"We were soon out of provisions, and having no means of killing game, our hearts began to fail us. Turner was unwell, and on arriving at a branch of Crow river, about one hundred miles northwest of Fort Snelling, he found himself unable to swim. I tried to carry him across on my back, but could not do it; he was drowned, and I barely succeeded in reaching the sh.o.r.e. After resting, I proceeded on my journey. When I came in sight of the Indian village, much as I needed food and rest, I dreaded to show myself, for fear of meeting Watson's fate. I was spared the necessity of deciding. I fainted and fell to the ground. They found me, and proved kinder than I antic.i.p.ated.

"Why they should have molested us I know not. There is something in it that I do not understand."

But it is easily explained. Sullen Face supposed them to belong to the party that had killed his friends, and through this error he had shed innocent blood.

CHAPTER IV.

Who that has seen Fort Snelling will not bear testimony to its beautiful situation! Whichever way we turn, nature calls for our admiration. But beautiful as it is by day, it is at night that its majesty and loveliness speak to the soul. Look to the north, (while the Aurora Borealis is flashing above us, and the sound of the waters of St.

Anthony's Falls meets the ear,) the high bluffs of the Mississippi seem to guard its waters as they glide along. To the south, the St. Peter's has wandered off, preferring gentle prairies to rugged cliffs. To the east we see the "meeting of the waters;" gladly as the returning child meets the welcoming smile of the parent, do the waves of the St. Peter's flow into the Mississippi. On the west, there is prairie far as the eye can reach.

But it is to the free only that nature is beautiful. Can the prisoner gaze with pleasure on the brightness of the sky, or listen to the rippling of the waves? they make him feel his fetters the more.

I am here, with my heavy chain!

And I look on a torrent sweeping by.

And an eagle rushing to the sky, And a host to its battle plain.

Must I pine in my fetters here!

With the wild wave's foam and the free bird's flight, And the tall spears glancing on my sight, And the trumpet in mine ear?

The summer of 1845 found Sullen Face a prisoner at Fort Snelling.

Government having been informed of the murder of Watson by two Dahcotah Indians, orders were received at Fort Snelling that two companies should proceed to the Sisseton country, and take the murderers, that they might be tried by the laws of the United States.

Now for excitement, the charm of garrison life. Officers are of course always ready to "go where glory waits" them, but who ever heard of one being ready to go when the order came?

Alas! for the young officer who has a wife to leave; it will be weeks before he meets again her gentle smile!

Still more--alas for him who has no wife at all! for he has not a shirt with b.u.t.tons on it, and most of what he has are in the wash. He will have to borrow of Selden; but here's the difficulty, Selden is going too, and is worse off than himself. But no matter! what with pins and twine and trusting to chance, they will get along.

Then the married men are inquiring for tin reflectors, for hard bread, though healthy, is never tempting. India rubber cloaks are in requisition too.

Those who are going, claim the doctor in case of accidents. Those who stay, their wives at least, want him for fear of measles; while the disciple of Esculapius, though he knows there will be better cooking if he remain at home, is certain there will be food for fun if he go. It is soon decided--the doctor goes.

Then the privates share in the pleasure of the day. How should a soldier be employed but in active service? besides, what a capital chance to desert! One, who is tired of calling "All's well" through the long night, with only the rocks and trees to hear him, hopes that it will be his happy fate to find out there is danger near, and to give the alarm, Another vows, that if trouble wont come, why he will bring it by quarrelling with the first rascally Indian he meets. All is ready.

Rations are put up for the men;--hams, buffalo tongues, pies and cake for the officers. The battalion marches out to the sound of the drum and fife;--they are soon down the hill--they enter their boats; hand-kerchiefs are waved from the fort, caps are raised and flourished over the water;--they are almost out of sight--they are gone.

When the troops reached their destination, Sullen Face and Forked Horn were not there, but the chief gave them three of his warriors, (who were with the party of Sullen Face at the time of the murder,) promising that when the two murderers returned they would come to Fort Snelling, and give themselves up.

There was nothing then to prevent the immediate return of our troops.

Their tramp had been a delightful one, and so far success had crowned their expedition. They were in the highest spirits. But a little incident occurred on their return, that was rather calculated to show the transitoriness of earthly joys. One dark night, when those who were awake were thinking, and those who slept were dreaming of their welcome home, there was evidently a disturbance. The sleepers roused themselves; guns were discharged. What could it be?

The cause was soon ascertained. To speak poetically, the birds had flown--in plain language, the prisoners had run away. They were not bound, their honor had been trusted to;--but you cannot place much reliance on the honor of an Indian with a prison in prospect. I doubt if a white man could be trusted under such circ.u.mstances. True, there was a guard, but, as I said, 'twas a dark night.

The troops returned in fine health, covered with dust and fleas, if not with glory.

CHAPTER V.

