut-Nose_. When we first told her of our intention, she sat for hours in the same spot, wiping away the tears that wouldfind their way down her cheeks, with the corner of the chintz shawl shewore pinned across her bosom. 

"No! I never, never, never shall I find such friends again, " she wouldexclaim. "You will go away, and I shall be left here _all alone_. "

Wild-Cat, too, the fat, jolly Wild-Cat, gave way to the most audiblelamentations. 

"Oh, my little brother, " he said to the baby, on the morning of ourdeparture, when he had insisted on taking him and seating him on hisfat, dirty knee, "you will never come back to see your poor brotheragain!"

And having taken an extra glass on the occasion, he wept like an infant. 

It was with sad hearts that on the morning of the 1st of July, 1888, webade adieu to the long cortége which followed us to the boat, nowwaiting to convey us to Green Bay, where we were to meet Governor Porterand Mr. Brush, and proceed, under their escort, to Detroit. 

When they had completed their tender farewells, they turned to accompanytheir father across the Portage, on his route to Chicago, and longafter, we could see them winding along the road, and hear their loudlamentations at a parting which they foresaw would be forever. 

APPENDIX. 

I. 

As I have given throughout the Narrative of the Sauk War the impressionswe received from our own observation, or from information furnished usat the time, I think it but justice to Black Hawk and his party toinsert, by way of Appendix, the following account, preserved among themanuscript records of the late Thomas Forsyth, Esq. , of St. Louis, who, after residing among the Indians many years as a trader, was, until theyear 1830, the Agent of the Sauks and Foxes. The manuscript was writtenin 1832, while Black Hawk and his compatriots were in prison atJefferson Barracks. 

"The United States troops under the command of Major Stoddard arrivedhere[58] and took possession of this country in the month of February, 1804. In the spring of that year, a white person (a man or boy) waskilled in Cuivre Settlement, by a Sauk Indian Some time in the summerfollowing, a party of United States troops were sent up to the Saukvillage on Rocky Biver, and a demand made of the Sauk chiefs for themurderer. The Sauk chiefs did not hesitate a moment, but delivered himup to the commander of the troops, who brought him down and deliveredhim over to the civil authority in this place (St. Louis). 

"Some time in the ensuing autumn some Sauk and Fox Indians came to thisplace, and had a conversation with General Harrison (then Governor ofIndiana Territory, and acting Governor of this State, then Territory ofLouisiana) on the subject of liberating their relative, then in prisonat this place for the above-mentioned murder. 

"Quash-quame, a Sauk chief, who was the head man of this party, hasrepeatedly said, 'Mr. Pierre Chouteau, Sen. , came several times to mycamp, offering that if I would sell the lands on the east side of theMississippi River, Governor Harrison would liberate my relation (meaningthe Sauk Indian then in prison as above related), to which I at lastagreed, and sold the lands from the mouth of the Illinois River up theMississippi River as high as the mouth of Rocky River (now Rock River), and east to the ridge that divides the waters of the Mississippi andIllinois Rivers; but I never sold any more lands. ' Quash-quame also saidto Governor Edwards, Governor Clarke, and Mr. Auguste Chouteau, Commissioners appointed to treat with the Chippewas, Ottawas, andPottowattamies of Illinois River, in the summer of 1816, for lands onthe west side of Illinois River, --

"'You white men may put on paper what you please, but again I tell you, I never sold any lands higher up the Mississippi than the mouth of RockyRiver. '

"In the treaty first mentioned, the line commences opposite to the mouthof Gasconade River, and running in a direct line to the head-waters ofJefferson[59] River, thence down that river to the MississippiRiver--thence up the Mississippi River to the mouth of the OuisconsinRiver--thence up that river thirty-six miles--thence in a direct line toa little lake in Fox River of Illinois, down Fox River to IllinoisRiver, down Illinois River to its mouth--thence down the MississippiRiver to the mouth of Missouri River--thence up that river to the placeof beginning. See treaty dated at St. Louis, 4th November, 1804. 

