Fort Winnebago was not picketed in; there were no defences to the barracks or officers' quarters, except slight panelled doors and Venetian blinds—nothing that would long resist the blows of clubs or hatchets. There was no artillery, and the Commissary's store was without the bounds of the Fort, under the hill.
Mr. Kinzie had, from the first, called the attention of the officers to the insecurity of their position in case of danger, but he generally received a scoffing answer.
"Never fear," they would say; "the Sauks are not coming here to attack us."
One afternoon we were over on a visit to some ladies in the garrison, and, several officers being present, the conversation, as usual, turned upon the present position of affairs.
"Do you not think it wiser," inquired I of a blustering young officer, "to be prepared against possible danger?"
"Not against these fellows," replied he, contemptuously.
"I do not think I would even take the trouble to fasten the blinds to my quarters."
"At least," said I, "if you some night find a tomahawk raised to cleave your skull, you will have the consolation of remembering that you have not been one of those foolish fellows who keep on the safe side."
He seemed a little nettled at this, and still more so when sister
Margaret observed,—
"For my part, I am of Governor Cass's opinion. He was at Chicago during the Winnebago war. We were all preparing to move into the fort on the first alarm. Some were for being brave and delaying, like our friends here. 'Come, come,' said the Governor, 'hurry into the fort as fast as possible—there is no merit in being brave with the Indians. It is the height of folly to stay and meet danger which you may by prudence avoid.'"