HARDSCRABBLE; or, The Fall of Chicago
A Tale of Indian Warfare

by John Richardson




CHAPTER I.

It was on a beautiful day in the early part of the month
of April, 1812, that four persons were met in a rude
farm-house, situated on the Southern Branch of the Chicago
river, and about four miles distant from the fort of that
name. They had just risen from their humble mid-day meal,
and three of them were now lingering near the fire-place,
filled with blazing logs, which, at that early season,
diffused a warmth by no means disagreeable, and gave an
air of cheerfulness to the interior of the smoke-discolored
building.

He who appeared to be master of the establishment was a
tall, good looking man of about forty-five, who had,
evidently, been long a denizen of the forest, for his
bronzed countenance bore traces of care and toil, while
his rugged, yet well-formed hands conveyed the impression
of the unceasing war he had waged against the gigantic
trees of this Western land. He was habited in a
hunting-frock of grey homespun, reaching about half way
down to his knee, and trimmed with a full fringe of a