sippi, miles
and miles of wonderful fertile land just begging for the plow. And too
much of it is growing nothing but prairie flowers, because I can't get
enough people to come and work it for me. They're afraid of Indians!"

"Treat the Indians fairly and there would be nothing to fear," said
Lincoln.

"Treat them fairly and they'll just continue to attack our settlements."

"I'd like to think you're wrong, Mr. de Marion."

"Why the hell did you volunteer for the militia, if you don't like
killing Indians?"

Lincoln smiled faintly. "Well, a war record won't hurt when I make a run
for the legislature."

Just another slimy politician. Same as Bennett.

A bluebelly, a blue-uniformed officer of the Federal army, pushed
through the tent flap. He doffed his tall, cylindrical shako.

"General Atkinson's compliments, Colonel de Marion. We're breaking camp
and moving on up the Rock River in pursuit of Black Hawk and his band.
And he asks you to once again take up the lead position."

"How does the general know where the Sauk are?" he asked irritably.

"A couple of Winnebago known to the general came into camp and offered
to guide us, sir. They say Black Hawk and the Winnebago Prophet are
leading their people upriver to try to persuade the Potawatomi to join
them. Black Hawk's whole band, except for the warriors, are on foot. The
general thinks that if we ride hard we can catch them."

Lincoln held out his hand and shook again with Raoul.

"Thank you for the whiskey, sir."

"Thank you for turning that pistol aside."

Lincoln grinned. "Colonel, thank _you_ for sparing that red man. I'll be
going now, or by the time we finish thanking each other, Black Hawk will
be in Checagou."

When Raoul emerged from his tent he saw that the Potawatomi prisoners
were gone. He felt a surge of fury that someone had turned them loose
without his permission. He still longed to put a ball into the skull of
that sneaking Little Foot.

_The next Indian who falls into my hands won't be so lucky._

By the time the men of his spy battalion had struck their tents and
mounted up, he had decided on half a loaf of revenge. Seated on Banner,
he held up a burning stick.

"All right, men, the Winnebago who lived here have joined up with Black
Hawk. They're running ahead of us. Let's not leave them anything to come
back to."

He drew his arm back and snapped it forward. The torch flew end over end
and landed on the bark roof of the nearest