among the Indians, when he was met and made
prisoner by To-pee-nee-bee.

Having taken from him his arms and accoutrements, the chief put him into
a canoe and paddled him across the river, bidding him make for the woods
and secrete himself. This he did; and the following day, in the
afternoon, seeing from his lurking-place that all appeared quiet, he
ventured to steal cautiously into the garden of Ouilmette, where he
concealed himself for a time behind some currant-bushes.

At length he determined to enter the house, and accordingly climbed up
through a small back window into the room where the family were. This
was just as the Wabash Indians had left the house of Ouilmette for that
of Mr. Kinzie. The danger of the sergeant was now imminent. The family
stripped him of his uniform and arrayed him in a suit of deer-skin, with
belt, moccasins, and pipe, like a French engage. His dark complexion and
large black whiskers favored the disguise. The family were all ordered
to address him in French, and, although utterly ignorant of the
language, he continued to pass for a _Weem-tee-gosh_,[39] and as such to
accompany Mr. Kinzie and his family, undetected by his enemies, until
they reached a place of safety.

On the third day after the battle, the family of Mr. Kinzie, with the
clerks of the establishment, were put into a boat, under the care of
Francois, a half-breed interpreter, and conveyed to St. Joseph's, where
they remained until the following November, under the protection of
To-pee-nee-bee's band. They were then conducted to Detroit, under the
escort of Chandonnai and their trusty Indian friend, Kee-po-tah, and
delivered up, as prisoners of war, to Colonel McKee, the British Indian
Agent.

Mr. Kinzie was not allowed to leave St. Joseph's with his family, his
Indian friends insisting on his remaining and endeavoring to secure some
remnant of his scattered property. During his excursions with them for
that purpose, he wore the costume and paint of the tribe, in order to
escape capture and perhaps death at the hands of those who were still
thirsting for blood. In time, however, his anxiety for his family
induced him to follow them to Detroit, where, in the month of January,
he was received and paroled by General Proctor.

Captain and Mrs. Heald were sent across the lake to St. Joseph the day
after the battle. The former had received two wounds, the latter seven,
in the engagement.

Lieutenant Helm, who was likewise wo