To our infinite joy we saw the Chief of the party dismount, and all the others following his example, and approaching to shake hands.
A space was soon cleared around the leader and my husband, when the former commenced an oration, flourishing his sword and using much violent gesticulation. It was the first time I had seen an Indian armed with that weapon, and I dreaded to perceive it in such hands. Sometimes he appeared as if he were about to take off the head of his auditor at a blow, and our hearts sank as we remembered the stratagems at Mackinac and Detroit in former days. At length the speech was concluded, another shaking of hands took place, and we saw my husband leading the way to his storehouse, from which some of his men presently brought tobacco and pipes, and laid them at the feet of the Chief.
Our suspense was soon relieved by being informed that the strangers were Man-Eater, the principal Chief of the Rock River Indians, who had come with his band to “hold a talk,” and bring information.
These Indians were under the special care of Mr. Henry Gratiot,[[103]] and his efforts had been most judicious and unremitting in preserving the good feeling of this, the most dangerous portion of the Winnebagoes.
The intelligence that Man-Eater, who was a most noble Indian in appearance and character, brought us, confirmed that already received, namely, that the Sauks were gradually drawing north, towards the Portage, although he evidently did not know exactly their whereabouts.
There was, soon after their departure, an arrival of another party of Winnebagoes, and they requested permission to dance for their father.
The compliment having been accepted, they assembled, as usual, on the esplanade in front of the house. My sister, the children and myself, stationed ourselves at the open windows, according to custom, and my husband sat on the broad step before the door, which opened from the outer air directly into the parlor where we were.
The performance commenced, and as they proceeded, following each other round and round in the progress of the dance, my sister, Mrs. Helm, remarked to me, “Look at that small dark Indian, with the green boughs on his person—that is a Sauk! They always mark themselves in this manner with white clay, and ornament themselves with leaves when they dance!” In truth, I had never seen this costume among our own Indians, and as I gazed at this one, with a green chaplet round his head and his legs, and even his gun wreathed in the same manner, while his body displayed no paint except the white transverse streaks with which it was covered, I saw that he was, indeed, a stranger. Without owing anything to the exaggeration of fear, his countenance was truly ferocious. He held his gun in his hand, and every time the course of the dance brought him directly in front of where we sat, he would turn his gaze full upon us, and club his weapon before him with what we interpreted into an air of defiance. We sat as still as death, for we knew it would not be wise to exhibit any appearance of fear, but my sister remarked in a low tone, “I have always thought that I was to lose my life by the hands of the Indians—this is the third Indian war I have gone through, and now, I suppose, it will be the last.”