CHAPTER XXX
CONCLUSION
John Mason had wished for Black Hawk’s capture. His wish was fulfilled and as fortune would have it, he, Deerfoot and both Joseph and Robert were present when the great chief was delivered into the hands of his enemies.
After the battle of Bad Axe the volunteers were mustered out of service and the fighting came to an end. All resistance on the part of the Indians had been broken, and out of a thousand Sacs who had crossed the Mississippi and invaded the settlements in April, only a hundred and fifty now remained. Black Hawk had escaped, but Indians of hostile tribes were put on his trail and at length succeeded in capturing him.
On the twenty-seventh day of August, 1832, John Mason, Deerfoot, Joseph and Robert were at Prairie du Chien. This was not far from the scene of the last battle and the four friends were still in that vicinity, chiefly because they had no other place to which they might go. At least the two brothers had no home, and Deerfoot would leave them under no conditions. John Mason remained with his young friends, thinking he might still be of service to them, and could offer them advice as to starting life afresh.
They were all talking to the Indian Agent, a man named Street, and were seeking his knowledge of the country in the hope he might be able to help them in the selection of a new home. Suddenly a commotion started outside and everyone rushed to see what the cause of the excitement was. Into the streets of the town marched two Winnebagos, Chaetar and One-eyed Decorah by name. Between them and with head held high, walked Black Hawk.
“Black Hawk is captured!” cried Mason. “There he is now!”
Everyone in the crowd surged forward to obtain a glimpse of the famous redman and Joseph and Robert were in the very first row. Straight to the office of the Indian Agent the old warrior was led and then Agent Street came forward to meet him.
Black Hawk was indeed an imposing figure. He was clad in a suit of white doeskin. His hair was all plucked out with the exception of the scalp-lock and in that were fastened some eagle’s feathers. He was short in stature, as he was only about five feet four or five inches tall. His face was thin, with the high cheek bones characteristic of his race. His mouth was large and when in repose his lips remained slightly parted. He had a prominent nose of what is called the Roman type. His eyes were bright and piercing, but with a thoughtful expression in them. He had no eyebrows and his forehead was high and broad. His head he kept thrown back and his pose gave the impression of dignity and of one accustomed to command.
“He’s not very beautiful,” whispered Robert. “He looks smart, though.”
“He is smart,” exclaimed John Mason. “He certainly led us a dance.”