do."

There were two canoes tied near the bank, and the soldier walked leisurely towards them. Some of the Indians inquired where he was going. He pointed to the cattle standing among the haystacks on the opposite bank, making signs that they must go and fodder them, and that they would then return and get their supper.

As the afternoon was far advanced, this explanation was accepted without question.

The soldier got into one canoe, and the boy into the other. The stream was narrow, and they were soon across. Having gained the opposite side, they pulled some hay for the cattle, made a show of herding them, and when they had gradually made a circuit, so that their movements were concealed by the haystacks, took to the woods, close at hand, and then started for the fort.

They had run about a quarter of a mile when they heard two guns discharged in succession. These guns they supposed to have been leveled at the companions they had left.

They ran without stopping until they arrived opposite Burns',[2] where, as before related, they called across to warn the family of their danger, and then hastened on to the fort.

It now occurred to those who had secured their own safety that the Burns family was still exposed to imminent peril. The question was, who would hazard his life to bring them to a place of security? The gallant young officer, Ensign Ronan, with a party of five or six soldiers, volunteered to go to their rescue.

They ascended the river in a scow, took the mother, with her infant, scarcely a day old, upon her bed to the boat, and carefully conveyed her with the other members of the family to the fort.

The same afternoon a party of soldiers, consisting of a corporal and six men, had obtained leave to go fishing up the river. They had not returned when the fugitives from Lee's Place arrived at the fort. It was now night and, fearing they might encounter the Indians, the commanding officer ordered a cannon fired, warning them of their danger.

It will be remembered that the unsettled state of the country after the battle of Tippecanoe, the preceding November, had rendered every man vigilant, and the slightest alarm was an admonition to "beware of the Indians."

At the time the cannon was fired the fishing party were about two miles above Lee's Place. Hearing the signal, they put out their torches and dropped down the river towards the garrison, as silently as possible.

When they reached Lee's Place, it was proposed to stop and warn the inmates to be on their guard, as the signal from the fort indicated some kind of danger. All was still as death around the house. The soldiers groped their way along, and as the corporal jumped over the small inclosure he placed his hand upon the dead body of a man. He soon ascertained that the head was without a scalp, and otherwise mutilated. The faithful dog of the murdered man stood guarding the lifeless remains of his master.

The tale was told. The men retreated to their canoes, and reached the fort unmolested about eleven o'clock at night.

The next morning a party of citizens and soldiers volunteered to go to Lee's Place to learn further the fate of its occupants. The body of Mr. White was found pierced by two balls, with eleven stabs in the breast. The Frenchman also lay dead, his dog still beside him. The bodies were brought to the fort and buried in its immediate vicinity.

Later it was learned from traders out in the Indian country that the perpetrators of the deed were a party of Winnebago who had come into the neighborhood to "take some white scalps." Their plan had been to proceed down the river from Lee's Place and kill every white man outside the walls of the fort. However, hearing the report of the cannon, and not knowing what it portended, they thought it best to retreat to their homes on Rock River.

The settlers outside the fort, a few discharged soldiers and some families of half-breeds, now intrenched themselves in the Agency House. This building stood west of the fort, between the pickets and the river, and distant about twenty rods from the former.

It was an old-fashioned log house, with a hall running through the center, and one large room on each side. Piazzas extended the whole length of the building, in front and rear. These were now planked up, for greater security; portholes were cut, and sentinels posted at night.

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

One night a sergeant and a private, who were out on patrol, came suddenly 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 missed the sergeant and struck a wagon standing near. The sentinel from the blockhouse immediately fired while the men got safely in. The next morning traces of blood were found for a considerable distance into the prairie, and from this and the appearance of the long grass, where it was evident a body had lain, it was certain some execution had been done.

On another occasion Indians entered the esplanade to steal horses. Not finding any in the stable, as they had expected to, they relieved their disappointment by stabbing all the sheep in the stable and then letting them loose. The poor animals flocked towards the fort. This gave the alarm. The garrison was aroused, and parties were sent out; but the marauders escaped unmolested. The inmates of the fort experienced no further alarm for many weeks.

On the afternoon of August 7, Winnemeg, or Catfish, a Potowatomi chief, arrived at the post, bringing dispatches from General Hull. These announced that war had been declared between the United States and Great Britain, and that General Hull, at the head of the Northwestern army, had arrived at Detroit; also, that the Island of Mackinac 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 property contained in the fort, and in the United States factory or agency, among the Indians in the neighborhood."

After having delivered his dispatches, Winnemeg requested a private interview with Mr. Kinzie, who had taken up his residence in the fort. He told Mr. Kinzie he was acquainted with the purport of the communications he had brought, and begged him to ascertain if it were the intention of Captain Heald to evacuate the post. He advised strongly against such a step, inasmuch as the garrison was well supplied with ammunition, and with provisions for six months. It would, therefore, be far better, he thought, to remain until reinforcements could be sent. If, however, Captain Heald should decide to leave the post, it should by all means be done immediately. The Potowatomi, through whose country they must pass, being ignorant of the object of Winnemeg's mission, a forced march might be made before the hostile Indians were prepared to interrupt them.

Of this advice, so earnestly given, Captain Heald was immediately informed. He replied that it was his intention to evacuate the post, but that, inasmuch as he had received orders to distribute the United States property, he should not feel justified in