In the meantime the ranger Bowles was killed. Before the alarm had been given, the boys, Edwin Allen, Chauncy Durgee, John Ewing, and John McLane were bathing in the creek. When the firing began Benjamin Allen galloped up, took his son Edward on the horse, and telling the other boys to hide, rode off. The little fellows lost no time in hurrying out of the water, and finding on the bank a large hollow log, crawled into it. Black Hawk, in turning from the pursuit of Dixon, heard the noise and sprang upon the log. Chauncy Durgee afterward said that he looked through a knot-hole and saw the Indian, who seemed to be looking him right in the eye, but that he turned off without discovering them.

Black Hawk said that he saw the boys, but thought of his own boys at home, and let them escape. Dixon soon recovered his horse, and found Durgee and attempted to help him mount, but the latter being severely wounded and scalped, had partially lost the use of his reason, and could not be made to comprehend what was desired of him. Finally he took hold of the horse's tail, and Dixon made him understand that he was to hold fast and travel as rapidly as he could. After going about a hundred yards his hold relaxed and he fell back. Dixon being hard pressed made his escape. Black Hawk and his companions came across Durgee. He says, "The latter was staggering like a

drunken man all covered with blood. This was the most terrible

sight I had ever seen. I told my comrades to kill him to put out of his misery; I could not look at him."

FIGHT NEAR FORT HOWARD.

Not long after the foregoing incident a rise took place in the Mississippi River, and the back water came up from Cuivre along the bluff. A party from Fort Howard went out in three skiffs for some purpose. They had not gone far before they were fired upon by a party of Black Hawk's band, and seven men killed, among whom was George Burnes, son of James Burnes, who settled on Sandy Creek, as already mentioned. The survivors put back, and the Indians rejoined Black Hawk. The latter expected an attack and formed his men in line, himself standing boldly in front. This was scarcely done before the rangers, who had heard

the firing from the fort, were seen advancing with great impetuosity, led by Capt. Craig. Black Hawk took deliberate aim and fired, and Capt. Craig fell dead from his horse. The rangers never halted, but fired as they advanced and killed five of the bloodthirsty savages. Then, without taking time to reload, the Indians retreated into a sink-hole, the bottom of which was covered with bushes, which afforded protection from the fire of the rangers. They also dug holes with their knives in the sides. of the depression, which gave them a pretty safe shelter. A desultory firing from both sides was kept up for some time. William McCormick, one of the rangers, declared that he was going to kill an Indian, and that he would shoot him in the mouth. He carried out the boast exactly, he and several others going up to the edge of the sink-hole for that purpose. The others fired without effect. The fire was returned, killing Lieut. Spears on the brink and mortally wounding McCormick.

Black Hawk thus continues the narrative: "Some of my warriors commenced singing their death-songs. I heard the whites talking and called to them to come out and fight. I did not like my situation, and wished the matter settled. I soon heard chopping and knocking; I could not imagine what they were doing. Soon after they ran up wheels with a battery on it, and fired down without hurting any of us. I called to them again, and told them if they were brave men to come down and fight us. They gave up the siege and returned to the fort about dusk. There were eighteen in this trap with me. We all got out safe, and found one, white man dead on the edge of the sinkhole. They could not remove him for fear of our fire. We scalped him and placed our dead man upon him. We could not have left him in a better situation than on an enemy. The "battery" was a keg of powder, to which was attached a fuse, and placed on the fore wheels of a wagon. This was run up to the brink, and intended to be pushed down into the midst of the Indians, but it exploded prematurely. The abandonment of the siege, which had continued from early in the day, was the result of a false alarm. This sink-hole was not a great distance from the fort, and is only a few yards from the Chain of Rocks and Cap-au-Gris road. Near by is a large spring, known to this day

as the Black Hawk Spring. When the rangers returned to the fort, some of them brought the head of one of the fallen savages and stuck it upon a pole. Being without an officer, and in need of re-enforcements, they sent for Capt. Whiteside, who came the next day and had the pole taken down and the head buried. Black Hawk and his party abandoned their canoes and returned to Iowa by land, taking with them only two scalps, those of Durgee and Lieut. Spears. The body of the Lieutenant was found where he fell, with the dead Indian sitting astride it.

MASSACRE OF THE O'NEAL FAMILY.

