F ^t'sforicaL TAGEANT or ILLINOIS An Historical TAGEANT OF ILLINOIS BOOKOFWQRDS PAGEANT OF ILLINOI ThomasWbodStevens Rroduced at NortliwesteraLMversity: ^ October Norfliwestera I5ir 'V COPYRIGHT 1909 BY THOMAS WOOD STEVENS RALPH FLETCHER SE\'MOUR COMPANY THE ALDERBRl^JK PRESS FINE ARTS BUILDING MICHIGAN BOULEVARD CHICAGO ta EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE. 1^ Mrs. H. J. Patten, Chairman. ^ Mrs. Chas. G. Little, Vice-Chairman. r Mrs. Laurence DeGolyer. Mrs. J. K. Armsby. Miss Mary Wilson. Miss Elizabeth Whitely. Pres. A. W. Harris. Mr. T. K. Webster. Mr. Philip Shumway. Mr. Wm. Dyche. Mr. R. R. Gilkey. Prof. James. Prof. Lutkin. Mr. John Lee Mahin. Mr. Alfred Granger. Mr. Graham C. Patterson. EXECUTIVE STAFF. Thomas Wood Stevens, Director. Dudley Crafts Watson, Assistant Director. Donald Robertson, in Charge of Scenes Played by the Donald Robertson Players. Olaf Anderson and Frank E. Barry, Musical Directors. Richard F. Babcock, in Charge of Costumes. Q/^f^JoXarque:6^ LIST OF PATRONS AND PATRONESSES FOR THE HISTORICAL PAGEANT OF ILLINOIS. Governor and Mrs. Deneen. Governor Hadley of Missouri. Ex-Governor John L. Beveridge of Illinois. Gen. and Mrs. Frederick D. Grant. Mr. and Mrs. Robt. T. Lincoln. Mr. and Mrs. H. C. Chatfield Taylor. Mrs. Cyrus H. McCormick, Sr. Mr. and Mrs. Harold McCormick. Mrs. J. V. Farwell, Sr. Mr. and Mrs. J. V. Farwell, Jr. Mr. and Mrs. Potter Palmer, Jr. Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Meeker. Mr. and Mrs. John A. Spoor. Mr. and Mrs. R. T. Crane. Mr. and Mrs. Benj. Carpenter. Mr. and Mrs. Chauncey Keep. Mr. and Mrs. Byron L. Smith. Mrs. Emmons Blaine. Mr. and Mrs. John J. Mitchell. Mr. and Mrs. Russell Tyson. Mr. and Mrs. James A. Patton. Mr. and Mrs. David R. Forgan. Mr. and Mrs. Wm. Holabird. Mr. and Mrs. A. C. Bartlett. Mr. and Mrs. Chas. L. Hutchinson. Mr. and Mrs. Carter H. Harrison. Mr. and Mrs. Clarence I. Peck. Mr. and Mrs. Charles G. Dawes. Mr. and Mrs. M. M. Kirkman. Mr. and Mrs. Cyrus Hall McCormick Mr. and Mrs. W. J. Chalmers. Mr. and Mrs. L. F. Swift. Mr. and Mrs. N. W. Harris. Baron and Baroness de St. Laurent. Mr. and Mrs. Charles Henrotin. Mr. and Mrs. William Liston Brown. Mr. and Mrs. Frank R. McMullen. Mr. and Mrs. Andrew McLeish. Mr. and Mrs. Edward Morris. President and Mrs. James of the University of Illinois. President and Mrs. Harry Pratt Judson of the University of Chicago. President and Mrs. J. V. NoUenof Lake Forest College. Dean and Mrs. Henry Wade Rogers. Director and Mrs. William M. R. French of the Art Institute. Dr. Charles J. Little. Mr. Fernando Jones. Mr. Simeon Farwell. Mrs. G. F. Swift. Mrs. Hugh R. Wilson. Mrs. McGregor Adams. Miss Nina Lunt. Mrs. John B. Kirk. Mr. Milton Wilson. Mr. and Mrs. Fredrian A. Howe. Mr. and Mrs. James R. Crandon. Mr. and Mrs. R. N. Isham. NOTE. — ^This pageant attempts to present, in a short space of time, a few of the most stirring events in the history of lUinois. As the number of scenes is necessarily limited, only such as may be considered turning points in the story of the State are chosen; and further than this, the choice is governed by the avail- ability of the material for dramatic representation. It is comparatively easy to represent an event; it is diffi- cult even to suggest the development of a common- wealth. Hence the swift culmination of a frontier struggle is preferred to the more important but slow and undramatic progress of civilization. As the early history is clearly the more readily adapted to the pur- poses of a pageant, no further justification for the emphasis on this period need be sought. In most cases the event itself is so presented as to make clear its culmination rather than the diverse causes, many of them remote, which brought it about. To do this events which actually occurred during sev- eral successive days are