CHAPTER XIX.
NARRATIVE OF THE MASSACRE, CONTINUED.
The morning of the 15th arrived.

All things were in readiness, and nine o'clock was the hour named for starting.
Mr.Kinzie, having volunteered to accompany the troops in their march, had intrusted his family to the care of some friendly Indians, who promised to convey them in a boat around the head of Lake Michigan to a point[34] on the St.Joseph's River, there to be joined by the troops, should the prosecution of their march be permitted them.
Early in the morning Mr.Kinzie received a message from To-pee-nee-bee, a chief of the St.Joseph's band, informing him that mischief was intended by the Pottowattamies who had engaged to escort the detachment, and urging him to relinquish his design of accompanying the troops by land, promising him that the boat containing himself and family should be permitted to pass in safety to St.Joseph's.
Mr.Kinzie declined acceding to this proposal, as he believed that his presence might operate as a restraint upon the fury of the savages, so warmly were the greater part of them attached to himself and his family.
The party in the boat consisted of Mrs.Kinzie and her four younger children, their nurse Josette, a clerk of Mr.Kinzie's, two servants and the boatmen, besides the two Indians who acted as their protectors.

The boat started, but had scarcely reached the mouth of the river, which, it will be recollected, was here half a mile below the fort, when another messenger from To-pee-nee-bee arrived to detain them where they were.
There was no mistaking the reason of this detention.
In breathless anxiety sat the wife and mother.

She was a woman of uncommon energy and strength of character, yet her heart died within her as she folded her arms around her helpless infants, and gazed upon the march of her husband and eldest child to certain destruction.
As the troops left the fort, the band struck up the Dead March.

On they came, in military array, but with solemn mien.