"The Sauk and Fox nations were never consulted, nor had any hand in thistreaty, nor knew anything about it. It was made and signed by two Saukchiefs, one Fox chief and one warrior. 

"When the annuities were delivered to the Sauk and Fox nations ofIndians, according to the treaty above referred to (amounting to $1000per annum), the Indians always thought they were presents (as theannuity for the first twenty years was always paid in goods, sent onfrom Georgetown, District of Columbia, and poor articles of merchandisethey were, very often damaged and not suitable for Indians), until I, astheir Agent, convinced them of the contrary, in the summer of 1818. Whenthe Indians heard that the goods delivered to them were annuities forland sold by them to the United States, they were astonished, andrefused to accept of the goods, denying that they ever sold the lands asstated by me, their Agent. The Black Hawk in particular, who was presentat the time, made a great noise about this land, and would never receiveany part of the annuities from that time forward. He always denied theauthority of Quash-quame and others to sell any part of their lands, andtold the Indians not to receive any presents or annuities from anyAmerican--otherwise their lands would be claimed at some future day. 

"As the United States do insist, and retain the lands according to thetreaty of November 4, 1804, why do they not fulfil _their_ part of thattreaty as equity demands?

"The Sauk and Fox nations are allowed, according to that treaty, 'tolive and hunt on the lands so ceded, as long as the aforesaid landsbelong to the United States. ' In the spring of the year 1827, abouttwelve or fifteen families of squatters arrived and took possession ofthe Sauk village, near the mouth of the Rocky River. They immediatelycommenced destroying the Indians' bark boats. Some were burned, otherswere torn to pieces, and when the Indians arrived at the village, andfound fault with the destruction of their property, they were beaten andabused by the squatters. 

"The Indians made complaint to me, as their Agent. I wrote to GeneralClarke, [60] stating to him from time to time what happened, and giving aminute detail of everything that passed between the whites (squatters)and the Indians. 

"The squatters insisted that the Indians should be removed from theirvillage, saying that as soon as the land was brought into market they(the squatters) would buy it all. It became needless for me to show themthe treaty, and the right the Indians had to remain on their lands. Theytried every method to annoy the Indians, by shooting their dogs, claiming their horses, complaining that the Indians' horses broke intotheir corn-fields--selling them whiskey for the most trifling articles, contrary to the wishes and request of the chiefs, particularly the BlackHawk, who both solicited and threatened them on the subject, but all tono purpose. 

"The President directed those lands to be sold at the Land Office, inSpringfield, Illinois. Accordingly, when the time came that they were tobe offered for sale (in the autumn of 1828), there were about twentyfamilies of squatters at, and in the vicinity of, the old Sauk village, most of whom attended the sale, and but one of them could purchase aquarter-section (if we except George Davenport, a trader who resides inRocky Island). Therefore, all the land not sold, still belonged to theUnited States, and the Indians had still a right, by treaty, to hunt andlive on those lands. This right, however, was not allowed them--theymust move off. 

"In 1830, the principal chiefs, and others of the Sauk and Fox Indianswho resided at the old village, near Rocky River, acquainted me thatthey would remove to their village on Ihoway River. These chiefs advisedme to write to General Clarke, Superintendent of Indian Affairs at thisplace (St. Louis), to send up a few militia--that the Black Hawk and hisfollowers would then see that everything was in earnest, and they wouldremove to the west side of the Mississippi, to their own lands. 

"The letter, as requested by the chiefs, was written and sent by me toGeneral Clarke, but he did not think proper to answer it--thereforeeverything remained as formerly, and, as a matter of course, the BlackHawk and his party thought the whole matter of removing from the oldvillage had blown over. 

"In the spring of 1831, the Black Hawk and his party were augmented bymany Indians from Ihoway River. This augmentation of forces made theBlack Hawk very proud, and he supposed nothing would be done aboutremoving him and his party. 

