NO ADOPTION
George Rogers Clark’s sudden appearance in the French settlements with
his army threw the Indians camping there into a panic. They thought the
army larger than it was and expected to be attacked momentarily. Some
tribes asked their French friends in Kaskaskia and Cahokia what they
should do.
The French, who were now firm friends of the Long-Knives, advised them
to call upon Clark and sue for peace. Then these same Frenchmen reported
to Clark that the Indians had come to them for advice.
Colonel Clark was quick to take advantage of the Indians’ confusion. He
prepared a letter to be sent to the tribes, telling them to lay down
their tomahawks and ally themselves with him, or to fight like men for
the English. Jim Hudson made several copies of this letter, which Clark
sent by him and other messengers to the different tribes.
The Kickapoos and Piankeshaws signed treaties immediately with the
Long-Knives. Other tribes, however——the Chippewas, Ottawas, Potawatomis,
Sacs and Foxes——came into Cahokia and demanded a council with Clark.
They wanted to see the chief Long-Knife and to hear what he had to say.
Colonel Clark sent word to them that he would attend their council, but
he took his time about going to Cahokia to meet with them. He thought it
would be well for the Indians to wait on him. After a while he took Jim
Hudson, some of his officers and many of his soldiers to Cahokia, which
had sworn allegiance to him through Captain Bowman.
Clark’s new headquarters were in a house beside the Cahokia River. In a
few days a band of Winnebagos, often called Stinkers by the French,
pitched camp in a Frenchman’s yard, just across the road from Clark’s
headquarters.
When Jim Hudson saw the Indians he was frightened and said to Colonel
Clark, “I don’t think those Stinkers should camp so near you, sir. They
might attack us. We don’t have many soldiers here.”
The colonel’s eyes twinkled. “How right you are, Jim. I think they have
something like that in mind. Perhaps they want to kidnap me so I can’t
appear at the council.”
Jim shivered. “Oh, sir! Can’t you recall some of the men you have
stationed around the town?”
“Jim, you have the mark of a military man,” Colonel Clark replied.
“That’s what I intend to do, but I don’t want these Stinkers to know
about my reinforcements. You go to my captains now and tell them to send
several guard details to my headquarters as soon as it is dark. Tell
them to come in one by one at the rear.”
“Yes, sir,” Jim replied, glad to have an errand and to know they were to
have more soldiers at headquarters. He dashed out to find Captain Helm
and Simon Kenton.
That evening fifty guards began filtering into headquarters, some to
conceal themselves in the house, others to stand in the darkness
outside. Although Clark walked alone about the yard, nothing happened.
The next night the guards again took up their same stations. Colonel
Clark stayed up late, supposedly working on reports.
Jim couldn’t sleep, so he went to the window and stared out into the
night. About one o’clock shots were fired across the river. In a few
minutes Jim saw some skulking figures in the headquarters yard. He
wanted to scream, but Clark himself gave the alarm.
Immediately the guards appeared from all sides of the building. They
succeeded in capturing three of the Stinkers and hustled them into
headquarters. The shots and ensuing racket awakened the town; some of
the citizens hurried to headquarters to see what was the matter.
To Jim’s great surprise, the colonel asked these Frenchmen what
punishment they thought these Stinkers deserved. In one voice they said
these Indians should be put in irons. Then and there, Clark made this an
order. Thus he maneuvered so that the French suggested the punishment
for the Indians.
The next morning Colonel Clark went to the great Indian council,
accompanied by some of his officers and townsmen. At the last minute he
told Jim he might go. He also had the three Stinkers brought to the
council in chains. How ridiculous they looked clanking along beside the
officers.
Jim was amazed at the number of Indians awaiting Colonel Clark’s
arrival. Jim looked over the crowd to see if he could see Chief
Minnemung or any of his Potawatomis. If they were there he could not
locate them in the vast throng.
He glanced at his colonel, wondering if he were not frightened among so
many Indians. But Clark looked as if he were master of the entire
council. Fear was not a part of George Rogers Clark’s character; and
since the Indians had asked him to come to the council, he waited for
them to speak.
After a few minutes a tall, erect, haughty chief, dressed in a handsome
buffalo robe, came forward to stand directly in front of Colonel Clark.
“Chief Long-Knife,” he began, “we hope the Great Spirit has brought us
together for good and that we may be received as friends. The bad bird
British ordered us to attack your countrymen.”
He turned and motioned for one of his tribesmen to bring something to
him. When the Indian brought him a bloody belt, some red wampum and two
British flags, the chief threw them to the floor and stomped upon them.
“We have received these emblems of war from the bad bird British and now
we hope peace with you will take the place of the bloody belt of war.”