Chauncey Durgee, one of the boys who hid in the log as before mentioned, moved to Canton, in this State, and died some years ago. John Ewing, who was one of his companions in the log, was a son of William Ewing, who, when his wife died, divided out his children, giving the youngest, Willie, a boy not quite two years old, to Mrs. O'Neal, whose husband had moved a few years before to a place three miles above Clarksville. At the beginning of the war O'Neal and his neighbors were engaged in building a stockade, where Clarksville now stands. On returning home in the evening O'Neal saw the hogs dragging some object down the path, quite a distance from the cabin. It was the body of his eldest daughter, seventeen years of age. The whole family, consisting of his wife and nine children, and the Ewing boy, had been massacred. Most of the bodies were found in the yard. Hanging over the fire was a large kettle, which Mrs. O'Neal had been using to heat water for washing. In this kettle O'Neal's youngest child, a mere infant, was thrown alive and literally roasted. Willie Ewing had been thrown on the fire, beneath the kettle, where his body was found partially consumed. This horrible butchery was perpetrated by a band of Pottawattomies. The next year this tribe made peace with the Americans after the defeat at Malden. Many of them were in the habit of visiting Fort Clark, at Peoria, Ill., while going on their hunting excursions down the Sangamon. One of the band, who visited the fort frequently, became very friendly, and loved to talk of his exploits during the time his tribe was at war with the whites. In one of his talks he told of having led the party that massacred

the O'Neal family, and how, when scalping one of the boys, the victim grinned in the agonies of death.

This came to the ears of Lieut. John McNair, who lived in Troy before he enlisted, but was then in Fort Clark. McNair said, "The next time I see him I'll make him grin." The next day the Indian came back. McNair was asleep at the time. When he awoke he was told that the Indian had just gone. Inquiring the way, he gave immediate pursuit. He got almost upon the Indian before each saw the other. From the manner of his pursuer, the Indian saw that the matter was one of life or death, and prepared himself for defense. McNair got the first shot, and sent a ball crashing through the skull of the savage. Near the close of the war, Lieut. McNair was stationed at Cap-au-Gris, where Capt. Musick had command. A force of Indians came down on the Illinois side. Hearing of this the Lieutenant took six men and crossed over to reconnoiter, against the advice and caution of Frederick Dixon, who was familiar with the ways of the savages. They had not proceeded far from the river when four of their number were killed and McNair severely wounded. He and the other two men, Burnside and Webber, made for the skiff. The Indians reaching the boat first, sunk it. The white men plunged into the river, and the Indians after them. Webber being overtaken, plunged his hunting knife so deep into the breast of his pursuer that he could not withdraw it. He and Burnside reached a drift, where they were rescued by Dixon, David Lamaster and Thomas McNair, John's brother. Lieut. McNair was never afterward seen.

A JOKE WITH SAD RESULTS.

A party of rangers going from Fort Howard to Madison, on the bluff road, camped one night at a house on Hurricane Creek that had been lately abandoned. They found some provisions and a barrel of honey beer, of which they partook freely. The next morning, after marching a mile or more, the party concluded they must have some more beer, and sent about a dozen men back to get it, agreeing at the same time to march slowly, so as to be easily overtaken. As soon as the men started back, the onward party decided to have some fun, and to this end they

deployed themselves in an ambush in such a manner as to make as large a show of strength as possible, intending to give their comrades a good scare when they returned with the beer, and then laugh at them. The result was not according to programmethe scare being changed to the other side. Presently the dozen rangers were seen coming along the road, happy in the possession of their beer and anticipating no danger. Their friends in ambush, at the proper moment, fired their guns in the air, raised the Indian yell, and kept up scattering volleys. The surprised men fell back with some disorder, which was keenly relished by their comrades in ambush. They rallied, and believing that they were attacked by concealed Indians, advanced and poured a well directed volley into the bush from whence came the heaviest firing. The command came out sharp and clear, "Load, boys, and let the red devils have it again." And again the leaden hail rattled through the brush. The fun had now lost all its charm. Several of the originators of it had been wounded, though not seriously, and they realized that they were in imminent danger. The other party was so intent upon the work of self-defense that all the shouting and hallooing could not make them understand the real situation. Finally some of the party in the bush rushed into the midst of the others and explained the affair. The wounded men were cared for, the beer was drank, and every man pledged himself not to engage in a practical joke of that kind again during his life. Pain and sadness took the place of the anticipated laugh.

DEATH OF LYNN AND KEIGHTLEY.

William Lynn, who lived where Brown's addition to Troy is situated, was a ranger, and at one time on duty at Fort Howard. He was fond of his dram and used to keep his bottle hid out. One day he took his usual walk to enjoy his bottle and was in the act of drinking, when he was shot and killed by the Indians. Abraham Keightley, of St. Charles County, while hunting his horses, crossed Cuivre at White's Bar, about a mile above Chain of Rocks, and when a few yards from the river, on the land between Maj. H. Anderson and Francis Freise, was killed by the savages. His son, who died near Troy a few years ago, pre