XI

  _CLARK GUARDS THE FRONTIER_

  The Indian hunt was over; they were done making their sugar; the womenwere planting corn. The warriors hid in the thick foliage of the riverborders, preparing for war.

  "Madison has declared war against England!"

  The news was hailed with delight. Now would end this frightfulsuspense. In Illinois alone, fifteen hundred savages under foreignmachinations held in terror forty thousand white people,--officers andsoldiers of George Rogers Clark and others who had settled on theundefended prairies.

  "Detroit has fallen!"

  "Mackinac is gone!"

  "The savages have massacred the garrison at Fort Dearborn!"

  "They are planning to attack the settlements on the Mississippi. Ifthe Sioux join the confederacy--" cheeks paled at the possibility.

  The greatest body of Indians in America resided on the Mississippi.Who could say at what hour the waters would resound with their whoops?Thousands of them could reach St. Louis or Cahokia from their homes infive or six days. Immense quantities of British gifts were coming fromthe Lakes to the Indians at Peoria, Rock Island, Des Moines.

  "Yes, we shall attack when the corn is ripe," said the Indians at FortMadison.

  "Unless I hear shortly of more assistance than a few rangers I shallbury my papers in the ground, send my family off, and fight as long aspossible," said Edwards, the Governor of Illinois.

  In Missouri, surrounded by Pottawattamies, champion horsethieves ofthe frontier, and warlike Foxes, Iowas, and Kickapoos, the settlersploughed their fields with sentinels on guard. Horns hung at theirbelts to blow as a signal of danger. In the quiet hour by thefireside, an Indian would steal into the postern gate and shoot thefather at the hearth, the mother at her evening task.

  Presently the settlers withdrew into the forts, unable to raise crops.With corn in the cabin loft, the bear hunt in the fall, the turkeyhunt at Christmas, and venison hams kept over from last year, stillthere was plenty.

  Daniel Boone, the patriarch of about forty families, ever on thelookout with his long thin eagle face, ruled by advice and example.The once light flaxen hair was gray, but even yet Boone's step wasspringy as the Indian's, as gun in hand he watched around the forts.

  Maine, Montana, each has known it all, the same running fights ofKentucky and Oregon. Woe to the little children playing outside theforted village,--woe to the lad driving home the cows,--woe to themaid at milking time.

  The alarm was swelled by Quas-qua-ma, a chief of the Sacs, a verypacific Indian and friend of the whites, who came by night to bringwarning and consult Clark. In his search Quas-qua-ma tip-toed fromporch to porch. Frightened habitants peered through the shutters.

  "What ees wanted?"

  "The Red Head Chief."

  But Clark had not arrived.

  "We must take this matter into our own hands," said the people."British and Indians came once from Mackinac. They may again."

  "Mackinac? They are at Fort Madison now, murdering our regulars andrangers. How long since they burned our boats and cargoes at FortBellevue? Any day they may drop down on St. Louis."

  "We must fortify."

  "The old bastions may be made available for service."

  "The old Spanish garrison tower must be refitted for the women andchildren."

  Such were the universal conclusions. Men went up the river to theislands to bring down logs. Another party set to work to dig a wide,deep ditch for a regular stockade.

  When Clark arrived to begin his duties as Territorial Governor hefound St. Louis bordering on a state of panic. There was thecloud-shadow of the north. Below, one thousand Indians, Cherokees,Chickasaws, Choctaws, Creeks, and Catawbas on a branch of the Arkansaswithin three days' journey of Saint Genevieve were crossing the riverat Chickasaw Bluffs. Tecumseh's belts of wampum were flyingeverywhere.

  In their best necklaces of bears' claws Clark's ninety chiefs camehome, laden with tokens of esteem. Civilised military dress hadsucceeded the blanket; the wild fierce air was gone.

  "We have declared war against Kinchotch [King George]," said the proudchiefs, taking boat to keep their tribes quiet along the west.

  A sense of security returned to St. Louis. Would they not act as abarrier to tribes more remote? The plan for local fortification wasabandoned, but a cordon of family blockhouses was built fromBellefontaine to Kaskaskia, a line seventy-five miles in length, alongwhich the rangers rode daily, watching the red marauders of Illinois.The Mississippi was picketed with gunboats.

  "Whoever holds Prairie du Chien holds the Upper Mississippi," saidGovernor Clark. "I will go there and break up that rendezvous ofBritish and Indians."

  Who better than Clark knew the border and the Indian? He could ply theoar, or level the rifle, or sleep at night on gravel stones.

  "It requires time and a little smoking with Indians if you wish tohave peace with them."

  As soon as possible a gunboat, the _Governor Clark_, and severalsmaller boats, manned with one hundred and fifty volunteers and sixtyregular troops, went up into the hostile country. Fierce Sacs glaredfrom Rock Island, Foxes paused in their lead digging at Dubuque'smines,--lead for British cannon.

