CHAPTER II.

MINNEOBA’S WARNING.

It was a woman of the Sac nation, but bearing unmistakable signs of white blood. Her form might almost have vied with that of Sadie, and her dark skin glowed with perfect health. Her hair was unlike that of any pure Indian girl, slightly waving, and with a luster upon it never seen in the pure Indian. Her dress was of the richest description that was worn by the women of the tribe, and her head was crowned by a coronet of eagle-feathers, which bespoke the daughter of a chief. Dainty feet, small hands and delicate features distinguished the maid from the majority of her race, and all together, two more noble specimens of native grace rarely trod the same floor.

“By the piper that played while the king danced, if it ain’t Minneoba, the pride of the Sac nation,” cried Cooney Joe. “Say, gal, what ye doin’ ’round yer?”

“Minneoba has traveled a long path, and she is weary,” replied the Indian girl, faintly. “Let the Wild Rose give her food and drink.”

Sadie, who was much taken by the rare beauty of the forest maid, seated her at once at the table and placed food before her. She passed over the few dainties which the table afforded, and ate the most simple food, and her appetite was soon gratified. Joe whispered aside with Mr. Wescott.

“I tell you that the gal is the favorite daughter of Black-Hawk,” he whispered, “an’ she’s got some good reason fur bein’ hyar. But don’t hurry her, for I know the breed and she’s obstinit, durned obstinit, when she hez a mind to, though she’s a good gal, too.”

In the mean time the Indian girl was chatting merrily with her new friend, and her musical laugh rung through the cabin.

“Whisper to Sadie to git her confidence, Mr. Wescott,” muttered the hunter. “She kin do it. The gal is open-hearted as the day, and ef she means friendship she _means_ it.”

Wescott called Sadie aside and spoke to her in a low, hurried tone, and nodding intelligently, the white girl returned to the side of the Indian girl, and soon after the two rose and went out of the cabin, strolling down by the river side. Minneoba had her fan in her hand, more from habit than any thing else, and they walked along the green banks, talking earnestly.

“Minneoba is the daughter of Black-Hawk,” said the maiden, in answer to a question, “and she loves her father well. The heart of the old man is very sad, for he sees the white men forcing the Indian step by step out of the land their fathers gave them. Look down and tell me what you see.”

Close to the bank of the stream not far away a succession of low mounds of different sizes showed where the ancient grave-yard of a tribe had been. Not far from this a white village was seen, the farms of the settlers encroaching upon the graves.

“When we bury the bodies of those we love, daughter of the white man, it is not pleasant to think that the feet of the strangers tread upon the graves. The Indians are rough and rude, but they too love the graves of their fathers, and it makes them sad to think that the plow of the white man will disturb the loved remains.”

“It is very sad, but I have heard that Keokuk sold this land to our people.”

“Keokuk has done wickedly,” cried the girl, excitedly. “It is a false Indian who treads upon his father’s grave, or allows the white man to do it. A Sac despises the man who is so base.”

“What will the Indians do?”

“What they will do is not for an Indian girl to say; their hearts are very sore, but they would be friends with the white men, if the white men will let them. But fire-water and bad men will make trouble in the land. Tell the people of the village that it would be better for them to give up the Sac town and build for themselves upon another place.”

In order to understand the words of Minneoba fully, it will be necessary to set down the history of the events which finally drove Black-Hawk to desperation.

By the treaty entered into by the United States upon one side and the Sacs and Foxes, Siouxs, Omahas, Iowas and Ottoes upon the other, headed by Keokuk, or the Watchful Fox, the land of these tribes was sold to the United States. In this bargain and sale Black-Hawk took no part, but in spite of that the Indian agents insisted that he should leave his village, which without his consent had been sold to the whites, and build another upon the west bank of the Mississippi.

No race love their native land better than the Indian, and Black-Hawk was of the pure blood. He cursed the traitors who had sold their country, but vowed that he would not leave his village until compelled to do so by force. Every little disturbance between wandering white men and the tribes, every slight affair of whatever kind was magnified and turned against the Sac chief. Yet he only sought to do what was right, and prevailed upon Keokuk, who had made the treaty, to go to the white agents, with whom it had been made, and offer them in the name of the Sacs the lead mines, the most valuable property of the Indians, if they might be permitted to retain their village. The Watchful Fox, satisfied that he had sold that which was not his own, agreed to go, and ask for Black-Hawk the little land on which the village stood, including the grave-yard of the tribe. It was refused.

It was the custom of the western tribes at this date to go out in winter in a body and have a great hunt. Black-Hawk went away at the head of his tribe with secret misgivings, and the village was left unguarded. This was the winter of 1830, and when the Indians came back from their hunt they found their village in the possession of the whites, who had taken advantage of their absence to take possession. The river was yet full of floating ice, and it was impossible for the Indians to move, but they sent word to the invaders that before corn-planting they would drive them out of the village, no matter at what cost to themselves.

The whites were alarmed, for they felt their inability to oppose the tribe with their present number. A deputation was sent to the chiefs, proposing that they should occupy and plant the land together. The Indians, always generous in the disposal of land, agreed to the proposal, but upon arriving they found that the whites had seized and planted the best of the land.

The peaceful village became one of the most disorderly upon the frontier. With the whites came in their vices, and the Indians, naturally weak, began to feel their effects. The sale of liquor was commenced, and by its aid the whites gradually robbed the Indians of all that they could call their own.

The chief saw with alarm what must be the result, when they received orders to cross no more to the east bank of the river. The result of such an order may be readily understood, rousing all the fierce passions of the Indians, and in this state matters stood at the time when Minneoba visited the cabin of Mr. Wescott.