"General Gaines visited the Black Hawk and his party this season, with aforce of regulars and militia, and compelled them to remove to the westside of the Mississippi River, on their own lands. 

"When the Black Hawk and party recrossed to the east side of theMississippi River in 1832, they numbered three hundred and sixty-eightmen. They were hampered with many women and children, and had nointention to make war. When attacked by General Stillman's detachment, they defended themselves like men; and I would ask, who would not doso, likewise? Thus the war commenced. 

 * * * * *

"The Indians had been defeated, dispersed, and some of the principalchiefs are now in prison and in chains, at Jefferson Barracks. .. . 

"It is very well known, by all who know the Black Hawk, that he hasalways been considered a friend to the whites. Often has he taken intohis lodge the wearied white man, given him good food to eat, and a goodblanket to sleep on before the fire. Many a good meal has _the Prophet_given to people travelling past his village, and very many stray horseshas he recovered from the Indians and restored to their rightful owners, without asking any recompense whatever. .. . 

"What right have we to tell any people, 'You shall not cross theMississippi River on any pretext whatever'? When the Sauk and FoxIndians wish to cross the Mississippi, to visit their relations amongthe Pottowattamies of Fox River, Illinois, they are prevented by us, _because we have the power_!"

I omit the old gentleman's occasional comments upon the powers thatdictated, and the forces which carried on, the warfare of this unhappysummer. There is every reason to believe that had his suggestions beenlistened to, and had he continued the Agent of the Sauks and Foxes, asad record might have been spared, --we should assuredly not have beencalled to chronicle the untimely fate of his successor, the unfortunateM. St. Vrain, who, a comparative stranger to his people, was murdered bythem, in their exasperated fury, at Kellogg's Grove, soon after thecommencement of the campaign. 

II. 

It seems appropriate to notice in this place the subsequent appearancebefore the public of one of the personages casually mentioned in theforegoing narrative. 

In the autumn of 1864 we saw advertised for exhibition at Wood's Museum, Chicago, "The most remarkable instance of longevity on record--thevenerable Joseph Crély, born on the 13th of September, 1726, and havingconsequently reached, at this date, the age of ONE HUNDRED ANDTHIRTY-NINE YEARS!" Sundry particulars followed of his life and history, and, above all, of his recollections. 

"Well done for old Crély!" said my husband, when he had gone through thelong array. "Come, let us go over to Wood's Museum and renew ouracquaintance with the venerable gentleman. "

I did not need a second invitation, for I was curious to witness thewonders which the whirligig of time had wrought with our old _employé_. 

We chose an early hour for our visit, that we might pay our respects toboth him and the granddaughter who had him in charge, unembarrassed bythe presence of strangers. 

In a large room on the second floor of the building, among cages ofbirds and animals, some stuffed, others still living, we perceived, seated by a window, a figure clad in bright cashmere dressing-gown andgay tasselled cap, tranquilly smoking a tah-nee-hoo-rah, or long Indianpipe. His form was upright, his face florid, and less changed than mighthave been expected by the thirty-one years that had elapsed since we hadlast seen him. He was alone, and my husband addressed him at first inEnglish:--

"Good-morning, M. Crély. Do you remember me?"

He shook his head emphatically. "Je ne comprends pas. Je ne meressouviens de rien--je suis vieux, vieux--le treize Septembre, mil septcent vingt-six, je suis né. Non, non, " with a few gentle shakes of thehead, "je ne puis rappeler rien--je suis vieux, vieux. "[61]

My husband changed his inquiries to the patois which Crély could notfeign not to comprehend. 

