Now I have the most unpleasant part of my story to tell.  After the Indians had crossed the river and were almost defenseless, having lost most all their guns and ammunition in crossing the river, our army put a band of these merciless Sioux on their trail who, knowing how perfectly helpless they were, were glad of the opportunity to destroy them.  I will give the account of this terrible massacre as given by a squaw, who had lived with a white man by the name of Nathan Smith.  I knew them both well.  She said her brother, by the name of Wishita, a fine looking man and a chief of considerable standing, was wounded while crossing the Mississippi, but he, with great exertion, reached the western shore.  Here the bank being steep, she tried to get him out, but could not succeed, and was obliged to leave him behind her on account of her company, which was already in advance of her.  She had crossed the river on a pony, carrying her child, about a year old, before her.  They hurried on, fearing an attack of our army, or an attack of the Sioux, as they were now in their country.  They had traveled that day and night and until the latter part of the next day, without food, when they succeeded in killing some game, and camped for the night.  That night they, for the first time in many weary days and nights, had plenty to eat.  They had camped in a valley and the morning was very foggy.  They had eaten an early breakfast and were about starting on their journey, she just mounting her hourse, when the Sioux with a great noise, whooping and yelling, broke into their camp, killing large numbers of them regardless of age or sex.  She rode off as fast as her horse could possibly go, carrying her child before her.  She said the motion of her horse was so hard on her child she thought for some time it was dead, and looked for some thick bush or weeds that she could throw it in to hide it from the Sioux.  She knew by keeping a southern course it would bring her to her friends.  After traveling more than 200 miles without another human being save her child, without food and expecting hourly to be overtaken by her enemies, she at last found a trail where Keokuk had been out on a buffalo hunt.  Following this trail it brought her to the Indian village on the Iowa river. This last battle fought on the Mississippi was the noted battle of Bad Axe and Black Hawk, feeling that he and his people were thoroughly overcome did not cross the river but went up the river and gave himself up to the Winnebagoes, who brought him a prisoner to Prairie du Chien.  Black Hawk's son, Seoskuk, Neapope, Pashpahaw, the stabbing chief, and several of the principal men, accompanied him to prison.  They were sent to Washington about the latter part of the summer, where they remained until the next spring, when they were set at liberty and started on their return home, passing through New York city.  President Jackson and a paty of friends happened to be with Black Hawk on their way to New York and General Jackson's friends complained that the Indians diverted the attention of the people too much from the president.  There was a great demonstration in New York at that time and the Indians received much attention.  Many of the ladies kissed Seoskuk, which was a matter of little comment, as one rarely meets so fine a specimen of humanity in a life-time.  The ladies took their rings off their fingers and gave them to the Indians.  Black Hawk showed me some of the rings and said he had fifty just as fine.  From New York they went by the canal to Buffalo, through the lake to Green Bay, up the Fox river, down the Wisconsin to its mouth and down the Mississippi to Rock Island.  Here, fortunately, I happened to meet Black Hawk, and he was unusually talkative.  He told me of their trip to Washington, of the crowds of people they saw in New York, and showed me some of the many presents he had received on the journey.  He told me of the great wonder of seeing a man go up in a balloon.  He said the man had a great knife in his hand (meaning a sword) which he waved back and forth and then he went up, up, up, and looking and pointing up, he said "Panoche! Panoche!" meaning a great way off.  He was in good spirits, expecting to reach his family the next day. Major Garland, of the army, under whose charge they had traveled, being instructed to secure a kind reception for them from their nation, sent a messenger to advise Keokuk of their arrival.  Keokuk was encamped on the Iowa shore of the river, about twenty miles below, and although Black Hawk and his party were his enemies, he determined to give them a respectful and cordial reception.  A message was returned to that effect; and at noon the following day the dull sound of the Indian drum proclaimed the approach of the chief.  He, with his three wives, in two canoes lashed together with a canopy over them, followed by many of his braves, came up the river to the foot of the island and then landed on the right bank, where they remained painting and dressing themselves for some time.  Keokuk, followed by his braves, crossed the river and before coming to Black Hawk's camp said to them:  "The Great Spirit has sent our brothers back; let us shake hands in friendship."  On reaching the spot where Black Hawk and his friends were encamped, they found them seated in front of their tent, silent and motionless - doubtful, perhaps, of the reception that would be given them.  Keokuk extended his hand to Black Hawk and then to the rest of his party, without speaking, his followers imitating his example, and then the whole company seated themselves on the ground.  No one spoke, each waiting until the chief should break the silence.  After about fifteen minutes Keokuk asked Black Hawk how long he had been on the way, adding that he had been expecting him and was on his way to meet him when he heard of his arrival.  The next day, in the council Black Hawk thanked Major Garland for his kindness.  He said:  "I and my son, and all our party, thank our Great Father for what he has done.  He is old, I am old; we shall soon go to the Great Spirit, and be at rest.  He sent us through his great villages.  We saw many white men and were kindly treated.  We thank them - say to them we thank them.  We thank you for treaveling with us.  Your path was long and crooked.  We never saw so many white men before; but when with you, we felt as safe as if among friends.  When you come to the Mississippi again you shall come to my lodges; now I have none.  On your road home you will pass where our village once was.  No one lives there now - all are gone.  I give you my hand; we may never meet again, but we shall remember you.  The Great Spirit will be with you and your wives and children.  I will shake hands with my brethren here and then I am done."  Black Hawk thanked Keokuk and his nation for their attention to his wife and children, as they had given them shelter when they had none, and had protected them while he was far away.  He felt happy to have escaped with so slight punishment, as when he gave himself up he hardly knew what would be the result.  It must have been quite humiliating to the old man to have to yield up all his rights as head of the nation to a young man like Keokuk.  