en
brought the day previous," next, that "the Sauks were carrying
Lieutenant Beall's head on a pole in front of them as they marched to
meet the whites." Sometimes it was a story which we afterwards found to
be unhappily true, as that of the murder of their Agent, M. St Vrain, at
Kellogg's Grove, by the Sauks themselves, who ought to have protected
him.

It was after the news of this last occurrence that the appointed council
with the Winnebagoes was to be held at the Four Lakes, thirty-five miles
distant from Fort Winnebago.

In vain we pleaded and remonstrated against such an exposure. "It was
his duty to assemble his people and talk to them," my husband said, "and
he must run the risk, if there were any. He had perfect confidence in
the Winnebagoes. The enemy, by all he could learn, were now far distant
from the Four Lakes--probably at Kosh-ko-nong. He would set off early in
the morning with Paquette, bold his council, and return to us the same
evening."

It were useless to attempt to describe our feelings during that long and
dreary day. When night arrived, the cry of a drunken Indian, or even the
barking of a dog, would fill our hearts with terror.

As we sat, at a late hour, at the open window, listening to every sound,
with what joy did we at length distinguish the tramp of horses! We knew
it to be Griffin and Jerry ascending the hill, and a cheerful shout soon
announced that all was well. My husband and his interpreter had ridden
seventy miles that day, besides holding a long "talk" with the Indians.

The Winnebagoes in council had promised to use their utmost endeavors to
preserve peace and good order among their young men. They informed their
Father that the bands on the Rock River, with the exception of
Win-no-sheek's, were all determined to remain friendly and keep aloof
from the Sauks. To that end, they were abandoning their villages and
corn-fields and moving north, that their Great Father, the President,
might not feel dissatisfied with them. With regard to Win-no-sheek and
his people, they professed themselves unable to answer.

Time went on, and brought with it stories of fresh outrages. Among these
were the murders of Auberry, Green, and Force, at Blue Mound, and the
attack on Apple Fort. The tidings of the latter were brought by old
Crely,[53] the father of Mrs. Paquette, who rode express from Galena,
and who averred that he once passed a bush behind which the Sauks were
hiding, but that his ho