"We surrender!" White Bear shouted. "We are not armed. We have come to talk to General Atkinson."
"Listen to that, he's talking English," a blond boy exclaimed.
Another man yelled, "Shoot 'em. Then let 'em surrender."
White Bear's knees trembled against his horse's flanks. These were not regular U.S. government soldiers, but the volunteers, the armed settlers who had come out in answer to their governor's call. They would not wait for orders from their commanders. They would do whatever they felt like doing.
A red-bearded man stuck his face in White Bear's. "Get down off that horse, Injun! Now!" His shout blew a stink of whiskey into White Bear's face.
Others joined the outcry. "Get off them horses!"
"Ought to put a bullet in them right here in the creek."
"Look at them black faces. I thought they was niggers at first."
"Not even useful like niggers, damn redskins."
The man with the red beard grabbed White Bear's arm and jerked him half out of his saddle. White Bear slid down from his horse.