"Where is your granddaughter? I am acquainted with her, and would liketo speak with her. "

The old man sprang up with the greatest alacrity, and, running to a doorin the wooden partition which cut off a corner of the room and thusfurnished an apartment for the ancient phenomenon, he rapped vigorously, and called, in accents quite unlike his former feeble, drawling tones, --

"Thérèse, Thérèse--il y a icite un monsieur qui voudrait vous voir. "[62]

The granddaughter presently made her appearance. She looked shyly at myhusband from under her brows. 

"Do you know me, Thérèse?" he asked. 

"Yes, sir. It is Mr. Kinzie. "

"And do you know me also?" I said, approaching. She looked at me andshook her head. 

"No, I do not, " she replied. 

"What, Thérèse! Have you forgotten Madame John, who taught you toread--you and all the little girls at the Portage?"

"Oh, my heavens, Mrs. Kinzie!--but you have changed so!"

"Yes, Thérèse, I have grown old in all these years; but I have not grownold quite so fast as your grandpapa here. "

There was a flash in her eye that told she felt my meaning. She hungher head without speaking, while the color deepened over hercountenance. 

"Now, " said I, in French, to the grandfather, "you remember me--"

He interrupted me with a protest, "Non, non--je ne puis rappelerrien--je suis vieux, vieux--le treize Septembre, mil sept centvingt-six, je suis né à Detroit. "

"And you recollect, " I went on, not heeding his formula, "how I came tothe Portage a bride, and lived in the old cabins that the soldiers hadoccupied--"

"Eh b'an! oui--oui--"

"And how you helped make the garden for me--and how Plante and Manaigrefinished the new house so nicely while Monsieur John was away for thesilver--and how there was a feast after it was completed--"

"Ah! oui, oui--pour le sûr. "

"And where are all our people now?" I asked, turning to Thérèse. "LouisFrum _dit_ Manaigre--is he living?"

"Oh, Madame Kinzie! You remember that--Manaigre having two names?"

"Yes, Thérèse--I remember everything connected with those old times atthe Portage. Who among our people there are living?"

"Only Manaigre is left, " she said. 

"Mais, mais, Thérèse, " interposed the old man, "Manaigre's daughterGeneviève is living. " It was a comfort to find our visit of suchmiraculous benefit to his memory. 

"And the Puans--are any of them left?" I asked. 

"Not more than ten or twelve, I think--" Again her grandfather promptlycontradicted her:--

"Mais, mais, je compte b'an qu'il y en a quinze ou seize, Thérèse;" andhe went quite glibly over the names of such of his red friends as stillhovered around their old home in that vicinity. 

He was in the full tide of gay reminiscence, touching upon experiencesand adventures of long ago, and recalling Indian and half-breedacquaintances of former days, when footsteps approached, and theentrance of eager, curious visitors suddenly reminded him of hisappointed rôle. It was marvellous how instantaneously he subsided intothe superannuated driveller who was to bear away the bell from Old Parrand all the Emperor Alexander's far-sought fossils. 

"Je suis vieux, vieux--l'an mil sept cent vingt-six--le treizeSeptembre, à Detroit--- je ne puis rappeler rien. "

Not another phrase could "all the King's armies, or all the King's men, "have extorted from him. 

So we left him to the admiring comments of the new-comers. I think itshould be added, in extenuation of what would otherwise seem a grossimposture, that his granddaughter was really ignorant of Crély's exactage--that he, being ever a gasconading fellow, was quite ready topersonate that certain Joseph Crély whose name appears on the baptismalrecords of the Church in Detroit of the year 1726. He was, moreover, pleased with the idea of being gaily dressed and going on a tour to seethe world, and doubtless rejoiced, also, in the prospect of relievinghis poor granddaughter of a part of the burden of his maintenance. Hewas probably at this time about ninety-five years of age. There arethose that knew him from 1830, who maintain that his age was a few yearsless; but I take the estimate of Mr. Kinzie and H. L. Dousman, of Prairiedu Chien, who set him down, in 1864, at about the age I have assigned tohim. 

THE END. 

