Their fears were greatly aggravated by a report, brought by some traveller, that he had slept at night on the very spot where the Sauks breakfasted the next morning. Now, as the Sauks were known to be reduced to very short commons, there was every reason to suppose that if the man had waited half an hour longer, they would have eaten him; so he was considered to have made a wonderful escape.
Our immediate friends and acquaintances were far from joining in these fears. The utter improbability of such a movement was obvious to all who considered the nature of the country to be traversed, and the efficient and numerous body of whites by whom they must be opposed on their entrance into that neighborhood. There were some, however, who could not be persuaded that there was even any security but in flight, and eagerly was the arrival of the “Mariner” looked for, as the anxiety grew more and more intense.
The “Mariner” appeared at last. It was early in the morning. In one hour from that time, the fearful news she brought had spread the whole length of “the bay.” The cholera was in this country! It was in Detroit—it was among the troops who were on their way to the seat of war! Whole companies had died of it in the river St. Clair, and the survivors had been put on shore at Fort Gratiot, to save their lives as best they might! We were shut in between the savage foe on one hand and the pestilence on the other![[109]]
To those who had friends “at the East,” the news was most appalling. It seemed to unman every one who heard it. A relative, an officer who had exhibited the most distinguished courage in the battle-field, and also in some private enterprises demanding unequalled courage and daring, was the first to bring us the news. When he had communicated it, he laid his head against the window sill and wept like a child.
Those who wished to rejoin friends near and dear, left “the bay” in the “Mariner”; all others considered their present home the safest, and so it proved, for the dreadful scourge did not visit Green Bay that season.
The weather was intensely hot, and the musquitoes so thick that we did not pretend to walk on the parade after sunset, unless armed with two fans, or green branches to keep constantly in motion, in order to disperse them. This, by the way, was the surest method of attracting them. We had somehow forgotten the apathetic indifference which had often excited our wonder in old Smoker, when we had observed him calmly sitting and allowing his naked arms and person to become literally gray with the tormenting insects. Then he would quietly wipe off a handful, the blood following the movement of the hand over his skin, and stoically wait for an occasion to repeat the movement. It is said that the mosquito, if undisturbed until he has taken his fill, leaves a much less inflamed bite than if brushed away in the midst of his feast.
By day, the air was at this season filled with what is called the Green Bay fly, a species of dragon-fly, with which the outer walls of the houses are at times so covered that their color is hardly distinguishable. Their existence is very ephemeral, scarcely lasting more than a day. Their dead bodies are seen adhering to the walls and windows within, and they fall without in such numbers that after a high wind has gathered them into rows along the sides of the quarters, one may walk through them and toss them up with their feet like the dry leaves in autumn.
As we walked across the parade, our attention was sometimes called to a tapping upon the bars of the dungeon in which a criminal was confined—it was the murderer of Lieutenant Foster.
It may be remembered that this amiable young officer had been our travelling companion in our journey from Chicago the preceding year. Some months after his arrival at Fort Howard, he had occasion to order a soldier of his company, named Doyle, into confinement for intoxication. The man, a few days afterward, prevailed on the Sergeant of the Guard to escort him to Lieutenant Foster’s quarters on the plea that he wished to speak to him. He ascended the stairs to the young officer’s room, while the sergeant and another soldier remained at the foot, near the door.
Doyle entered, and addressing Lieutenant Foster, said, “Will you please tell me. Lieutenant, what I am confined for?”