It is time to return to Sullen Face. He and Forked Horn, on their return to the village, were informed of what had occurred during their absence.

They offered to fulfil the engagement of the chief, and accompanied by others of the band, they started for Fort Snelling. The wife of Sullen Face had insisted upon accompanying him, and influenced by a presentiment that he should never return to his native village, he allowed her to do so. Their little boy quite forgot his fatigue as he listened to his father's voice, and held his hand. When they were near the fort, notice of their approach was sent to the commanding officer.

The entire force of the garrison marched out to receive the prisoners. A large number of Indians a.s.sembled to witness the scene--their gay dresses and wild appearance adding to its interest.

Sullen Face and Forked Horn, with the Sioux who had accompanied them, advanced to meet the battalion. The little boy dressed as a warrior, his war-eagle plumes waving proudly over his head, held his father's hand.

In a moment the iron grasp of the soldier was on the prisoner's shoulder; they entered the gate of the fort; and he, who had felt that the winds of Heaven were not more free than a Dahcotah warrior, was now a prisoner in the power of the white man. But he entered not his cell until he had sung a warrior's song. Should his enemies think that he feared them? Had he not yielded himself up?

It was hard to be composed in parting with his wife and child. "Go my son," he said, "you will soon be old enough to kill the buffalo for your mother." But to his wife he only said, "I have done no wrong, and fear not the power of my enemies." The Sissetons returned to the village, leaving the prisoners at Fort Snelling, until they should be sent to Dubuque for trial.

They frequently walked about the fort, accompanied by a guard. Sullen Face seemed to be indifferent to his fate, and was impressed with the idea that he never would return to his home. "Beautiful country!" said he, as he gazed towards the point where the waters of the Mississippi and St. Peter's meet. "I shall never look upon you again, the waters of the rivers unite, but I have parted forever from country and friends. My spirit tells me so. Then welcome death! they guard me now with sword and bayonet, but the soul of the Dahcotah is free."

After their removal to Dubuque, the two prisoners from Fort Snelling, with others who had been concerned in the murder, suffered much from sickness. Sullen Face would not complain, but the others tried to induce him to make his escape. He, at first, refused to do so, but finding his companions determined upon going, he at last consented.

Their plans succeeded, and after leaving the immediate neighborhood, they broke their shackles with stones. They were obliged, however, to hide themselves for a time among the rocks, to elude the sheriff and his party. They were not taken, and as soon as they deemed it prudent, they resumed their route.

Two of the prisoners died near Prairie du Chien. Sullen Face, Forked Horn, and another Sioux, pursued their journey with difficulty, for they were near perishing from want of food. They found a place where the Winnebagoes had encamped, and they parched the corn that lay scattered on the ground.

Disease had taken a strong hold upon the frame of Sullen Face; he constantly required the a.s.sistance of his companions. When they were near Prairie le Gros, he became so ill that he was unable to proceed. He insisted upon his friends leaving him; this they at first refused to do, but fearing that they would be found and carried back to prison, they consented--and the dying warrior found himself alone.

Some Indians who were pa.s.sing by saw him and gently carried him to their wigwam. But he heeded not their kindness. Death had dimmed the brightness of his eye, and his fast-failing strength told of the long journey to the spirits' land.

"It was not thus," he said, "that I thought to die! Where are the warriors of the Sissetons? Do they listen to my death song?" I hoped to have triumphed over the white man, but his power has prevailed. My spirit drooped within his hated walls? But hark! there is music in my ears--'tis the voice of the sister of my youth--"Come with me my brother, we wait for you in the house of the spirits! we will sit by the banks of a lake more beautiful than that by which we wandered in our childhood; you will roam over the hunting grounds of your forefathers, and there the white man may never come."

His eyes are closing fast in death, but his lips murmur--"Wenona! I come! I come!"

TONWA-YAH-PE-KIN;

THE SPIES.

CHAPTER I.

IT was in the spring of 1848, that several Dahcotahs were carefully making their way along the forests near the borders of the Chippeway country. There had recently been a fight near the spot where they were, and the Dahcotahs were seeking the bodies of their friends who had been slain, that they might take them home to bury them.

They moved noiselessly along, for their enemies were near. Occasionally, one of them would imitate the cry of a bird or of some animal, so that if the attention of their enemies should be drawn to the spot, the slight noise they made in moving might be attributed to any but the right cause.

They had almost given up the hope of finding their friends, and this was the close of their last day's efforts to that intent. In the morning they intended to return to their village.

It was a bright clear evening, and the rays of the setting sun fell upon some objects further on. For a time the Dahcotahs gazed in silence; but no movement gave sign of what it was that excited their curiosity. All at once there was a fearful foreboding; they remembered why they were there, and they determined to venture near enough to find out what was the nature of the object on which the rays of the sun seemed to rest as if to attract their notice.