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: Corn which has been parboiled, shelled from the cob, anddried in the sun. ]

[Footnote 2: Literally, _crazy oats_. It is the French name for theMenomonees. ]

[Footnote 3: _Le Forgeron_, or Blacksmith, a Menomonee chief. ]

[Footnote 4: A niece of James Fenimore Cooper. ]

[Footnote 5: Master--or, to use the emphatic Yankee term, _boss_. ]

[Footnote 6: Michaud climbed into a plum-tree, to gather plums. Thebranch broke. _Michaud fell_! Where is he? _He is down on the ground_. No, he is up in the tree. ]

[Footnote 7: The supposed Dauphin of France. ]

[Footnote 8: The site of the town of Nee-nah. ]

[Footnote 9: The bark of the red willow, scraped fine, which ispreferred by the Indians to tobacco. ]

[Footnote 10: General Cass was then Governor of Michigan, andSuperintendent of the Northwestern Indians. ]

[Footnote 11: In the year 1714. ]

[Footnote 12: Father! How do you do?]

[Footnote 13: Only look! what inventions! what wonders!]

[Footnote 14: Between two of these lakes is now situated the town ofMadison--the capital of the State of Wisconsin. ]

[Footnote 15: I speak, it will be understood, of things as they existeda quarter of a century ago. ]

[Footnote 16: It was at this spot that the unfortunate St. Vrain losthis life, during the Sauk war, in 1832. ]

[Footnote 17: Probably at what is now Oswego. The name of a portion ofthe wood is since corrupted into _Specie's Grove_. ]

[Footnote 18: The honey-bee is not known in the perfectly wild countriesof North America. It is ever the pioneer of civilization, and theIndians call it "_the white man's bird_. "]

[Footnote 19: It was near this spot that the brother of Mr. Hawley, aMethodist preacher, was killed by the Sauks, in 1832, after having beentortured by them with the most wanton barbarity. ]

[Footnote 20: Rivière Aux Plaines was the original French designation, now changed to _Desplaines_, pronounced as in English. ]

[Footnote 21: 1855. ]

[Footnote 22: See Frontispiece. ]

[Footnote 23: Since called N. State Street (1870). ]

[Footnote 24: I can recall a petition that was circulated at thegarrison about this period, for "building a brigg over Michigan City. "By altering the orthography, it was found to mean, not the stupendousundertaking it would seem to imply, but simply "building a bridge" over_at_ Michigan City, --an accommodation much needed by travellers at thatday. ]

[Footnote 25: The proper orthography of this word is undoubtedly_slough_, as it invariably indicates something like that which Christianfell into in flying from the City of Destruction. I spell it, however, as it is pronounced. ]

[Footnote 26: A gentleman who visited Chicago at that day, thus speaksof it: "I passed over the ground from the fort to the Point, onhorseback. I was up to my stirrups in water the whole distance. I wouldnot have given sixpence an acre for the whole of it. "]

[Footnote 27: See Narrative of the Massacre, p. 159. ]

[Footnote 28: Mr. Cat. ]

[Footnote 29: This Narrative, first published in pamphlet form in 1836, was transferred, with little variation, to Brown's "History ofIllinois, " and to a work called "Western Annals. " It was likewise made, by Major Richardson, the basis of his two tales, "Hardscrabble, " and"Wau-nan-gee. "]

[Footnote 30: Burns's house stood near the spot where the AgencyBuilding, or "Cobweb Castle, " was afterwards erected, at the foot of N. State Street. ]

[Footnote 31: This is done by cutting the meat in thin slices, placingit upon a scaffold, and making a fire under it, which dries it andsmokes it at the same time. ]

[Footnote 32: A trading-establishment--now Ypsilanti. ]

[Footnote 33: Captain Wells, when a boy, was stolen, by the MiamiIndians, from the family of Hon. Nathaniel Pope, in Kentucky. Althoughrecovered by them, he preferred to return and live among his newfriends. He married a Miami woman, and became a chief of the nation. Hewas the father of the late Mrs. Judge Wolcott, of Maumee, Ohio. ]

