IN CAMP
“Just look at them!” exclaimed Joseph. “There must be a thousand of
them.”
“Sixteen hundred you said, didn’t you, Walt?” inquired Robert turning to
their friend as he spoke.
“Not mounted, I think,” replied the trapper. “I guess the rest are
coming up the river in boats and won’t be here for some time.”
“Well, with this crowd we ought to be able to subdue Black Hawk all
right,” exclaimed Joseph eagerly. “Do you suppose we’ll have to wait for
the rest of the troops?”
“I hope not,” said Walt. “Here it is the twelfth of May already and we
should have had the whole thing over with by this time, in my opinion.”
As the three volunteers stood talking the horsemen rode into camp.
General Whiteside was in command and it was soon learned that, as Walt
had said, the remainder of the force was coming up the river under the
lead of General Atkinson. General Whiteside had previously been in
command of frontier rangers and had earned the reputation of being a
splendid Indian fighter.
“Any regulars with you?” inquired Walt of one of the men who had just
arrived.
“No,” replied the men, “we’re all volunteers. General Atkinson is
following with them. He has about four hundred regular infantry and some
three hundred volunteer footmen. He is coming up the river by boat with
cannon, provision and most of the baggage.”
“When did they start?” asked Robert.
“Three days ago; the same time we did.”
“From Fort Armstrong?” Robert inquired.
“Yes,” said the soldier. “The people on the river are having a bad time
of it, too, I’m afraid. The water is very high and it will be hard work
to make their way against the current. There are so many rapids, too.”
“Did you find the traveling bad?” Walt asked.
“Yes, quite bad. We came slowly, too, and made a stop at the Prophet’s
town as well. It was absolutely deserted.”
“Who is the Prophet?” questioned Robert.
“His name is Wabokieshiek,” explained Walt. “He is the man who has been
urging Black Hawk on all this time. You know all Indians are
superstitious and these medicine men and prophets exert great
influence.”
“The Prophet has been encouraging Black Hawk to make war you mean?”
inquired Joseph.
“Yes,” Walt answered, “that’s just what he has been doing. As I
understand it he has promised Black Hawk large reinforcements from the
Winnebagos, Pottowattomies and Kickapoos and that when he has all their
help he will surely beat the whites.”
“The Prophet probably lied,” Robert exclaimed.
“Of course he did,” agreed Walt. “I don’t think that those other tribes
will help the Sacs one bit. Certainly they won’t if they learn how many
men we have here.”
“I know one Pottowattomie who won’t join him anyway,” said Robert.
“Who is that?”
“Deerfoot.”
“By the way, where is he?” exclaimed Joseph suddenly. “I haven’t seen
him in a long time.”
“Perhaps he has already joined Black Hawk,” said Walt, and he laughed in
an insinuating manner as he spoke.
“Don’t you say that!” cried Joseph hotly. “Deerfoot is the best friend
that Bob and I have left on earth and I don’t want him slandered.”
“No, sir!” chimed in Robert. “If ever there was a man more faithful than
Deerfoot, I’ve never seen him or heard of him. You may take our word for
it that he can always be counted on.”
“He certainly has two loyal supporters all right,” laughed Walt. “If you
boys are so sure he’s all right, I guess I’ll have to believe you.”
“You’d better,” exclaimed Joseph. “Now let’s go look for him,” he added.
Their soldier friend had disappeared. His horse needed care and he had
gone to report at headquarters and receive his orders. General
Whiteside’s division had but a scanty store of supplies and were forced
to depend upon those which had been collected at Dixon’s Ferry.
Fortunately they were believed to be fully adequate.
“There is a lot of feeling among our men about joining General
Whiteside, you know,” said Walt as the three volunteers walked along.
“You mean among those who were here before he arrived?” Joseph asked.
“Yes, I don’t care much about it either. We want to fight in our own
way, and, personally, I don’t see why we should be tied down to the
regular levies. I had hoped we’d go on without them.”
“We could act as scouts or rangers,” Robert suggested.
“That’s just my idea,” Walt exclaimed. “We could push on ahead and see
what is going on and act independently of the others. There are three
hundred and more of us and that seems to me to be enough.”
“We’ll hear something soon anyway, I guess,” said Joseph.
“I think so,” agreed Walt. “I must leave you for a while now,” he added.
“I’ll drop around to your tent a little later.”
The two brothers continued on their way. It was an interesting and
exciting experience for them to see and feel the bustle and hustle of a
military camp and to know that they were part of it. Horses were
tethered under all the trees, tents sprang up on all sides as if by
magic, while everywhere men were busy with the thousand and one duties
of camp life.
Soon the boys came to their own tent and entered. Deerfoot, however, was
not there and this fact caused the brothers no little worry.
“Where do you suppose he is?” said Joseph anxiously.
“I wish I knew,” replied Robert. “I don’t see how anything could happen
to him right here in camp though.”
“Unless there are a lot more people like Walt who think all Indians are
bad. Most of these men do think that, too, I’m afraid. Perhaps if they
saw Deerfoot roving around here they might lock him up or something.
Someone is almost sure to insult him.”
“That’s true,” said Robert. “Suppose we go out and look for him. He may
be in trouble and need help.”