frequently shown as taking place in a single scene; and frequently conversations are transplanted from place to place ; such liberties have their excuse in the compression which they bring about. It is probable that no single event of the pageant, with the necessary evident causes, could be literally shown just as it occurred, in a single evening. Numerous authorities have been consulted and the effort has been to make the work as accurate as pos- sible. In some cases the more picturesque tradition has been preferred to the literal record — as for instance when the story of the taking of Kaskaskia follows the tale as given in Denny's "Memoir," rather than the fact as it occurred; the tradition is full of the color of the times, and its place as a western hero-tale is estab- lished. Similarly, in the treatment of Tonty, a conver- sation is adapted from Mary Hartwell Catherwood's "Story of Tonty" — a purely fictitious work — because it represents one of the best romantic fabrics that has yet been made of the material. With this explanation the pageant is submitted as historical. J^M^^S^C^ ^^ pr F^ ^€^^^ ^^S m* ^T) ^ fe^ ^M ^^^^^^w v^ /vSW )fj mM* ?cA \ Mj M^1\^Mr '^^^^^m cj^ ^ jCj-&*^.*"'jL'^jkv^" ^^ 'j^bJ/p ^ ^vSt^^ ^Ifw^ i^^ i^^ ^ ^^M if^:^^!^ DRAMATIS PERSONAE. White Cloud. Donald Robertson. The Great Sachem of the Illinois. Mr. Mendenhall. Council Chief of the Pottawatomies. Mr. Fesler. An Indian Messenger. Mr. C. F. Poole. Pere Marquette. Louis Joliet. Tonty. An Indian Girl. Nicolas Perrot. The Mohegan Hunter. La Salle. Rev. George Craig Stewart. Mr. Lawrence D. Ely. Mr. Gibson. Miss Mary Doyle. Mr. Dalton. Mr. Boynton. Mr. Alfred H. Granger. Hennepin, a Recollet Friar. Mr. Pingrey. Barbe Cavalier. Miss Morland. Nicanope, Chief of the Illinois. Mr. Schilling. Pontiac. Mr. Laurence Hamilton. An Illinois Chief. Mr. F. J. Cowley. Neyon, the French Commandant. Mr. Jewell. Rocheblave. Prof. BaiUot. George Rogers Clark. Prof. Lardner. Pere Gibault. Prof. Salvio. Two Provosts of the Ball. Mr. George Miller. Mr. Warner Coburn. The Fiddler. Mr. Edwin Stringham. An Indian. Dr. Hurlbut. Mr. Raycliff. Mr. H. H. Hoyt, Jr. A Young French Lady. Miss Ella McClary. Captain Heald. Rev. E. Reginald Williams. Mr. Percy Eckhart. Mr. Truman Brophy. Mr. R. R. Gilkey. Mr. George Calkins. Mr. Chester Brown. Mr. Cyril Courtney. Captain Wells. Ensign Ronan. Mr. Kinzie. Black Partridge. Chief of Miamis. Captain Stillman. Blackhawk. Mr. Laurence Hamilton. Blackhawk's Messenger. Mr. Cowley. A Young Lady. A Young Trooper. A Soldier. A Corporal. Lincoln. Mr. Fentriss. Blackbird, Chief of Pottawatomies. Mr. Kieth. Pioneers, Indians (men and women), American Soldiers, French Soldiers, Dancers, Habitants, Settlers, Rangers, etc. Miss Hazel Mackaye. Mr. Ralph Holmes. Mr. John Rice. Mr. Richard Babcock. AN HISTORICAL PAGEANT OF ILLINOIS Scene One A low chant is heard in the darkness, grad- ually drawing nearer, and closing with a sound of drums. The light grows clearer, and discloses the figure of White Cloud, the Prophet. WHITE CLOUD REAT MANITOU, WHO LIVEST IN THE SUN, WHOSE VOICE WE HEAR AMID THE BATTLING CLOUDS, SPIRIT WHO MAD'ST THE WORLD FROM THE RED CLAY, And in the world the children of thy might, I, Wau-ba-kee-shik, White Cloud, cry to thee: For in my peoples' councils I am wise. And in the paleface councils, am a child; For I have fasted in the caves of tears, Lain ear-to-earth to hear thy whisper, worn Black warpaint of the prophet and the seer, And lo, the medicine and magic of thy name Are mine! Great Manitou, thy children fall, And the long, bitter war trail nears its end. Let me look back. The fields were rich. The smokes rose up from fire on fire along the hills. And all our people, and the Illinois Prospered, and there was hunting for us all. So^say the old men. Now the day is gone And the chill