The Indians were now nearly all upon the west bank of the river, the chiefs preferring this to longer intercourse with the white men. These simple men were no match for their wily antagonists, and had too rapidly imbibed their vices. Black-Hawk was an Indian, but he had a heart to feel for the woes of his people, and he saw that only by force of arms could he hope to succeed in wresting his country from the hand of the invader.

“Is it possible that my father’s land belongs to the Indians?” said Sadie. “He paid for it honestly, and would not willingly wrong any man.”

“The Wild Rose speaks truly. Her father has a great heart, but he holds the land which belongs to Black-Hawk.”

“Then he will pay for it again, sooner than wrong a chief of the Sacs.”

“Black-Hawk will not sell his lands to a white man. Let the words of Minneoba sound in the ears of Wild Rose. This is no place for her to dwell. Let her get a swift horse and fly away until the tempest has passed, for a dark cloud hangs over her father’s house and threatens her.”

“I have done no wrong; why should I flee?”

“My sister, the evil will come to the just and the unjust, for Black-Hawk will have his land again. Do not ask me to tell you more, for a Sac maiden can not betray her father, but take those you love and fly.”

While yet speaking, the rapid beat of hoofs could be heard, and two men rounded a point of woods and approached them. At a glance Sadie recognized Black Will and a desperate ruffian who was more than suspected of selling arms to the Indians, a great offense upon the frontier. This man’s name was Richard Garrett, and he was hated and feared all along the border.

“Ha, look!” cried Minneoba. “Yonder comes a bad white man, who has spoken evil words in the ears of Black-Hawk. What does he here?”

“Let us hurry away,” whispered Sadie. “He is my enemy, and I fear to meet him now.”

The two girls darted into the bushes, but not quickly enough to evade the eyes of the two men, who at once urged their horses and overtook the flying girls.

“Ha, my dear,” said Black Will, placing himself in front of Sadie, and effectually barring her further flight. “I did not expect to meet you so soon.”

“Do not stop me, Will Jackwood,” cried Sadie. “You have been punished once to-day for your insolence. Joe Bent is not far away.”

“He is safe from me for this day, for he has my word,” replied Black Will. “But, when we meet again, one or the other goes down.”

“Threats do not hurt the absent,” was the quiet reply. “Let me pass at once.”

“Not so fast. I shall not have a better opportunity than this, and must entreat you to come with me.”

Unconsciously, in their walk, the girls had come some distance from the house, and at that quiet hour few persons were abroad. Sadie understood the object of Black Will. It was to seize and carry her away for the purpose of forcing her to become his wife. He sprung out of the saddle, and menacing her with instant death if she cried out, hurried toward her, when a new and unexpected obstacle stood in his path. Minneoba had been almost unnoticed by the two scoundrels, and seeing that Dick Garrett was employed in holding the horses, the brave girl suddenly strung her bow, and fitting an arrow hastily, sprung in between Black Will and his intended victim, and he recoiled with a cry of rage, as the bright point of the arrow glittered in the light.

“Minneoba, by all the devils! Out of my path, girl, or a worse thing may come to you.”

But Minneoba did not move, her bright eyes fixed upon the form of the would-be abductor in a way which he did not like.

“Sadie is the friend of the Sac girl,” she said, quietly. “You shall not touch her while I live.”

“You don’t know what you are doing, mad girl. What will your father say when he knows that you have aimed an arrow at my breast—_mine_, of all white men in the territory!”

“It would be better for Black-Hawk if you had never seen him,” replied the girl. “Take your horse and go, for I will spare your life if you do not touch the Wild Rose; touch her, and you are dead.”

Black Will was a brave man, but he knew well the deadly skill of the Indian girl, and had seen it proved a hundred times in sportive encounters in the Indian village. Though full of rage, he dared not advance.

“But listen to me, Minneoba,” he said. “This girl is to be my wife; I love her, and would take her into my lodge.”

“Let me hear her say that she loves _you_, and the Sac girl will not come between you. Stand back, or the arrow flies from the string.”

“You shall suffer for this, girl. Black-Hawk shall know how his daughter claims for a friend the daughter of the man who holds his land. We shall see how he likes that.”

“Minneoba can talk to Black-Hawk; she does not need the white hunter to tell her what to say.”

“She’s a bu’ster, Will,” said Dave Garrett, laughing. “I reckon you had better give it up. Come, little girl, don’t be foolish. Get out of the way, for my sake.”

Minneoba did not move, and the arrow was still ready to fly.

“Hark, Will! There come horses. Let’s get out of this as quick as we can.”

Black Will, shaking his clenched hand at the immovable figure of the Indian girl, sprung into the saddle, and the two men rode away at the top of their speed. They were scarcely out of sight when a party of mounted riflemen came up at a trot, but, seeing the two girls, they halted, and the leader dismounted and came toward them. He was a young, handsome fellow, in a fringed hunting-coat, booted and spurred, and wearing the insignia of Melton’s mounted rifles, to show that he was captain of scouts. He lifted the cap gracefully from his head, and bowed low as he approached.

“Captain Melton of the mounted rifles, by way of introduction. May I ask if you have seen any thing of a man known in this region as Dick Garrett?”

“He rode away five minutes since in company with William Jackwood.”

“The deuce he did! Excuse me, Miss, which way did he go?”

Sadie pointed out the road, and with a hasty adieu the young officer bounded into the saddle and the command went off at full speed, with Melton at their head. Sadie had noted that his dark eyes had rested admiringly upon her, and she was herself struck by his noble appearance, and Minneoba laughed softly. She could see that the two had met before.

“The young white chief is very brave. Sadie could love him!”

“Nonsense, you foolish girl,” said Sadie, blushing. “I have only seen him twice before, and probably shall never see him again. Let us return to the house.”