"BOOKS BEAT GUNS, SONNY"
It was the tenth day of July when Abe Lincoln, who had for weeks been
struggling through the swamps and forests of Michigan territory in
pursuit of the fleeing Black Hawk, turned his face homeward.
The journey was made with many hardships. The remnant of the Company
went hungry for days, and to make matters worse several horses were
stolen, among them Abe Lincoln's.
A portion of the long way home was made down the Illinois River in
a canoe. The most of it, however, was tramped, and it was a jaded,
footsore and ragged ex-captain that arrived in New Salem the latter
part of July.
Nobody knew he was coming, no preparations had been made for him, and
when he went to his former home at the Camerons' he learned that, owing
to an increase in the size of the family, there was no longer bed space
for him, but that John Rutledge had said he could lodge at the Inn.
This was about the best news he could have heard, and tattered and
weary, yet with head held high and smiling face, he presented himself
at Rutledge Inn.
His welcome here was hearty and genuine, every member of the family,
even to Ann, trying to make him feel at home and all alike impatient to
hear the story of his travels.
"Did you see the Indians scalp anybody?" Sonnie asked excitedly.
"No--but we got there after half a dozen had just been scalped. We came
upon them in the early mornin' just as the red sun fell over their
bodies. There were small, red marks on top of the heads. The men were
scouts who had been surprised. One wore buckskin breeches."
"And did your men always give ready obedience?" asked Davy.
"Most of the time they did. Once I came near havin' a riot with them.
An aged Indian bearin' a safe-conduct pass from General Cass came
to camp. He was footsore, hungry and weary. The men did not want to
receive him. They said he was a spy and should be killed, and they
made plans to kill him. Just as they were about to proceed, their
six-foot-four Captain arrived and stopped proceedin's. This angered
the men. One of them shouted at me that I was a coward. I told him to
choose his weapon and step out and we'd see who was the coward. This he
did not do. The frightened old Indian was sent on his way in safety."
"It was a hard campaign for you, and with little results," Rutledge
remarked.
"Hard, yes--but not without results. There are different kinds of
results, you know, Mr. Rutledge. I didn't kill any Indians, but I had
far better luck than that. I got acquainted with Major John T. Stuart
of Springfield, who asked to be of service to me."
"What's he going to do for you?" asked Davy. "Give you a fine gun or
sword?"
"Better than that, Son, he is goin' to let me use his books."
"Books!" Sonny exclaimed, and the boy's voice was so charged with
disgust they all laughed.
"Yes, books," Abe Lincoln replied. "Rattlesnakes and panthers and
Indians know the fightin' game and have weapons for the purpose, but
this sort of fightin' will never make the world a better place to live
in. If the world ever gets to be the kind of a place you ask God for
when you pray, 'Thy kingdom come,' it's comin' by brains and hearts
instead of by claws and fangs. You can't shoot sense nor religion
into a man any more than you can beat daylight into the cellar with
a club. Take a candle in, and the thick darkness disappears; just so
give the people knowledge and their ignorance and intolerance and other
devilment will disappear. I haven't lived so powerful long yet, but
I have lived long enough to make up my mind that for the good of all
mankind books beat guns, Sonny."