He had been gone about two weeks, and I was beginning to count the days which must elapse before I could reasonably expect his return, when, one afternoon, I went over to pay a visit to my sister at the Fort.  As I passed into the large hall of one range of quarters, Lieutenant Lacy came suddenly in from the opposite direction, and, almost without stopping, 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 five hundred a day.  Dr. Finley has just arrived with the news.”  So saying, he vanished, without stopping to answer a question.

The cholera at Rock Island, and my husband there!  I flew to the other door of the hall, which looked out upon the parade-ground.  A sentinel was walking near.  “Soldier,” cried I, “will you run to the young officers’ 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 ladies could not afford to keep a scrupulous tariff of moral qualification.

“Oh!  Catharine,” said I, “will you run over and ask Dr. Finley to come here 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 here to-morrow.”  He then gave me an account of the ravages the cholera was making among the troops, which were indeed severe, although less so than rumor had at first proclaimed.

Notwithstanding the doctor’s assurance of his safety, my husband was seized with cholera on his journey.  By the kind care of Paquette and the plentiful use of chicken-broth which the poor woman at whose cabin he stopped administered to him, he soon recovered, and reached his home in safety, having taken Prairie du Chien in his route and brought his mother 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 retaining them, and become surrounded and hemmed in by the white settlers, their situation is more deplorable than if they surrendered their homes altogether.  This they are aware of, and therefore, as a general thing, they give up their lands at the proposal of Government, and only take care to make the best bargain they can for themselves.  In this instance they were to receive as an equivalent a tract of land[57] extending to the interior of Iowa, and an additional sum of ten thousand dollars annually.