The Pottawattamies had been very good friends with the soldiers and the dwellers about. But when they heard that General Hull had ordered that the property in the fort was to be distributed among the Indians they secretly joined the marauding bands, though they promised a safe-conduct to those within. Captain Wells ordered the whiskey to be poured into the river, and the powder to be destroyed, knowing the liquor would make fiends of the savages. So one August day they started, women, children and wagons, guarded by the soldiers; but when they had gone a mile or so from the fort, they found themselves almost surrounded by Indians, the remnants of various tribes that had not moved to the reservation, and the Pottawattamies joining them, the dreadful massacre occurred. A number were carried prisoners to St. Joseph.
Mrs. Heald, who had brought with her from Kentucky, on her marriage, a beautiful mare, which had aroused the envy of two Indian chiefs, who had made several attempts to steal it, rode out of the fort, but as soon as the raid was made she was forced to dismount and see her favorite in the hands of the savages, and she was led back to the fort a prisoner, while her husband was killed and treated with cruel indignity. Then the Indians took possession of the fort and held pandemonium for a few days. Afterward the Indians went off to attack Fort Wayne.
We rambled about the fort that had been rebuilt later on, and was now being evacuated for the second time, the victories over the rambling bands of Indians having made the country quite secure. Ruth Gaynor had heard of massacres in her native State not less cruel.
"But Mrs. Heald and her beautiful horse?" she queried with pathos in both eyes and voice.
"No money could buy it back. Some Indian chief thought too highly of his four-footed prisoner to give it up. Mrs. Heald, badly wounded, for she had fought bravely for her freedom, was left for a few days with an Indian trader at St. Joseph's and was finally permitted to return to Louisville. Some of the prisoners were taken up to Michigan and given their liberty on the recapture of Detroit. The fort was set on fire and made a heap of ruins. Several of the prisoners returned, but for a long while the station was well-nigh deserted by immigrants."
It looked deserted now. A drooping flag waved over it, but there was no glitter of arms or soldiery tread of sentinels. Business was taking the place of picturesque romance.
"You know," Ruth said in an awed voice, "there are stories of ghosts appearing. Did no one ever see Mrs. Heald on her beautiful horse riding out, or around?"
It was growing toward night now, and the drifting clouds had obscured the sunset. The lake stretched off weird and dark. We had climbed some steps and now we looked and listened and then glanced at each other. The spirited form of the woman who had fought for her life should have appeared.
"Come, we must go home," I said. I was conscious of a curious impression stealing over me.
"I should like to see her," Ruth said longingly. "I do not think I should be a bit afraid."