"I have been thinking the matter over for some time, Phil. I have concluded that we had better move my house over to the clearing, if you will let us locate on your land."
"I believe in squatter sovereignty, Phil Farringford, and I regard this as your farm. The house is put up with screws, and can be readily taken down."
"What will you do with your piano, sir?" I inquired.
"I must get some passing steamer to transport that. The box in which it was brought up from St. Louis is still on the island."
"Our men shall assist you in moving the house," said Lieutenant Pope.
"It can be done in a couple of days, with force enough," added Mr. Gracewood.
After dinner, Morgan and I went over to the island, where we found the two soldiers domiciled in the house. The wounded Indian was there with them. He had crawled into the front room before their arrival, and I was pleased to learn that they had fed him, and done what they could for his wounds. They had put a big plaster on his nose, and bound up the back of his head. An assistant surgeon belonged to the detachment, but he was attending the wounded soldiers and Indians above the breastwork. None of the troops had been killed; one was severely and two slightly wounded.
Probably the presence of the two soldiers on the island had prevented the Indians from returning. Leaving Morgan at the house, I returned to the clearing. On my arrival I found that Lieutenant Pope, after serving out rations to his prisoners, which they had greedily devoured, had assembled them in the field, for the purpose of having a "big talk" with them. Two or three of them spoke English enough to act as interpreters.
"Why have you done this?" asked Mr. Pope. "Why did you come down here, steal the horses, and then murder the owner of them?"
The spokesman charged us with stealing the Indian horses and killing one of their chiefs.
"They stole our horses, and when we found them, we took two other horses belonging to the thieves," I replied. "But we returned them when they came for them, the next day. They demanded more horses, besides corn, meat, and whiskey, which we refused to give them, and they threatened us. Then about a dozen Indians came on horseback; but we had taken up the bridge, so that they could not cross over the brook. When old Matt came down, they shot him dead, without a word of talk. Then Kit Cruncher fired, and brought down the foremost Indian. The rest of them ran away. We defended ourselves in the block-house, and they did not dare to come near us, for Kit was sure of his man every time he fired. Then some more of them came down to the island, and when we drove them away from the house, they carried off Miss Ella. That's the whole story. Mr. Gracewood was here all the time, and he will tell you the same thing."