Sad must have been his heart when he said, "I will listen to Keokuk.  I will soon be far away, where I shall have no village, no band - I shall be alone."  Still we must admire the generous course Keokuk pursued with him, when, in after years, they took a trip together, taking in their course all the principal eastern cities.  They, with other Indians, were sitting in council in the presence of the secretary of war, when Keokuk arose and said:  "There is one here who does not belong to the council, but he has been accustomed to sit with us at home and is our friend; we have brought him here with us and hope he will be welcome." Black Hawk lived until the year 1838, when he died on the 3d of October at his village on the Des Moines river and his body was disposed of, at his special request, after the manner of the chiefs of his tribe.  He was placed upon the ground, in a sitting posture, his hands grasping his cane.  They usually made a shallow hole in the ground, sitting the body in up to the waist, so the most of the body was above ground.  The part above ground was then covered by a buffalo robe, and a trench about eight feet square was dug aobut the grave.  In this trench they set picketing about eight feet high, which secured the grave against wild animals.  Not long after Black Hawk died some one, more troubled with phrenology than reverence, took his head and carried it away, which so distressed his family that his sons came into Burlington to Governor Lucas, who was then governor of the territory of Iowa, to see if the government would not have it restored to them.  But they did not succeed in getting it. When I first came here there were quite a number of these high picketings still standing, where their chiefs had been buried, and the body of a chief was disposed of in this way while I lived near their village.  The common mode of burial was to dig a shallow grave, wrap the body in a blanket, place it in the grave and fill it nearly full of dirt; then take split sticks about three feet long and stand them in the grave so that their tops would come together in the form of a roof; then they filled in more earth so as to hold the sitcks in place.  I saw a father and mother start out alone to bury their child about a year old.  They carried it by tying it up in a blanket, and putting a long stick through the blanket, each taking an end of the stick.  I have also seen the dead bodies placed in trees.  This is done by digging a trough out of a log, placing the body in it and covering it.  I have seen several bodies in one tree.  I think when they are disposed of in this way it is by special request, as I knew of an Indian woman who lived with a white family, who desired her body placed in a tree, which was accordingly done.  Doubtless there was some particular superstition attached to this mode, though I do not remember to have heard what it was. Our nearest neighbor living fifty miles southeast from here, on the old mining road leading from Beardstown to Galena, where the road corssed Henderson river, was an old man by the name of Atwood, an Englishman by birth.  I do not consider him a fair representative of an old settler, but as many who lived here in early times have come in contact with him I cannot forbear to give him a passing notice.  He said he was a lord in England and when he took ship for America great crowds of people gathered to see him safely started.  His fame had reached New York in advance of his arrival and large numbers were gathered kneeling on the shore to receive him.  He told them to stand up, as he was only a man.  Mr. Atwood's settlement there was a year or two before ours here, so we had occasion to do some trading with him in his farm products.  After a few months' traffic with him he sent us word that he had all the paper money he could secrete, and as paper money was liable to be stolen or burned up, if we continued to trade with him we would have to bring either gold or silver, which he could bury in the ground.  In stopping with him he told me of a remarkable cure he had performed upon a man where gangrene had set in.  Among a great many eminent physicians who had visited this man and given him up as incurable, was Dr. Franklin.  I said to him that I did not know that Dr. Franklin practiced medicine.  His wife spoke up and said:  "Yes he did, all through North Carolina, where I lived."  I asked the old man how many hogs he had.  He hesitated some time and began to make excuses.  His hogs "had strayed away and were lost - the Indians had killed a good many - and now he only had about 700 left."  There were not 700 hogs within twenty miles of him.  One of his neighbors by the name of McGee, a blacksmith, was at work in his shop at a very difficult job.  Being a good deal plagued with his work, the old man came in and began telling some of his long yarns, when McGee stopped his work and addressed the old man in this way:  "I make it a practice to believe some men because they tell the truth, others to accommodate them, but," bringing out an oath, said:  "I won't believe you upon any consideration."  He said he was not troubled again for a long time with the old man.  His neighbors said they had calculated the time it would take to do the different things he had done and the different places he had lived, and the number of years he had stayed in each place, and ascertained he was over a thousand years old, being the oldest man we have any record of. I now feel it now only a duty but a great pleasure to make some mention of the old settlers of Rock Island county.  I came to the state at such an early day and traveled over it so extensively, making my home at two different times in very new parts of the state, that I had a great opportunity of judging of frontier life and of frontier men.  Of all my knowledge of the settlement of the state our old settlers were the most intelligent and best informed of any who came under my notice.  There have been some statements made about us, which have had a large circulation, in regard to our abusing the Indians and whipping their women, which are basely false, or if not, never came under my notice.  Our relation to the Indians, after the first summer, was very peculiar.  We have had a good title to our lands from the government, felt that we were entitled to be protected in our rights, while the Indians claim the lands to be theirs with just as much assurance.  Under such conflicting circumstances, losing the greater part of our crops, being compelled, a part of the time, to stay in the fort for safety, we lived almost three seasons together without any serious outbreak among us, which seems to me to be flattering to both whites and Indians.  I feel that the old settlers of Rock Island county are very nearly related to me.  Our privations and hardships brought us very near to each other, and I cannot but sympathize in the sorrows of each old settler, and rejoice in his well doing. Debbie Clough G-erischer G-erischer Family Web Site http://gerischer.rootsweb.com/ Assistant CC, Iowa Gen Web, Scott County http://www.celticcousins.net/scott/ List Manager for: IASCOTT-L * G-erischer-L * D-encker-L Fitzpatirck-L * V-lerebome-L * Huntington-L * Otis-L * Algar-L EIGS-L * Pickens-L * McNab-L * Patris-L - Rankin-L