stars who dog thy westward track Watch us with wintry eyes like wolves at night. Manitou of the Oak, I call on thee. For thou dost take the scalplocks of dead years. To wear them in thy crimson autumn hood. And living long, dost feed upon the hearts Of the brave springs who sing beneath thy shade. Thou dost remember. Tree gods, hear my spell And breathe my medicine. Bring back the glow Of our forgotten camp-fires; bring our chiefs To their lost councils. Feed mine ancient hate With visions of our wars, back to the dawn When there had come no pale-face to our lands And our unhindered rivers were not shamed With any burden of our enemies. Teach me, red Manitou of Oak, the tale. And let me hear, as when the old men make Among the tepees their unending vaunt. Thy winter-song. Oak, thou art tall. Thy head Nuzzles against the clouds; and thou art old. Much thou hast seen. Thou followest no trail. So thou rememberest. Oak, I bid thee speak, I bid thy shadows clear. I bid the morn, To burn anew — the red morn of our tribe. As he ceases to speak, the light fades from White Cloudy and the fires of the council encampment begin to glow. The Indians arouse themselves, and make preparations for the Corn Dance; a long line of women bearing bundles of cut maize comes in; the smoke ascends from the altar of the Corn Manitou, and the chiefs commence the dance and the chant; then a second circle of the children is formed around the men; ■finally the women form their circle, outside of the children, and the dance continues, growing more animated; it ceases suddenly as the chant stops. THE CORN CHANT Kitchemanedo, Master of Life Made man of the pipe-clay Alone; Made woman of pipe-clay To be his sister; Made the corn for her lover. Her lord, Last wooer, first lover. Her comfort and lord. So hath the Master of Life, Kitchemanedo Sent us the corn. As the chant stops, the Great Sachem of the Illinois enters, followed by his old men and "warriors, and bearing the Calumet. GREAT SACHEM Am I welcome ? COUNCIL CHIEF OF THE POTTAWATOMIES We dance, all our people, for joy that you have come. GREAT SACHEM Your tribe is gathered for thanksgiving — for the Corn Dance. You enjoy a good harvest ^ COUNCIL CHIEF Our harvest has been rich. We have sent messengers to your great lodge with our tribute — the payment of the seed-corn. GREAT SACHEM The calumet goes round, and your people dance, and the harvest is full. But in the southward country our brothers are at war. The Iroquois and the Miamis band against us. The peaceposts are blackened. We must help our brothers. COUNCIL CHIEF Our young men shall take bows and axes, and cut down your enemies as the winter cuts down the dried corn. GREAT SACHEM So you have sworn upon the sacred fire and the red earth; and you have exchanged with us the calumets. But now, against the Miamis, we have a new war, for 13 the pale-faces from beyond the mountains have given to our foes their weapons of fire and thunder, and the Miamis drive our warriors before them as the red deer run before the hunting of the wolves. COUNCIL CHIEF We have heard of these pale men. They are manitous. GREAT SACHEM This is light talk, this talk of manitous. But their medicine is strange and powerful. They smile, and speak of love, and the friendship they bear us, but their thunders slay us from the thickets. There are pale- faces of two kinds, good and evil; the good are to be taken into our lodges, for they are wise ; the evil ones are death; so much we know. Your young men must be resolute. COUNCIL CHIEF Why should not we also seek the palefaces and learn their witchcraft; it is folly of us to die and be no wiser. GREAT SACHEM Soon enough we shall learn it. A messenger enters and stands before the Great Sachem. What word do you bring us, young man with feet like the wind ? MESSENGER, pointing south- ward. The