  Although on Missouri territory, Prairie du Chien was still occupied byIndians and traders to the exclusion of Americans. Six hundred, sevenhundred miles above St. Louis, a little red bird whispered up theMississippi, "Long Knives coming!" The traders retired.

  "Whoever enjoys the trade of the Indians will have control of theiraffections and power," said Clark. "Too long have we left this pointunfortified."

  A great impression had been made on the savages by the liberality ofthe British traders. Their brilliant red coats--"Eenah! eenah!eenamah!" exclaimed the Sioux.

  But now the Long Knives! Wabasha, son of Wabasha of the Revolution,remembered the Long Knives. When Clark arrived at Prairie du ChienWabasha refused to fight him. Red Wing came down to the council. Uponhis bosom Rising Moose proudly exhibited a medal given him by CaptainPike in 1805. The Indians nicknamed him "Tammaha, the Pike."

  Twenty-five leagues above Tammaha's village lived Wabasha, andtwenty-five above Wabasha, the Red Wing, all great chiefs of theSioux, all very friendly now to the Long Knife who had come up in hisgunboat.

  Since time immemorial Wabasha had been a friend of the British, twicehad he, the son of Wabasha I., been to Quebec and received flags andmedals. But now he remembered Captain Pike who visited their northernwaters while Lewis and Clark were away at the west. Grasping the handof Clark,--

  "We have the greatest friendship for the United States," said thechiefs,--all except Little Crow. He was leading a war party to theLakes.

  Leaving troops to erect a fort and maintain a garrison at the oldFrench Prairie du Chien, Governor Clark returned to his necessaryduties at St. Louis. Behind on the river remained the gunboat to guardthe builders.

  "A fort at the Prairie?" cried the British traders at Mackinac. "Thatcuts off our Dakota trade." And forthwith an expedition was raised tocapture the garrison.

  Barely was the rude fortification completed before a force of Britishand Chippewas were marching upon it.

  "I will not fight the Big Knives any more," said Red Wing.

  "Why?" asked the traders.

  "The lion and the eagle fight. Then the lion will go home and leave usto the eagle." Red Wing was famed for foretelling events at Prairie duChien.

  In June Manuel Lisa came down the Missouri.

  "De Arrapahoe, Arikara, Gros Ventre, and Crow are at war wit' deAmerican. De British Nort'west traders embroil our people wit' desauvages to cut dem off!"

  "We must extend the posts of St. Louis to the British border,"cautioned Clark to Lisa. "And if necessary arm the Yanktons and Omahasagainst the Sacs and Iowas. I herewith commission you, Lisa, myespecial sub-agent among the nations of the Missouri to keep them atpeace."

  Very well Clark knew whom he was trusting. Now that war had crippledthe Missouri Fur Company, Lisa alone represented them in the field.F
amiliar with the fashions of Indians, the size and colour of thefavourite blanket, the shape and length of tomahawks, no trader wasmore a favourite than Manuel Lisa. Besides, he still maintained thecompany's posts,--Council Bluffs with the Omahas, six hundred miles upthe Missouri, and another at the Sioux, six hundred miles furtherstill, with two hundred hunters in his employ. Here was a force not tobe despised.

  Ten months in the year Lisa was buried in the wilderness, hid in theforest and the prairie, far from his wife in St. Louis. Wily, winning,and strategic, no trader knew Indians better.

  "And," continued the Governor, "I offer you five hundred dollars forsub-agent's salary."

  "A poor five hundred tollar!" laughed Lisa. "Eet will not buy tetobacco which I give annually to dose who call me Fader. But Lisa willgo. His interests and dose of de Government are one."

  Then after a moment's frowning reflection,--"I haf suffered enough,"almost wailed Lisa, "I haf suffered enough in person and in propertyunder a different government, to know how to appreciate de one underw'ich I now live."

  Even while they were consulting, "Here is your friend, de RisingMoose!" announced old Antoine Le Claire.

  "Rising Moose?" Governor Clark started to his feet as one of thePrairie du Chien chiefs came striding through the door.

  "The fort is taken, but I will not fight the Long Knife. Tammaha is anAmerican."

  All the way down on the gunboat riddled with bullets, Tammaha had comewith the fleeing soldiers to offer his tomahawk to Governor Clark. Theguns were not yet in when the enemy swept down on the fort at Prairiedu Chien.

  "Prairie du Chien lost? It shall be recovered. Wait until Spring."

  And the British, too, said, "Wait until Spring and we will take St.Louis." But they feared the gunboats.

  Governor Clark accepted Tammaha's service, commissioning him a chiefof the Red Wing band of Sioux. "Wait and go up with Lisa. Tell yourpeople the Long Knife counsels them to remain quiet."

  When Lisa set out for the north as agent of both the fur business andthat of the Government, he carried with him mementoes and friendlyreminders to all the principal chiefs of the northern tribes.

