myself; I did not wear
feathers; but I was bold and not afraid to fight, so I became a brave.

"The Osages were our enemies, and I went with my father and many more
to fight. I saw my father kill an enemy, and tear away the scalp from
his head. I felt determined to do the same. I pleased my father; for,
with my tomahawk and spear, I rushed on an enemy. I brought back his
scalp in my hand.

"I next led on seven of our people against a hundred Osages, and
killed one. After that, I led on two hundred, when we killed a
hundred, and took many scalps. In a battle with the Cherokees my
father was killed. I painted my face black, and prayed to the Great
Spirit, and did not fight any more for five years; all that I did was
to hunt and to fish.

"The Osages had done us great wrong, so we were determined to destroy
them. I set off, in the third moon, at the head of five hundred Sacs
and Foxes, and one hundred Ioways. We fell upon forty lodges. I made
two of their squaws prisoners, but all the rest of the people in the
lodges we killed. Black Hawk killed seven men himself. In a battle
with the Cherokees, I killed thirteen of their bravest with my own
hand.

"One of our people killed a pale-face American, and he was put in
prison; so we sent to St. Louis, to pay for the killed man, and to
cover the blood. Did the pale faces do well? No, they did not; they
set our man free, but when he began to run they shot him down; and
they gave strong drink to our four people, and told them to give up
the best part of our hunting ground for a thousand dollars every
twelve moons. What right had they to give our men strong drink, and
then cheat them? None.

"American white faces came, with a great, big gun, to build a fort,
and said it was to trade with us. They treated the Indians ill: we
went against the fort. I dug a hole in the ground with my knife, so
that I could hide myself with some grass. I shot with my rifle and cut
the cord of their flag, so that they could not pull it up to fly in
the air; and we fired the fort, but they put out the fire.

"One of our people killed a white, and was taken. He was to die, but
asked leave to go and see his squaw and children. They let him go, but
he ran back through the prairies next day, in time to be shot down. He
did not say he would come back, and then stay; he was an Indian, and
not a white man. I hunted and fished for his squaw and children when
he was dead.

"Why was it that the Great Spir