"Who is Black Hawk?" asked General Gaines at Rock Island. "Is he a chief? By what right does he speak?"
"My father, you ask who is Black Hawk. I will tell you who I am. I am a Sac. My father was a Sac. I am a warrior. So was my father. Ask those young men who have followed me to battle and they will tell you who Black Hawk is. Provoke our people to war and you will learn who Black Hawk is."
Haughtily gathering up his robes, the chief and his followers stalked over to Canada for advice. In his absence Keokuk made the final cession to the United States and prepared to move beyond the Mississippi. Back like a whirlwind came the Hawk,—
"Sold the Sac village, sold your country!"
"Keokuk," he whispered fiercely in his ear, "give mines, give everything, but keep our cornfields and our dead."
"Cross the Mississippi," begged Keokuk.
"I will stay by the graves of my fathers," reiterated the stubborn and romantic Black Hawk.
The Indians left the silver rivers of Illinois, their sugar groves, and bee trees with regret. No wonder the chief's heart clung to his native village, among dim old woods of oak and walnut, and orchards of plum and crab. For generations there had they tilled their Indian gardens.
From his watchtower on Rock River the old chief scanned the country. Early in the Spring of 1832 he discovered a scattering train of whites moving into the beloved retreat.
"Quick, let us plant once more our cornfields."
In a body Black Hawk and his British band with their women and children came pulling up Rock River in their canoes. The whites were terrified.
"Black Hawk has invaded Illinois," was the word sent by Governor Reynolds to Clark at St. Louis. Troops moved out from Jefferson Barracks.
"Go," said Governor Clark to Felix St. Vrain, his Sac interpreter. "Warn Black Hawk to withdraw across the Mississippi."
St. Vrain sped away,—to be shot delivering his m