Then the chief walked back to his people. Other chiefs came up asking
for peace. Even the Winnebagos came up and offered the peace pipe to
Colonel Clark.
He waved them away, however, because he knew it was best to keep the
Winnebagos in suspense for a while about the fate of their Stinker
relatives still in chains. Then he told all chiefs who had made speeches
that he would consider their offer and give them an answer the next day.
He left the council with his staff, and all the townspeople and Jim.
The next morning after the council fires were kindled anew, George
Rogers Clark gave his answer to the waiting Indians. He told them why
the Long-Knives were at war with the British, and that the British had
become so weak they were forced to hire Indians to fight for them. He
also told them the French king, father of all their French friends, had
also joined the Long-Knives against the British.
Finally he said, “Now you can judge who is right, the Long-Knives or the
British. Here is the bloody belt of war, here the white belt of peace.
Take the one you please. Behave like men though, and choose the one you
wish.
[Illustration: uncaptioned]
“I do not want you to give me an answer until you have time to counsel.
We will part, and when you are ready, if the Great Spirit will bring us
together again, let us prove ourselves worthy by speaking and thinking
with one heart and one tongue.” Then Colonel Clark and his group left
the council, not returning until the Indians sent for him.
They had assembled with their peace pipes, and many chiefs made flowery
speeches about their intended friendship with the Long-Knives. Later
they smoked their peace pipes and offered them to Clark, who went
through the pipe-smoking ceremony with them.
Jim Hudson knew Indians did not always keep their word; how he hoped
Colonel Clark knew it, too.
These council meetings went on for days until Jim grew weary of
attending them. One morning, however, he was surprised to see two
stalwart young Winnebagos present themselves in front of Colonel Clark,
then fall to the ground and cover themselves with a blanket.
Jim did not know what to make of this and looked questioningly at the
colonel. George Rogers Clark’s face did not change expression as he
waited to see what would happen next.
One of the Winnebago chiefs stepped forward; he explained that these two
young men were offering themselves as a sacrifice to atone for what
their Winnebago relatives had done at Clark’s headquarters.
Colonel Clark did not reply at once, but kept staring at the blanket
covering the two men. Jim and the rest waited anxiously, expecting the
colonel to order the Winnebagos killed immediately, or at least to be
cast into irons.
To everyone’s amazement, Colonel Clark rose and ordered the two Indians
to stand. Then he took each of them by the hand as brothers and
introduced them to his officers and the Frenchmen sitting with his
group. A loud murmur of approval arose from the surprised Indians. Still
more surprising to Jim was Clark’s order to free the Stinkers who had
tried to kidnap him.
All during these meetings Jim had looked in vain for the Potawatomis
with whom he had spent the winter; he wondered if they had ever arrived
in Cahokia. The day after Clark had freed the Stinkers, Jim discovered
Chief Minnemung and his clan sitting near the front of the assembly. For
a moment he was afraid—would these Potawatomis try to capture him again?
Then he glanced at Colonel Clark and realized he was safe where he was.
At this council meeting Big Gate, one of the great Potawatomi chiefs,
spoke for the entire tribe, saying they were ready to sign a peace
treaty with the Long-Knives. When the treaty was signed, Colonel Clark
and his staff rose to leave. Suddenly Chief Minnemung barred his path.
“Big Long-Knife, chief of all the Long-Knives,” Minnemung began, nodding
toward Jim, “this boy ran away from our clan. I planned to adopt him as
my own son.”
Jim began to tremble when Colonel Clark turned to him, all the while
pretending he had never known of Minnemung’s plan. “Jim,” he said
sternly, “is this true?”
“Yes, sir,” Jim stammered, “but I didn’t want——”
Chief Minnemung gestured impatiently, as he interrupted Jim. “Big
Long-Knife, I say Chief Minnemung no longer wants to adopt this boy. He
not make good Potawatomi. He is Jim Long-Knife. Chief Minnemung is no
longer interested in him. He now belongs to Big Long-Knife Clark.”
Jim sighed in relief as Clark said gravely, “So be it, Chief Minnemung.
I accept this boy as Jim Long-Knife.” He extended his hand to the
Potawatomi chief to seal their bargain.
Chief Minnemung shook hands with Clark without glancing at Jim. Then he
walked proudly to his clan.
George Rogers Clark could be stern no longer. As he looked at Jim for a
moment, his hazel eyes twinkled in fun. “I guess this makes you safe,
Jim. You are now under my control and a real Long-Knife. Chief Minnemung
has decreed it. Jim Long-Knife. That’s a fine name for you.”
Jim smiled. “Oh, sir, thank you. I’m so glad Chief Minnemung doesn’t
want me. I saw him sitting with the other Indians today, and I was
afraid he might have his men take me prisoner again sometime.”
[Illustration: uncaptioned]