He seemed a little nettled at this, and still more so when sister Margaret observed,—­

“For my part, I am of Governor Cass’s opinion.  He was at Chicago during the Winnebago war.  We were all preparing to move into the fort on the first alarm.  Some were for being brave and delaying, like our friends here.  ‘Come, come,’ said the Governor, ’hurry into the fort as fast as possible—­there is no merit in being brave with the Indians.  It is the height of folly to stay and meet danger which you may by prudence avoid.’”

In a few days our friends waked up to the conviction that something must be done at once The first step was to forbid any Winnebago coming within the garrison, lest they should find out what they had known as well as ourselves for three months past—­namely, the feebleness of the means of resistance.  The next was to send fatigue-parties into the woods, under the protection of a guard, to cut pickets for inclosing the garrison.

There was every reason to believe that the enemy were not very far distant, and that their object in coming north was to break a way into the Chippewa country, where they would find a place of security among their friends and allies.  The story that our Indian runners brought in most frequently was, that the Sauks were determined to fall upon the whites at the Portage and Fort, and massacre all, except the families of the Agent and Interpreter.

Plante and Pillon with their families had departed at the first word of danger.  There only remained with us Manaigre, whose wife was a half-Winnebago, Isidore Morrin, and the blacksmiths from Sugar Creek—­Mata and Turcotte.

At night we were all regularly armed and our posts assigned us.  After every means had been taken to make the house secure, the orders were given.  Sister Margaret and I, in case of attack, were to mount with the children to the rooms above, while my husband and his men were to make good their defence as long as possible against the enemy.  Since I had shown my sportsmanship by bringing down accidentally a blackbird on the wing, 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 fully resolved to use them, if necessity required.  I do not remember to have felt the slightest compunction at the idea of taking the lives of two Sauks, as I had no doubt I should do; and this explains to me what I had before often wondered at, the indifference, namely, of the soldier on the field of battle to the destruction of human life Had I been called upon, however, to use my weapons effectually, I should no doubt have looked back upon it with horror.

Surrounded as we were by Indian lodges, which seldom became perfectly quiet, and excited as our nerves had become by all that we were daily in the habit of hearing, we rarely slept very soundly.  One night, after we had as much as possible composed ourselves, we were startled at a late hour by a tap upon the window at the head of our bed, and a call of “Chon!  Chon!"[54] (John!  John!)