"Those Sand Hills from behind which the Pottawatomies fired upon the whites are quite gone now, are they not, papa?" asked Grace.
"Yes," replied Captain Raymond, "the city now covers the entire theatre of the events of that dreadful day. It has been a rapid and wonderful transformation."
"Don't you think, papa, it might have been saved—I mean Fort Dearborn—if Captain Heald had not been so obstinately determined to do as he thought best, regardless of the opinions of his officers and Mr. Kinzie, and the warnings of friendly Indians?" asked Grace.
"I do, indeed," was the emphatic reply. "And that Mackinack, which fell into the hands of the British about a month earlier, might have been saved to our country but for the criminal neglect of the then Secretary of War. Hancks, who was in command, did not know, had not heard of the declaration of war, though he might have been informed of it nearly a week earlier than the news reached the British commander of Fort St. Joseph, who led the attack, and by reason of the ignorance of the garrison and its commander of the true state of affairs came upon them so unexpectedly that they had no opportunity to defend the fortress."
"Oh, tell us the story of it, papa, please!" pleaded little Elsie, and drawing her to a seat upon his knee, he complied at once.
"The fort was built in the first place by the French," he said, "and taken from them by the English when they conquered Canada. The Indians were not pleased with the change and said to the English, 'You have conquered the French, but you have not conquered us.' Perhaps you may remember what I told you some weeks ago about the attack of the Indians upon the people in the fort. The Indians were playing ball outside the walls of the fortress, and, pretending to be very friendly, invited the garrison to view the game. It was a gay and exciting scene, and the unsuspicious members of the garrison were looking on with interest, forgetting to be on their guard against treachery, when a ball went up in a lofty curve and fell near the pickets of the fort.
"It was a preconcerted signal; the warriors instantly rushed toward the fort, armed with hatchets which their squaws had concealed under their blankets, and the whites being taken by surprise, a dreadful massacre followed.
"The following year the fort was again garrisoned by the English, the Indians fleeing at their approach. After the Revolutionary War—in 1796—the island with its fort came into possession of the United States, the western military posts being surrendered to the Americans by the British, and in 1812 the fortress, then called Fort Holmes, was garrisoned by fifty-seven men under the command of Lieutenant Hancks of the United States Artillery. As a defence of the fur-traders and the scattered settlements of the Northwest, it was a very important post. You doubtless remember that it stands on a bluff overlooking the harbor."
"It is a beautiful place in the summer," remarked Grace, "but must be dreary enough through the long winters."
"It is," said her father, "yet by no means so dreary now as it was in those days, surrounded by hordes of savages ever ready to raise the hatchet in the pay of those who seemed to be the stronger party.