Black-Gown. A number of Indian children come running in after the messenger^ looking behind them. All eyes turn in that direction. After a slight pause, Marquette enters, folloived by Joliet and Jive Frenchmen, bearing packs and canoes. MARQUETTE I am welcome ? GREAT SACHEM I thank thee, Black-Gown, and thee. Frenchman, for the labor of your coming. Never shone the sun so tenderly as to-day; never rustled the ripe corn so pleas- antly as now, since you are with us. Our river, that was so angry at the rocks which chafed it, flows calm and silent, since the canoes of the white men have passed. Behold, Black-Gown, I give thee my little son, that thou mayest know my heart. Thou art beloved of the Great Spirit. Ask him to cherish me and my people. MARQUETTE, to Joliet. Here, Louis, is my mission. JOLIET In all our travels, we have seen no chief so gracious, no people so well favored for the work of the Church. It may be, father, thou art right. GREAT SACHEM Black-Gown, one medicine I ask of thee. The pale- faces have given their thunder weapons to our enemies, the Miamis. Give us also weapons, that we may defend our lodges and our women. MARQUETTE If I gave you weapons you would kill the Miamis who are my children also. 15 GREAT SACHEM We would defend our hunting grounds. MARQUETTE I bring you another word, my son — a word of peace. The Great Sachem turns aside to consult with his old men, and Marquette makes a sign to his follower Sy who go off, all save yoliet, who comes forward with the Jesuit. MARQUETTE Louis, my friend, I have come to the end of my journey. Thou hast been to me the trustiest shield, the cheeriest comrade. I have loved thee well, and while yet I live thy name shall not fail from my prayers. But here thou art to leave me. JOLIET While yet thou Hvest. What does that mean, father ? MARQUETTE We have passed over many streams, and many portages. We have seen the Great River, and the Pictured Rocks, and the lake of the Illinois. No other Frenchman has seen them. Behold, how great a field for the Church, how wide a domain for the Cross. Louis, I have before me the task of my destiny, and I must not shrink. JOLIET Nor do I shrink, father. I will stay with thee. MARQUETTE Nay, my son. I have seen thine eyes wet when our carriers sang their songs of France. I have seen thee wistful, even to tears, when we have spoken of Quebec, the home thou didst leave to come with me. No, Louis. Thou shalt go on. I will remain. It is only for a little while. JOLIET It is true, I have longed for home. MARQUETTE I knew it, Louis. THE GREAT SACHEM, com- ing forward again. Black-Gown, dost thou refuse the weapons to me and my people .? MARQUETTE, going back to the group of carriers^ who have brought in a great cross of white birch wood. My children, I have for you no weapons. I desire that you shall live at peace with the Miamis, and the Iro- quois, and all the forest people. GREAT SACHEM Then I and my tribes are to be slain, and thou wilt do nought to help us ? MARQUETTE I will bring you my faith, as my brothers have taken it to the Miamis. A threatening murmur arises among the Indians, and some of the young men move toward Marquette. 17 GREAT SACHEM And wilFthy faith shield us from our foes ? MARQUETTE Yea, truly it will, for it is the faith of peace, and love. Behold, here I set up this cross for a sign. GREAT SACHEM The rains will rot it down, and the snows will cover it. MARQUETTE Not so, for it shall be in your, hearts. He leans heavily on Joliet^s shoulder, and it IS seen that he is very weak in body. GREAT SACHEM Thy medicine, Black-Gown, means nothing to us. We wish to know thee and thy Manitou; we were ready to be thy children, and thou dost offer us a sign of birch wood. MARQUETTE I bring you more than a sign, for I bring you truth. I will teach you of the life that dies not, and