The Indians continued to come and go on their nomadic excursions according to their habit, and while in this vicinity they lived in their wigwams near the river, their favorite camping place being at a point on the south bank near the present State Street bridge. A swale or gully opened into the river there, reaching back as far as the present line of Randolph Street. The movements of the Indians were regarded with great interest by the traders located in the neighborhood, who were anxious to sell them supplies in exchange for the furs brought in by them; they were regarded with interest also by the officers and men of the garrison, who desired to maintain peaceable relations with their savage neighbors.

But while furs were the principal article offered in payment for goods obtained from the traders, the Indians also brought in quantities of maple sugar put up in birch-bark packages, which usually found ready sale among the settlers. These packages were called "barks" by some and "mococks" by others, each of them containing from twenty-five to fifty pounds. Birkbeck says, in his Letters from Illinois, written in 1818, that maple sugar could be purchased from the Indians for about twenty-five cents a pound, which was about the same price as the coarse brown or "muscovado" sugar from Louisiana was sold for. In his book of reminiscences of early Chicago, Gale tells us that he remembers as a boy how he prized the granulated maple sugar which he bought from the squaws, "put up in small birch-bark boxes, ornamented with colored grasses, and in large baskets made of the same material, holding some twenty-five pounds." It was often called "Indian sugar." When the Indians visited the settlements it was their custom to wander about the streets in an aimless manner, stopping from time to time and taking a look into the window of any house they happened to be passing. The Indians, whether men, women, or children, would cover the tops of their heads with blankets to exclude the light, and press their faces against the window panes and gaze intently into the houses for long periods at a time, to the great discomfort and even terror of the people within. If they wished to enter a house they did not pause to knock, but stalked in and squatted on the floor, and none dared to resist them or to order them to depart from the premises. "You always heard a man come in," says Mrs. Baird, in her narrative, "as his step was firm, proud, and full of dignity. The women, however, made no sound."

There were several chiefs of the Potawatami tribe whose names are well known in the historic annals of that time. One of them was Black Partridge, often called "the Partridge"; there were also Winnemeg, or, as he was sometimes called, Winamac; Waubansee; Topenebe; Billy Caldwell, otherwise known as Sauganash or "the Sauganash," meaning Englishman, as he was an educated half-breed; and Alexander Robinson.

On account of the close and friendly relations existing between the whites and the Potawatamis, the latter were usually spoken of as "our Indians," to distinguish them from those tribes whose hunting grounds were at a greater distance. The Winnebagoes from the north were occasional visitors to the neighborhood, as were also tribes from the south,—Miamis and others,—who were generally referred to as "Wabash Indians."

When councils were held between the representatives of the Government and the tribes, to agree on a treaty, all those tribes were in attendance which could be allowed to have any claims to ownership of lands that were the subject of the treaties about to be made. At such assemblages, whenever they were held in the Western country, the Potawatamis were always found fully represented by their chiefs and a large number of their followers, insisting upon recognition of their claims; and they thus succeeded in getting the lion's share in the distributions made by the Government; and even though their claims were often vague and ill-defined they were always noisy and forward in asserting them. It thus happened that the Indians of the Potawatami tribe were greatly interested in keeping on good terms with the whites.

The Indians in their harangues described an assemblage held for purposes of deliberation as a place where a council fire was lighted; and in referring to the United States Government the Indian orators spoke of the States of the Union—which in 1811 were seventeen in number—as the nation of "the Seventeen Fires," that is, seventeen council fires.

In a former generation the Potawatamis were "French Indians" in their sympathies and trade relations; and this allegiance continued up to and even after the close of the French régime in 1763. They were reluctant to acknowledge the sway of the British during the period of their possession, but through the commanding influence of the New York Indians (the Iroquois or Six Nations) they kept the peace that was guaranteed by the Treaty of Fort Stanwix in 1768. This treaty was made between the English and the Iroquois with "their dependent tribes"; and it was understood that the said treaty bound the Western Indians, though afterwards the latter resented the proceedings. Narrowing the view to the Potawatami tribe, it appears that even while maintaining friendly relations with the Americans after the latter had succeeded to the sovereignty of the Western territories, the tribe was still to a certain extent under British influence. They shared in the gratuities annually distributed by the English at Maiden, Canada; and, as the event will show, they at length became the enemies of the Americans after the War of 1812 had begun.

There was a tract of land under cultivation some four miles southwest of the fort, situated on the west bank of the South Branch of the Chicago River, about where at the present time the old Illinois and Michigan Canal opens into that stream. This tract was owned by a man named Charles Lee, and the farm was known as "Lee's place."

On this tract stood a log cabin in which a number of men employed by Lee lived and carried on the work of the farm. Lee himself lived with his family in a house near the fort on the bank of the river opposite where it discharged into the lake; which was near the present intersection of Madison Street and Michigan Avenue. It will be remembered that in those days a long sand-bar prevented the river from finding an outlet directly in line with its course, and the current was forced to creep along close to the shore for some distance toward the south.

Lee's place was also known as "Hardscrabble," a name which continued to be applied to that neighborhood for many decades thereafter. "The name of 'Hardscrabble,'" it is said in a recent history of Chicago, "has always been a favorite one among pioneers to describe a place in which conditions of existence were hard and difficult. A place of that name was situated near Lewiston, New York, on the Niagara River, about the same period, and is mentioned in military despatches during the ensuing War of 1812; and in the State of Illinois the town of Streator was thus colloquially known during its earlier history." Before the Civil War, General Grant lived on a farm near St. Louis, where he built a log cabin with his own hands and called it "Hardscrabble." The same name was given to a work of fiction by Major John Richardson, with the subtitle "A Tale of Indian Warfare." This work takes the events which occurred at Lee's place and bases upon them a romance the details of which the author supplied largely from his imagination. Many other examples of the use of this name might be given.