Sustained honor: The Age of Liberty Established

by John R. Musick

A young savage sprang at Mrs. Helm, whose horse had been shot, and raised his tomahawk to strike her. She instantly sprang aside, and the blow intended for her head, fell upon her shoulders. She thereupon seized him around his neck, and, while exerting all her efforts to get possession of his scalping knife, was seized by another Indian and dragged forcibly from his grasp. The latter bore her, struggling and resisting, toward the lake. Notwithstanding, however, the rapidity with which she was hurried along, she recognized, as she passed, the form of the unfortunate doctor stretched lifeless on the prairie. She was plunged into the water and held there, despite her resistance, with a strong hand. It soon became evident, however, that it was not the intention of her captor to drown her, as he took care to keep her head above the water. Thus reassured, she gave him a careful look and recognized him, despite his disguise, as "Black Partridge, the white man's friend." It was this friendly savage who had warned Captain Heald to beware of the march. Through the interpreter he said:

"Linden birds have been singing in my ears to-day; be careful on the march you are going to take."

The troops, having fought with desperation until two-thirds of their number were slain, the remainder, twenty-seven in all, borne down by an overwhelming force, and exhausted by efforts hitherto unequaled, at length surrendered. They stipulated, however, for their own safety and for the safety of their remaining women and children. The wounded prisoners, however, in the hurry of the moment were forgotten, and were, therefore, regarded by the Indians as having been excluded.

[ILLUSTRATION: IT SOON BECAME EVIDENT THAT HE DID NOT INTEND TO DROWN HER.]

One of the soldiers' wives, having been told that prisoners taken by the Indians were put to terrible tortures, resolved from the first not to surrender. When a party of savages approached her, she fought with desperation, although assured of kind treatment, and, exciting the anger of the Indians, was killed and left on the field. After the surrender, twelve children in one of the baggage wagons were slain by a single savage.

Mrs. Rebecca Heald, the young captain's wife, like Mrs. Helm was mounted on a horse. She carried a rifle with which she shot a savage dead. During the massacre, an Indian, with the fury of a demon in his countenance, advanced to her with his tomahawk raised. She had been accustomed to danger and, knowing the temper of the Indians, with great presence of mind, looked him in the face and, smiling, said:

"Truly, you will not kill a squaw?"

His arm fell powerless at his side. The conciliating smile of an innocent female, appealing to the magnanimity of a warrior, reached the heart of the savage and subdued the barbarity of his soul.

Captain Heald and his wife, by the aid and influence of To-pa-na-hee and Kee-po-tah, were put into a bark canoe and paddled by the chief of the Pottawatomies and his wife to Mackinaw, three hundred miles distant, along the eastern coast of Lake Michigan, and delivered to the British commander. They were kindly received and afterward sent as prisoners to Detroit, where they were finally exchanged.

Lieutenant Helm was wounded in the action and taken prisoner. He was afterward taken by some friendly Indians to Au Sable, and from thence to St. Louis, and was liberated from captivity through the intervention of Mr. Thomas Forsyth, an Indian trader. Mrs. Helm was slightly wounded in the ankle, and had her horse shot from under her, when assailed by the savage from whom Black Partridge rescued her. After passing through many trying scenes and ordeals, she was finally taken to Detroit and subsequently joined her husband. The soldiers, with their wives and children, were dispersed among the Pottawatomies on the Illinois, the Wabash and the Rock Rivers, and some were taken to Milwaukee. In the following spring, they were principally collected at Detroit and ransomed. A part of them, however, remained in captivity another year, and during that period experienced more kindness than they or their friends had expected.