of truce to Gen. Atkinson and ask permission to descend Rock river,
re-cross the Mississippi and go back to their country.

STILLMAN'S DEFEAT.

About this time, Gen. Whitesides had concentrated a large force of
militia at Dixon's Ferry, and at the solicitation of Major Stillman,
permitted him to take out a scouting party of nearly 300 mounted men.
They went up Rock river, about thirty miles to Sycamore creek, and
encamped within a few miles of Black Hawk's camp, but were not aware of
its position at the time. Indian scouts having intercepted their coming
reported at once to Black Hawk that a large army of mounted militia
were coming towards his camp; and before the volunteers had entirely
completed their arrangements for encampment, outside guards espied three
Indians coming in with a white flag. After holding a parley with them,
(one of the guards being able to talk a little with them in their own
language), they were hurried into camp, and before any explanations were
made, the flag bearer was shot and instantly killed, whilst his comrades
made their escape during the confusion in getting the regiment ready to
pursue the fleeing Indians. These had secreted themselves in ambush as
the army rushed by, helter skelter, after another small party of Indians
who had followed the flag bearers, and who, when hearing the uproar
in camp made a hasty retreat. The entire regiment was soon mounted and
started out in squads towards the camp of Black Hawk. The latter having
learned by a scout that the army was coming, started at once with less
than fifty mounted warriors, his entire force then in camp, to meet the
enemy, and on arriving at a copse of timber and underbrush near Sycamore
creek, made ready to meet them.

Capt. Eads' company, who were the first to start out, killed two of
the five fleeing Indians. Soon after crossing Sycamore creek they were
surprised by a terrific war whoop from the Indians, who were concealed
in the bushes near by, and with deadly aim commenced firing into the
front ranks of the regiment, and with unearthly yells (as one of the
fleeing party told us on arriving at Galena), charged upon our ranks,
with tomahawks raised, ready to slaughter all who might come within
their reach. Judging from the yelling of the Indians, their number was
variously estimated at from one thousand to two thousand.

The entire party was thrown into such confusion that Major Stillman
had no control of any of them, and, w