and would have been quiet in
my lodge; for, while I was away, Kee-o-kuk had been made a chief: but
I had to revenge the death of the son of my old friend. I told my
friend so when he was dying. Why should Black Hawk speak a lie? I took
with me thirty braves, and went to Fort Madison; but the American pale
faces had gone. I was glad, but still followed them down the
Mississippi. I went on their trail. I shot the chief of the party with
whom we fought. We returned home, bringing two scalps. Black Hawk had
done what he said.

"Many things happened. Old Wash-e-own, one of the Pottawatomies, was
shot dead by a war chief. I gave Wash-e-own's relations two horses and
my rifles to keep the peace. A party of soldiers built a fort at
Prairie du Chien. They were friendly to us, but the British came and
took the fort. We joined them; we followed the boats and shot
fire-arrows, and the sails of one boat were burned, and we took it.

"We found, in the boats we had taken, barrels of whiskey: this was bad
medicine. We knocked in the heads of the barrels, and emptied out the
bad medicine. We found bottles and packages, which we flung into the
river as bad medicine too. We found guns and clothes, which I divided
with my braves. The Americans built a fort; I went towards it with my
braves. I had a dream, in which the Great Spirit told me to go down
the bluff to a creek, and to look in a hollow tree cut down, and there
I should see a snake; close by would be the enemy unarmed. I went to
the creek, peeped into the tree, saw the snake, and found the enemy.
One man of them was killed, after that we returned home: peace was
made between the British and Americans, and we were to bury the
tomahawk too.

"We went to the great American chief at St. Louis, and smoked the pipe
of peace. The chief said our great American father was angry with us,
and accused us of crimes. We said this was a lie; for our great father
had deceived us, and forced us into a war. They were angry at what we
said; but we smoked the pipe of peace again, and I first touched the
goose quill; but I did not know that, in doing so, I gave away my
village. Had I known it, I would never have touched the goose quill.

"The American whites built a fort on Rock Island; this made us sorry,
for it was our garden, like what the white people have near their big
villages. It supplied us with plums, apples and nuts, with
strawberries and blackberries. Many happy days had I spent on Roc