  Big Elk of the Omahas, Black Cat and Big White of the Mandans, LeBorgne of the Minnetarees, even the chiefs of the dreaded Teton Siouxwere not forgotten. The Red Head had been there, had visited theircountry. He was the son of their Great Father,--they would listen tothe Red Head Chief.

  At this particular juncture of our national history, Clark the RedHead and Manuel Lisa the trader formed a fortunate combination for theinterests of the United States. Their words to the northern chiefswere weighty. Their gifts were continued pledges of sacred friendship.While the eyes of the nation were rivetted on the conflict in the Eastand on the ocean, Clark held the trans-Mississippi with even astronger grip than his illustrious brother had held thetrans-Alleghany thirty years before.

  Along with Lisa up the Missouri to the Dakotas went Tammaha, theRising Moose, and crossed to Prairie du Chien.

  "Where do you come from and what business have you here?" cried theBritish commander, rudely jerking Tammaha's bundle from his back andexamining it for letters.

  "I come from St. Louis," answered the Moose. "I promised the LongKnife I would come to Prairie du Chien and here I am."

  "Lock him in the guard house. He ought to be shot!" roared theofficer.

  "I am ready for death if you choose to kill me," answered RisingMoose.

  At last in the depth of winter they sent him away.

  Determined now, the old chief set out in the snows to turn all hisenergy against the British.

  "The Old Priest," said some of the Indians, "Tammaha talks too much!"

  All along the Missouri, from St. Louis to the Mandans, Lisa heldcouncils with the Indians with wonderful success. But the Mississippitribes, nearer to Canada, were for the most part won over to GreatBritain.

  In other directions Governor Clark sent out for reports from thetribes. The answer was appalling. As if all were at war, a cordon offoes stretched from the St. Lawrence to the Arkansas and Alabama.

  Even Black Partridge,--at the Fort Dearborn massacre he had snatchedMrs. Helm from the tomahawk and held her in the lake to save her life.Late that night at an Indian camp a friendly squaw-mother dressed herwounds. Black Partridge loved that girl.

  "Lieutenant Helm is a prisoner among the Indians," said agent Forsytheat Peoria. "Here are presents, Black Partridge. Go ransom him. Here isa written order on General Clark for one hundred dollars when youbring him to the Red Head Chief."

  Black Partridge rode to the Kankakee village and spread out hispresents. "And you shall have one huntret tollars when you bring himto te Red Head Chief."

  "Not enough! Not enough!" cried the Indians.

  "Here, then, take my pony, my rifle, my ring," said the Partridge,unhooking the hoop of gold from his nose. The bargain was made. Theman was ransomed, and mounted on ponies all started for St. Louis.Lieutenant Helm was saved.

  Late at night, tired and hungry, the rain falling in torrents, withoutpony or gun, Black Partridge arrived at his village on Peoria Lake.His village? It was gone. Black embers smouldered there.

  Wrapped in his blanket, Black Partridge sat on the ground to await therevelation of dawn. Wolves howled a mournful wail in his superstitiousear. Day dawned. There lay the carnage of slaughter,--his daughter,his grandchild, his neighbours, dead. The rangers had burnt his town.

  Breathing vengeance, "I will go on the war path," said BlackPartridge, the Pottawattamie.

  Two hundred warriors went from the wigwams of Illinois under BlackPartridge, Shequenebec sent a hundred from his stronghold at the headof Peoria Lake, Mittitass led a hundred from his village at theportage on the Riviere des Plaines. Painted black they came,inveterate since Tippecanoe.

  "Look out for squalls," wrote John O'Fallon from St. Louis to hismother at Louisville. "An express arrived from Fort Madison yesterdayinforming that the sentinels had been obliged to fire upon the Indiansalmost every night to keep them at their distance. Indians arediscovered some nights within several feet of the pickets."

  Black Hawk was there. Very angry was Black Hawk at the building ofFort Madison at the foot of Des Moines rapids.

  While Lewis and Clark were gone in 1804, William Henry Harrison,directed by Jefferson, made a treaty with the Sacs and Foxes by whichthey gave up fifty millions of acres. Gratiot, Vigo, the Chouteaus,and officers of the state and army, Quasquama and four other chiefs,attached their names to that treaty in the presence of Major Stoddard.

  "I deny its validity!" cried Black Hawk. "I never gave up my land."

  Now Black Hawk was plotting and planning and attacking Fort Madison,until early in September a panting express arrived at St. Louis.

  "Fort Madison is burned, Your Excellency."

  "How did it happen?" inquired the Governor.

  "Besieged until the garrison was reduced to potatoes alone, we decidedto evacuate. Digging a tunnel from the southeast blockhouse to theriver, boats were made ready. Slipping out at night, crowding throughthe tunnel on hands and knees, our last man set fire to Fort Madison.Like tinder the stockade blazed, kissing the heavens. Indians leapedand yelled with tomahawks, expecting our exit. At their backs, undercover of darkness, we escaped down the Mississippi."