Me-te-nay, the young orator of the Pottawattamies, was there, to make a poetic appeal for his race. But the counsels of the white chiefs were too persuasive and powerful. A treaty was concluded, which virtually gave up the Indian empire east of the Mississippi.
Then the chiefs and the warriors departed, their red plumes disappearing over the prairie in the sunset light. Before them rolled the Mississippi. Behind them lay the blue seas of the lakes. It was a sorrowful procession that slowly faded away. Some twelve years after, in August, 1835, another treaty was concluded with the remaining tribes, and there occurred the last dance of the Pottawattamies on the grounds where the city of Chicago now stands.
Five thousand Indians were present, and nearly one thousand joined in the dance. The latter assembled at the council-house, on the place where now is the northeast corner of North Water and Rush Streets, and where the Lake House stands. Their faces were painted in black and vermilion; their hair was gathered in scalp-locks on the tops of their heads, and was decorated with Indian plumes. They were led by drums and rattles. They marched in a dancing movement along the river, and stopped before each house to perform the grotesque figures of their ancient traditions.
They seemed to be aware that this was their last gathering on the lake. The thought fired them. Says one who saw them:
"Their eyes were wild and bloodshot. Their muscles stood out in great, hard knots, as if wrought to a tension that must burst them. Their tomahawks and clubs were thrown and brandished in every direction."
The dance was carried on in a procession through the peaceful streets, and was concluded at Fort Dearborn in presence of the officers and soldiers of the garrison. It was the last great Indian gathering on the lake.
A new civilization began in the vast empire of the inland seas with the signing of the Treaty of Chicago and these concluding rites. Around the home of pastoral John Kinzie were to gather the new emigrations of the nations of the world, and the Queen City of the Lakes was to rise, and Progress to make the seat of her empire here. Never in the history of mankind did a city leap into life like this, which is now setting on her brow the crown of the Columbus domes.
On the arrival of Jasper and Waubeno at Fort Dearborn, an incident occurred which affords a picture of the vanished days of the prairie chiefs and kings. There came riding up to the trading-houses a middle-aged chief named Shaubena.
This chief may be said to have been the guardian spirit of the infant city of Chicago. He hovered around her for her good for a half-century, and was faithful to her interests from the first to the end of his long life. If ever an Indian merited a statue or an imperishable memorial in a great city, it is Shaubena.
He was born about the year 1775, on the Kankakee River. His home was on a prairie island, as a growth of timber surrounded by a prairie used to be called. It was near the head-waters of Big Indian Creek, now in De Kalb County. This grove, or prairie island, still bears his name.