“Black Hawk has turned his war parties loose on the settlements.”
“He did that long ago,” said Joseph. “Bob and I know that from bitter experience.”
“I know you do,” exclaimed Mason. “I guess you have caught it as hard as anyone, but it’s going to be worse than ever now. Since Black Hawk chased us away so easily, I guess he has become conceited and thinks that nothing can hold him back.”
“That’s what we said would happen,” Joseph remarked.
“Well, it’s true,” continued Mason. “Several reports have come in already of people being murdered.”
“Near here?” inquired Robert.
“Yes, quite near. Yesterday morning they killed a man just north of here. He was a minister and was on his way to Chicago. It seems he was in the habit of traveling around through the settlements in the course of his work. He was a queer looking old fellow, with a beard that was nearly a yard long. I remember him well, for he used to come around my part of the country as well as here. Two nights ago he stopped over night with a family who warned him that suspicious Indians were in the neighborhood. They all left the house and hurried off to safe places, but he stayed on. He said he wasn’t afraid and that he didn’t think the Indians would harm him anyway. So he stayed. One of the sons returned home the next morning to get something that had been forgotten, and found the poor old fellow scalped and his head almost severed from his body. Isn’t that horrible?”
“I should say it is,” agreed Joseph, shuddering at the thought.
“Where did you hear about it?” asked Robert.
“The son who returned home told me. He hurried right from there to Dixon’s and wants to enlist. He says this business must stop.”