of the true God, and of the Holy Church; I will teach you of the creation, and the redemption, and of the Blessed Virgin; I will make plain to you the law of Christ, which is the law of love. Kneel down, all you who seek the truth. Here I set the Cross, and here, while I may, I will abide. The Indians fall on their knees, as the light gradually fades. At last only Pere Marquette and the Great Sachem are left standing; then the Indian kneels, and the light fads luholly from the scene. Scene Two WHITE CLOUD EACEFUL THE BLACK-GOWN CAME. WE WELCOMED HIM. HE TAUGHT HIS' FAITH; WE LISTENED AND WE LOVED. FOR HE WAS PATIENT, BRAVE, AND KIND. HE LIVES In drowsy annals of our winter nights. But those who followed in the Black-Gown's trail Brought harsher magic and a hopeless war. Seeking the paths that we had never trod They searched the blue horizons for some grim And desolate issue to forbidden seas; They spoke to us of mysteries, shoulder-wise As they with tireless footsteps hastened on. So the four hunters in our mystic tale Pursue each year the bear who never dies. And stain the leaves of autumn with his blood Till all the oaks and maples flame with woe, And the still snows come down on them like sleep; But in the spring the bear awakes, his wounds Healed, and the hunters take their bows and strike The chase that follows through the fruitless years. 19 La Salle, and Tonty of the Iron Hand, Great Captains in this idle paleface quest, Came hither long ago, and claimed the ground For some old king beyond the sunrise. These Were strong-heart men, these finders of the way Who hunted the great rivers to their ends, — Stern foes, whom fear could never shake. Behold, Wan children of the sheltered lodges, these Who faced the mystery with dauntless eyes And trod our trails out with intrepid feet. The Captains of the white man's outer march. The lights come up gradually, showing the village of the Illinois asleep, and Tonty's party encamped among them. Tontyy alone, watches by Marquette's cross. TONTY How strange a service is this, that I must watch by a Christian cross that was set here in the wilderness by our enemies. The wood may yield to us; the rivers may give up their secrets; but the hatred of those behind us will not abate. My Captain, this is a great endeavor, and we have fought hard in it, but the battle is not won. Little men bark at your heels for a few beaver pelts; but you look forward and see an empire. So be it. Your vision is mine. La Salle. Enter, an Indian Girl, Omawha's daughter. THE GIRL Iron Hand. BBEBBi TONTY Princess. THE GIRL Man with the Iron Hand, I have this to tell you. Turn back, for you and your chief are betrayed. TONTY My chief never turns back. THE GIRL You must all die if you go on. There has been council- talk in the dark. TONTY Tell me of this council-talk. THE GIRL The Miami, Monso, came last night. He spoke long to our old men. He brought presents from the Iro- quois. He said the Sieur de la Salle would break our tribe in his hand, if our people let him pass. He said the Black-Gowns sent him, and the Iroquois. Turn back, Man-with-the-Hand-of-Iron, or our chiefs will slay you all. I have spoken. TONTY This is girl's talk. THE GIRL This is true-talk, Iron-Hand. She starts away from him. TONTY Stop, Princess, and tell me why ? She runs out, and is gone. Tonty turns to arouse hts followers. It is now full day, and the village is waking up. Rouse yourself, Jolycoeur. The Sieur de la Salle will soon be here from the portage. NICOLAS PERROT (called Jolycoeur.) Who was that talking, Tonty .? TONTY A young squaw. NICOLAS PERROT What did she want ? TONTY She came to me about you. NICOLAS PERROT About me ? Well, what did the young woman want of me ? TONTY She wanted to buy you, knowing you were good for nothing to me, to keep the dogs away from her chil- dren. NICOLAS