Among the chiefs were several, who, although they shared the general hostile feeling of their tribe toward the Americans, yet retained a personal regard for the troops at this post, and for the few white citizens of the place. These chiefs exerted their utmost influence to allay the revengeful feelings of the young men, and to avert their sanguinary designs, but without effect.
On the evening succeeding the council Black Partridge, a conspicuous chief, entered the quarters of the Commanding Officer.
“Father,” said he, “I come to deliver up to you the medal I wear. It was given me by the Americans, and I have long worn it, in token of our mutual friendship. But our young men are resolved to imbrue their hands in the blood of the whites. I cannot restrain them, and I will not wear a token of peace while I am compelled to act as an enemy.”
Had further evidence been wanting, this circumstance would sufficiently have proved to the devoted band, the justice of their melancholy anticipations. Nevertheless, they went steadily on with the necessary preparations; and amid the horrors of their situation, there were not wanting one or two gallant hearts, who strove to encourage in their desponding companions, the hopes of escape they were far from indulging themselves.
Of the ammunition there had been reserved but twenty-five rounds, beside one box of cartridges, contained in the baggage-wagons. This must, under any circumstances of danger, have proved an inadequate supply, but the prospect of a fatiguing march, in their present ineffective state, forbade the troops embarrassing themselves with a larger quantity.
NARRATIVE OF THE MASSACRE CONTINUED
The morning of the 15th arrived. All things were in readiness, and nine o’clock was the hour named for starting.