evading the real meaning of the treaty and in securing a survey of the desired land at the mouth of the river. Black Hawk, exasperated and broken-hearted at seeing his village violated, persuaded himself that the village had never been sold-indeed, that land could not be sold. "My reason teaches me," he wrote, "that land cannot be sold. The Great Spirit gave it to his children to live upon, and cultivate, as far as is necessary, for their subsistence; and so long as they occupy and cultivate it they have the right to the soil, but if they voluntarily leave it, then any other people have a right to settle upon it. Nothing can be sold but such things as can be carried away.' Supported by this theory, conscious that in some way he did not understand he had been wronged, and urged on by White Cloud, the prophet, who ruled a Winnebago village on the Rock river, Black Hawk crossed the Mississippi in 1831, determined to evict the settlers. A military demonstration drove him back, and he was persuaded to sign a treaty never to return east of the Mississippi. "I touched the goose-quill to the treaty and was determined to live in peace," he wrote afterwards; but hardly had he "touched the goose-quill" before his heart smote him. Longing for his home, resentment at the whites, obstinacy, brooding over the bad counsels of White Cloud and his disciple, Neapope—an agitating Indian who had recently been east to visit the British and their Indian allies, and who assured Black Hawk that the Winnebagoes, Ottawas, Chippewas, and Pottawottomies would join him in a struggle for his land, and that the British would send him guns, ammunition, provisions, and clothing early in the spring-all persuaded the Hawk that he would be successful if he made an effort to drive out the whites. In spite of the advice of many of his friends and of the Indian agent in the country, he crossed the river on April 6, 1832, and with After a portrait by George Catlin, in the National Museum at Washington, D. C., and here reproduced by the courtesy of the director, Mr. G. Brown Goode. kiak, the Black Hawk Sparrow, was born in 1767 on the Rock River. Makataimeshekia some five hundred braves, his squaws and children, marched to the Prophet's town, thirty-five miles up the Rock river. As soon as they heard of Black Hawk's invasion, the settlers of the northwestern part of the State fled in a panic to the forts; and from there rained petitions for protection on Governor Reynolds. General Atkinson, who was at Fort Armstrong, wrote to the governor for reinforcements; and, accordingly on the 16th of April Governor Reynolds sent out "influential messengers" with a sonorous summons. It was one of these messengers riding into New Salem who put an end to Lincoln's canvassing for the legislature, freed him from Offutt's expiring grocery, and led him to enlist. There was no time to waste. The volunteers were ordered to be at Beardstown, nearly forty miles from New Salem, on April 22d. Horses, rifles, saddles, blankets were to be secured, a company formed. It was work of which the settlers were not ignorant. Under the laws of the State every ablebodied male inhabitant between eighteen and forty-five was obliged to drill twice a year or pay a fine of one dollar. "As a dollar was hard to raise," says one of the old settlers, "everybody drilled." Preparations were quickly made, and by April 22d the men were at Beardstown. The day before, at Richland, Sangamon County, Lincoln was elected captain of the company from Sangamon. According to his friend Greene it was something beside ambition which led him to seek the captaincy. One of the "odd jobs" which Lincoln had taken since coming into Illinois was working in a saw-mill for a named Kirkpatrick. In hiring Lincoln, Kirkpatrick had promised to buy him a to buy him a cant-hook with which to move heavy logs. Lincoln had proposed, if Kirkpatrick would give him the two dollars which the canthook would cost, to move the logs with a common hand spike. This the proprietor had agreed to, but when pay-day came he refused to keep his word. When the Sangamon company of volunteers was formed Kirkpatrick aspired to the captaincy, and Lincoln knowing it, said to Greene: “Bill, I believe I can make Kirkpatrick pay me that two dollars he owes me on the cant-hook. I'll run against him for captain." And he became a candidate. The vote was taken in a field, by directing the men at the command "march" to assemble around the one they wanted for captain. When the order was given, three-fourths of the men gathered around Lincoln. In Lincoln's third-person autobiography he says he was elected "to his own surprise;" and adds, "He says he has not since had any success in life which gave him so much satisfaction." The company was a motley crowd of men. Each had secured for his outfit what he could get, and no two were equipped alike. Buckskin breeches prevailed, and there was a sprinkling of coon-skin caps. Each man had a blanket of the coarsest texture. Flint-lock rifles were the usual arm, though here and there a man had a Cramer. Over the shoulder of each was slung a powder-horn. The men had, as a rule, as little regard for discipline as for appearances, and when the new captain gave an order were as likely to jeer at it as to obey it. To drive the Indians out was their mission, and any order which did not bear directly on that point was little respected. Lincoln himself was not familiar with military tactics, and made many blunders of which he used to tell afterwards with relish. One of these was an early experience in giving orders. He was marching with a front of over twenty men across a field, when he desired to pass through a gateway into the next inclosure. "I could not for the life of me," said he, "remember the proper word of command for getting my company endwise, so that it could get through the gate; so, as we came near I |