seen there existed deadly hatred between these two, and that Keokuk's
desire for peace with the whites alone postponed an outbreak. I knew
then but little of the cause. The Indian tongue was strange to me, and
the interpreter failed to make clear the under-lying motive, yet I
managed to gather that, in spite of treaty, Black Hawk refused to leave
his oldtime hunting grounds to the east of the river, and openly
threatened war. The commandant trusted Keokuk, with faith that his
peaceful counsels would prevail; but when Black Hawk angrily left the
chamber and my eyes followed him to his waiting canoe, my mind was
convinced that this was not destined to be the end--that only force of
arms would ever tame his savage spirit.

This all came back to me in memory as I sat there, searching out that
distant shore line, and picturing in imagination the restless Indian
camp concealed from view beyond those tree-crowned bluffs. Already
tales reached us of encroaching settlers advancing along the valley,
and of savage, retaliating raids which could only terminate in armed
encounters. Already crops had been destroyed, and isolated cabins
fired, the work as yet of prowling, irresponsible bands, yet always
traced in their origin to Black Hawk's village. That Keokuk could
continue to control his people no longer seemed probable to me, for the
Hawk was evidently the stronger character of the two, possessed the
larger following, and made no attempt to conceal the depth of his
hatred for all things American.

Now to my view all appeared peaceful enough--the silent, deserted
shores, the desolate sweep of the broad river, the green-crowned
bluffs, the quiet log fort behind me, its stockaded gates wide open,
with not even a sentry visible, a flag flapping idly at the summit of a
high pole, and down below where I sat a little river steamboat tied to