[Footnote 34: The spot now called Bertrand, then known as _Parc auxVaches, _ from its having been a favorite "stamping-ground" of thebuffalo which then abounded in the country. ]

[Footnote 35: The exact spot of this encounter was about where 21stStreet crosses Indiana Avenue. ]

[Footnote 36: Along the present State Street. ]

[Footnote 37: Mrs. Holt is believed to be still living, in the State ofOhio. ]

[Footnote 38: Billy Caldwell was a half-breed, and a chief of thenation. In his reply, "_I am a Sau-ga-nash_, " or Englishman, he designedto convey, "I am a _white_ man. " Had he said, "_I am a Pottowattamie_, "it would have been interpreted to mean, "I belong to my nation, and amprepared to go all lengths with them. "]

[Footnote 39: Frenchman. ]

[Footnote 40: The Pottowattamie chief, so well known to many of thecitizens of Chicago, now (1870) residing at the Aux Plaines. ]

[Footnote 41: Twenty-two years after this, as I was on a journey toChicago in the steamer Uncle Sam, a young woman, hearing my name, introduced herself to me, and, raising the hair from her forehead, showed me the mark of the tomahawk which had so nearly been fatal toher. ]

[Footnote 42: Although this is the name our mother preserved of herbenefactor, it seems evident that this chief was in fact _Corn-Planter_, a personage well known in the history of the times. There could hardlyhave been two such prominent chiefs in the same village. ]

[Footnote 43: From the French--_Tranche_, a deep cut. ]

[Footnote 44: It is a singular fact that all the martins, of which therewere great numbers occupying the little houses constructed for them bythe soldiers, were observed to have disappeared from their homes on themorning following the embarkation of the troops. After an absence offive days they returned. They had perhaps taken a fancy to accompanytheir old friends, but, finding they were not Mother Carey's chickens, deemed it most prudent to return and reoccupy their old dwellings. ]

[Footnote 45: It is now known as Dunkley's Grove. ]

[Footnote 46: How the woods talk!]

[Footnote 47: It will be remembered that these were the arguments usedat a period when the Indians possessed most of the broad lands on theUpper Mississippi and its tributaries--when they were still allowed someshare of the blessings of life. ]

[Footnote 48: The Indians, in relating a story like this, apologize foralluding to a revolting subject. "You will think this _unpleasant_, "they say. ]

[Footnote 49: Come in, my daughter. ]

[Footnote 50: The Indians sing these words to an air peculiar tothemselves. ]

[Footnote 51: Three streams or water courses of that region. ]

[Footnote 52: See Appendix. ]

[Footnote 53: As "the venerable Joseph Crély" has become historic fromhis claim to have reached the age of one hundred and thirty-nine years, I will state that at this period (1832) he was a hale, hearty man ofsixty years or less. ]

[Footnote 54: The Indians who had "been at Washington" were very fond ofcalling their Father thus. Black Wolf's son would go further, andvociferate "K'hizzie, " to show his familiarity. ]

[Footnote 55: Fisher's Hornpipe. ]

[Footnote 56: General Atkinson. ]

[Footnote 57: A belt of land termed the Neutral Ground of the differentopposing nations. ]

[Footnote 58: St. Louis, Mo. ]

[Footnote 59: There is no such river in this country, therefore thistreaty is null and void--of no effect in law or equity. Such was theopinion of the late Governor Howard. (T. F. )]

[Footnote 60: Superintendent of Indian Affairs at St. Louis. ]

[Footnote 61: I do not understand. I remember nothing. I am very, veryold--the thirteenth of September, 1726, I was born. No, no--I canrecollect nothing. I am old, old. ]

[Footnote 62: Thérèse, there is a gentleman here who wishes to see you. ]