They stepped outside the tent, and immediately their gaze fell upon a
sight that not only allayed their fears but made them almost dance with
delight. Deerfoot was approaching the tent, astride the back of one
horse, while he was leading two others by their bridles. He rode
beautifully and seemed almost a part of his mount as he cantered up to
the place where the two brothers were standing.
“Where did you get the horses?” cried Joseph as Deerfoot pulled up his
mount and came to a stop in front of the tent.
“Major Stillman,” said the Indian.
“He gave them to you?” exclaimed Robert.
“One for each,” replied Deerfoot.
“Say,” cried Robert excitedly, “that is what I call pretty fine! Where
are the saddles though, Deerfoot?”
“No more saddles,” he answered. “Me lucky to get horses.”
“I should say so,” said Joseph. “What do you want of a saddle anyway?
You might think you didn’t know how to ride a horse the way you talk. We
have bridles and a blanket. Isn’t that enough?”
“It is for me. I was just asking on your account,” and Robert winked at
Deerfoot as he spoke. Horsemanship was a part of the education the boys
had acquired from their Indian teacher and was a lesson they had learned
as well as they had the others he had taught them. That was saying a
great deal, too, for Deerfoot was a master who insisted that his pupils
should always learn their lessons well.
“As though I couldn’t beat you riding any time!” retorted Joseph hotly.
“I leave it to Deerfoot to decide which is the better rider.”
The question was not settled, however, for at this moment Walt come
riding up to the place where they were standing in front of their tent.
“Those your horses?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Joseph. “Deerfoot got them for us from Major Stillman.”
“Good for him,” exclaimed Walt heartily. “I tried to get some from him
myself, but he said he had no more horses. Deerfoot must have influence
with the major.”
“Me get last t’ree horses,” announced Deerfoot.
“That’s fine!” said Walt heartily. “You’ll all need horses and need them
soon, too.”
“What do you mean by soon?” Robert asked curiously.
“Tomorrow morning.”
“What!” exclaimed the two young soldiers in one breath.
“We start after Black Hawk the first thing tomorrow,” said Walt, smiling
at the effect of his announcement.
Deerfoot made no sign and the expression of his face remained the same,
but into his eyes crept a light that showed he, too, was glad to be on
the trail of Black Hawk. Unconsciously his hand fingered the knife in
his belt.
“Tell us about it,” urged Joseph. “Who is going and how does it happen
that we start before General Atkinson arrives?”
“Only the ones who were here before General Whiteside arrived are to
go,” Walt explained. “That means us, of course. Major Stillman is to be
in command and we are to act as a scouting party.”
“Someone must have overheard what we said this afternoon,” laughed
Joseph.
“Seems so, doesn’t it?” Walt agreed. “Anyhow we’re going and I must say
nothing has pleased me so much in a long while. We’re off at last and we
won’t have all those others bother us and interfere with our plans. I
feel just as if I was starting on a big lark.”
“Tomorrow’s the thirteenth, isn’t it?” inquired Robert solemnly.
“So it is,” laughed Walt. “Don’t worry about that though. I’m not
superstitious and you needn’t be, either. No harm will come to us on
this trip and the only results of it will be a lot of fun for us and a
few less braves for Black Hawk.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Robert. “I’ve always had a queer feeling
about the thirteenth though. I wish we weren’t going until the day after
tomorrow or were going to start tonight.”
“That’s what would just suit me,” exclaimed Walt. “I’d like to start
tonight, all right. We won’t find Black Hawk tomorrow probably so there
will be no fighting on the thirteenth anyway, and that will kill all the
bad luck you’re afraid of.”
“No, it won’t,” protested Robert. “The point is that we start on the
thirteenth. That is what counts.”
“Well, I wouldn’t let it worry me,” laughed Walt. “I must be off now,”
he added. “I’ll see you at daylight tomorrow.”
He slapped his horse on its flank and galloped away. Robert and Joseph
drew lots as to which should have first choice of horses. Joseph won and
made his selection, if such a thing was possible. The horses were both
splendid animals and apparently there was little to choose between them.
At any rate, both boys were very well satisfied with their mounts.
Darkness was now coming on and dinner time drew near. While the meal was
being prepared the boys watered and fed their new mounts. Then they
rubbed them down and tethered them for the night. This done, they
quickly turned their attention to the food which Deerfoot had prepared.
“It will seem good to be the one doing the chasing for a while, won’t
it?” remarked Joseph when their meal was over. “I was getting sort of
tired of running away all the time and I’ll be glad to see someone else
run for a change.”
“Yes, indeed,” agreed Robert heartily. “And when we get astride those
horses whoever gets away from us will have to be pretty fast.”
“The Indians will be mounted too, won’t they, Deerfoot?” inquired Joseph
of their comrade.
“All ride,” grunted Deerfoot. “Good horses, too.”
“That’s all right,” said Robert confidently. “They won’t be as good as
ours and we’ll catch them all right.”
For some time they sat and discussed what was to happen on the morrow,
and then they prepared to turn in. A short time later they were sound
asleep, and, strange to say, both boys dreamed of desperate encounters
with Black Hawk and his band. None of the struggles ever came to a
definite end, however, and if such things were really to happen the next
few days would have to disclose the result of these combats.