“Did you hear that, Bob?” cried Joseph. “Deerfoot says he saw Black Hawk himself out there.”
“You did?” cried Robert excitedly to Deerfoot. “Show him to me and let me take a shot at him.”
“Me take shot at him,” said Deerfoot. “No hit him though. He gone now.”
“All the others seem to be leaving too,” exclaimed Joseph, after a careful glance out of the porthole which he was guarding.
Sure enough, the Indians did appear to be withdrawing. Their fire was slackening and they evidently were convinced that the sacrifice necessary to take the fort would not be worth while. Everywhere they appeared to be retreating. Loud yells of triumph sounded from sturdy little Apple River Fort as its defenders saw their enemy moving away.
The white men did not escape loss, however. Even from the fort the Indians could be seen pillaging the nearby houses and barns. Cattle and horses that could not be moved inside the stockade were being driven away, and the Indians were loading the horses with bags of provisions taken from the storehouses of the settlers.
“That can’t be helped, I’m afraid,” remarked Captain Stone when he heard what was going on. “We still have our lives and we ought to count ourselves lucky. Certainly they are worth more than a few cattle and some provisions.”
Everyone else seemed to share this view, though at first a few of the more daring ones had been eager to sally out and continue the contest. They were soon persuaded that such an undertaking would be foolhardy, however, and were content to remain where they were.
Joseph still had his dispatches for Colonel Strode and he was at a loss as to what he should do about them. Finally he decided to ask Captain Stone.
“Don’t even think of going now!” exclaimed that officer, when Joseph asked his opinion about pushing on that night. “Why, it’s almost dark now and you don’t know how many of those Indians are still lurking about. I consider that you’ve done enough for today. By all means wait until morning before you even consider leaving here.”