The paper was a pass from the general in command, saying that the old man was a peaceful, friendly Indian.
But the soldiers were too much excited to pay any attention to the pass.
“Kill him! Scalp him! Shoot him!” they cried, running for their weapons.
They were enlisted to fight Indians, and here was an Indian—perhaps Black Hawk himself. They were not going to let him escape.
“Me good Injun! Big White Chief says so—see talking paper,” protested the Indian, again offering them the paper.
“Get out! You can’t play that game on us. You’re a spy! Shoot him! Shoot him!” the soldiers shouted.
A dozen men leveled their rifles ready to fire. The others handled the old Indian so roughly and made so much noise over their prize that they aroused the captain.
“What is all the trouble about?” he demanded, coming from his tent.
His glance fell on the frightened Indian, cowering on the ground.
Dashing in among his men, he threw up their weapons, and shouted, “Halt! Hold on, don’t fire! Stop, I tell you!”