"Were the Kinzies with them?" asked Grace.
"Mr. Kinzie was, hoping by his personal influence to be able to soften, if not avert their impending fate. His family had left in a boat, in charge of a friendly Indian who was to take them to his other trading station, where Niles, Mich., now stands. Poor Mrs. Kinzie! having a daughter among the seemingly doomed ones, how terribly anxious and distressed she must have been!" added Grandma Elsie in tones tremulous with feeling. A moment of silence followed, then she went on with her narrative.
CHAPTER III.
"The procession, escorted by the five hundred Pottawatomies, moved slowly along the lake shore in a southerly direction till they had reached the Sand Hills between the prairie and the beach. There the Indians filed to the right, so that the hills were between them and the white people.
"Wells and his mounted Miamis, who were in the advance, came suddenly dashing back, their leader shouting, 'They are about to attack us: form instantly!'
"The words had scarcely left his lips when a storm of bullets came from the Sand Hills. The Pottawatomies, both treacherous and cowardly, had made of those hills a covert from which to attack the little band of whites.
"The troops were hastily brought into line, charged up the hill, and one of their number, a white-haired man of seventy, fell dead from his horse, the first victim of the perfidy of the Indians hounded on by the inhuman Proctor, a worse savage than they.
"The Miamis proved cowardly and fled at the first onset. Their chief rode up to the Pottawatomies, charged them with perfidy, and brandishing his tomahawk told them he would be the first to lead Americans to punish them; then, wheeling his horse, he dashed away over the prairie, following his fleeing companions.