The shouts of laughter which greeted this explanation were so contagious that poor Wild-Cat himself was compelled to join in it, and treat his misfortune as a joke.

The suspected Indians having engaged the services of Judge Doty to defend them on their future trial, notice was at length given that on a certain day they would be brought to the Portage and surrendered to their Father, to be by him transferred to the keeping of the military officer appointed to receive them.

It was joyful news to poor Wau-kaun-kah, that the day of his release was at hand.  Every time that we had been within the walls of the Fort we had been saluted by a call from him, as he kept his station at the guard-room window: 

“Do you hear anything of those Indians?  When are they coming, that I may be let out?”

We had endeavored to lighten his confinement by seeing that he was well supplied with food, and his Father and Paquette had paid him occasional visits; but, notwithstanding these attentions and the kindness he had received at the Fort, his confinement was inexpressibly irksome.

On the morning of a bright autumnal day the authorities were notified that the chiefs of the nation would present themselves at the Agency to deliver the suspected persons as prisoners to the Americans.

At the hour of ten o’clock, as we looked out over the Portage road, we could descry a moving concourse of people, in which brilliant color, glittering arms, and, as they approached still nearer, certain white objects of unusual appearance could be distinguished.

General Dodge, Major Plympton, and one or two other officers took their seats with Mr. Kinzie on the platform in front of the door of our mansion to receive them, while we stationed ourselves at the window where we could both see and hear.

The procession wound up the hill, and approached, marching slowly towards us.  It was a grand and solemn sight.  First came some of the principal chiefs in their most brilliant array.  Next, the prisoners, all habited in white cotton, in token of their innocence, with girdles round their waists.  The music of the drum and the shee-shee-qua accompanied their death-song, which they were chaunting.  They wore no paint, no ornaments—­their countenances were grave and thoughtful.  It might well be a serious moment to them, for they knew but little of the customs of the 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 the nation in this manner.

The remainder of the procession was made up of a long train of Winnebagoes, all decked out in their holiday garb.

The chiefs approached and shook hands with the gentlemen, who stood ready to receive their greeting.  Then the prisoners came forward, and went through the same salutation with the officers.  When they offered their hands to their Father, he declined.