“When we had gained the prairie, I was met by my father, who told me that my husband was safe and but slightly wounded.  They led me gently back towards the Chicago River, along the southern bank of which was the Pottowattamie encampment.  At one time I was placed upon a horse without a saddle, but, finding the motion insupportable, I sprang off.  Supported partly by my kind conductor, Black Partridge, and partly by another Indian, Pee-so-tum, who held dangling in his hand a scalp, which by the black ribbon around the queue I recognized as that of Captain Wells, I dragged my fainting steps to one of the wigwams.

“The wife of Wau-bee-nee-mah, a chief from the Illinois River, was standing near, and, seeing my exhausted condition, she seized a kettle, dipped up some water from a stream that flowed near,[36] threw into it some maple-sugar, and, stirring it up with her hand, gave it me to drink.  This act of kindness, in the midst of so many horrors, touched me most sensibly; but my attention was soon diverted to other objects.

“The fort had become a scene of plunder to such as remained after the troops marched out.  The cattle had been shot down as they ran at large, and lay dead or dying around.  This work of butchery had commenced just as we were leaving the fort.  I well remembered a remark of Ensign Ronan, as the firing went on.  ‘Such,’ turning to me, ’is to be our fate—­to be shot down like brutes!’

“‘Well, sir,’ said the commanding officer, who overheard him, ’are you afraid?’

“‘No,’ replied the high-spirited young man, ’I can march up to the enemy where you dare not show your face.’  And his subsequent gallant behavior showed this to be no idle boast.

“As the noise of the firing grew gradually less and the stragglers from the victorious party came dropping in, I received confirmation of what my father had hurriedly communicated in our rencontre on the lake shore; namely, that the whites had surrendered, after the loss of about two-thirds of their number.  They had stipulated, through the interpreter, Peresh Leclerc, for the preservation of their lives, and those of the remaining women and children, and for their delivery at some of the British posts, unless ransomed by traders in the Indian country.  It appears that the wounded prisoners were not considered as included in the stipulation, and a horrid scene ensued upon their being brought into camp.

“An old squaw, infuriated by the loss of friends, or excited by the sanguinary scenes around her, seemed possessed by a demoniac ferocity.  She seized a stable-fork and assaulted one miserable victim, who lay groaning and writhing in the agony of his wounds, aggravated by the scorching beams of the sun.  With a delicacy of feeling scarcely to have been expected under such circumstances, Wau-bee-nee-mah stretched a mat across two poles, between me and this dreadful scene.  I was thus spared in some degree a view of its horrors, although I could not entirely close my ears to the cries of the sufferer The following night five more of the wounded prisoners were tomahawked.”