They led me gently back towards the Chicago River, along the southern bank of which was the Pottowattamie encampment.

At one time I was placed upon a horse without a saddle, but, finding the motion insupportable, I sprang off.

Supported partly by my kind conductor, _Black Partridge_, and partly by another Indian, Pee-so-tum, who held dangling in his hand a scalp, which by the black ribbon around the queue I recognized as that of Captain Wells, I dragged my fainting steps to one of the wigwams.
"The wife of Wau-bee-nee-mah, a chief from the Illinois River, was standing near, and, seeing my exhausted condition, she seized a kettle, dipped up some water from a stream that flowed near,[36] threw into it some maple-sugar, and, stirring it up with her hand, gave it me to drink.

This act of kindness, in the midst of so many horrors, touched me most sensibly; but my attention was soon diverted to other objects.
"The fort had become a scene of plunder to such as remained after the troops marched out.

The cattle had been shot down as they ran at large, and lay dead or dying around.