“I guess that’s true enough,” laughed Robert. “I’m glad to see that old rabbit, too. I suppose he was hiding from the fire as well as we were.”
“Yes,” said Deerfoot. “He hid. Me find him though.”
The two brothers set to work collecting such wood as they could find in the gully and that had escaped the flames; Deerfoot at the same time was busily engaged in skinning the rabbit.
In a short time a fire had been kindled and the odor of roast rabbit filled the air. The meat was delicious, somewhat similar to chicken in flavor, and soon only bones remained to testify that a rabbit had once been near that spot.
Frequently Deerfoot scanned the horizon with a watchful eye and the day was spent in talk and rest. As darkness once more stole over the land, Deerfoot gave the word and again the three fugitives set out on their tramp to Dixon’s Ferry.
CHAPTER VIII
AN INDIAN LEGEND
Two days later they reached their destination. The journey had been a hard one and it was with a great feeling of relief that the three wearied travelers entered the small settlement on Rock River at Dixon’s Ferry. On their way they had endured many hardships. Driving rainstorms on the prairies had drenched them to the skin and often they had been forced to flounder their way through deep marshes and swamps.
They had crossed the old Sac trail to Canada on their journey. This tribe, years before, had made its way into Illinois and Wisconsin through the lower Michigan peninsula, its original home being north of the Great Lakes. Deerfoot explained this fact to his young friends, who evinced much interest at the sight of the old Indian highway. From Black Hawk’s village on the Mississippi it ran east to the Illinois River which it crossed several miles north of Hennepin where the river turns almost at right angles. Thence it led along the river to the shores of Lake Michigan and then continued northward into Canada.
At Dixon’s Ferry there was much bustle and excitement. Over three hundred men were gathered there under the command of Majors Isaiah Stillman and David Bailey. All volunteers they were and made a reckless, dare-devil force. They had been resting several days and were all impatient at the delay. They were equipped with an abundance of ammunition and supplies, and could see no reason why they should not be allowed to start at once in pursuit of Black Hawk and his band of warriors.
The two brothers and their Pottowattomie ally were enthusiastically received by these men, especially so when Joseph told of the massacre of his family, and how eager they were to avenge it. Fresh clothes had been at once provided for the new members of the battalion, for they had lost no time in enlisting. A tent was assigned to them and a hearty meal provided.