PERROT Tonty, Fm not one to endure insult forever. TONTY Listen to me, Nicolas Perrot. I have heard your com- plaints, and your treasons; heard them long enough. I say nothing to Monsieur de la Salle, but I warn you. That is all. Enter an Indian Messenger, the Mohegan. What word, Mohegan .? THE MOHEGAN Monsieur de la Salle is come, Iron Hand. TONTY Fall in line, men. The Frenchmen of Tonty's party are draivn up in a line. The Indians of the village gather to see La Salle's party, the chiefs grouped to gether at the back, of the stage. Enter La Salle, followed by Hennepin, Barbe Cavelier, and the men of the party. THE MEN OF TONTY'S PARTY, cheering ironically. Welcome to the Sieur de la Salle! La Salle salutes them coldly, and goes over to Tonty, laying his hands on his shoulder. LA SALLE All has been well with you, Tonty ^. TONTY All has been well, my Captain. LA SALLE I thank God for that. TONTY I have information for you. Let me give it before you meet the council. La Salle and Tonty walk aside, talking earnestly, while Hennepin and Barhe come up. HENNEPIN But for my roving disposition, mademoiselle, I should never have come out here to your uncle's estate. It's a great park he has, but I caution you — you must not expect too much of his chateau. It does not keep up the state which the grounds might seem to promise. BARBE Father, I do not like anyone to rail at my uncle. HENNEPIN I must rail at something, my child. Your uncle can bear it as well as another. BARBE Where are we to be lodged, father ^. HENNEPIN, beckoning to Tonty, while La Salle speaks with the chiefs. Signor Tonty, here's a lady pestering me with ques- tions. Now as I have brought her out here, at her uncle's wish, to marry her off to you, I hold that you should be the one to reply. Tonty comes forward. BARBE Keep your distance. Monsieur Tonty. I will not be given away without consideration by anyone. TONTY It is true that I have the word of your uncle, Monsieur de la Salle. BARBE I am told that this is true. TONTY Mademoiselle, I have not the experience to know how one should approach one's betrothed. I was never married before. BARBE It is my case also, monsieur. TONTY How do you like this land of the Illinois, Mademoiselle ^ BARBE I am enchanted with it. TONTY You delight me when you say that. In a few days we shall come to our fort on the Rock of Saint Louis, mademoiselle. BARBE That will be very agreeable, monsieur. TONTY We often have hunting parties from the Rock. The country is full of game. BARBE It is pleasant to amuse oneself, monsieur. TONTY Mademoiselle, I hope this marriage is agreeable to you? BARBE Monsieur de Tonty, I have simply been flung at your head. TONTY I would I had more experience in matters like this, that I might not prove so distasteful to you, mademoiselle. But at the Fort Saint Louis there has been little thought of gallantry, and I am rusty with my bows and my manner of suing. BARBE This Fort Saint Louis of yours — is it a chateau on a mountain, monsieur ^ TONTY A stockade on a cliff, mademoiselle. HENNEPIN, coming down be- tween them. The council begins. Your affairs move too slowly, my children. He leads Barbe aside. The circle of the Indians is formedy and Tonty takes his place beside La Salle. Nicanope, the Illi- nois chief, rises to speak. NICANOPE My brothers, it is not alone that we may feast together that we meet here in our village. We would save you from the dangers you do not understand. You have said that you wish to go down our river to the Great River, and even to the end of that Great River. You have given us presents, and we love you. So we tell you, this is not possible. For the River of the Missis- sippi belongs to the evil manitous; in its waters are terri- ble serpents, and on its shores are tribes who let none pass, but take all such as travel that way, and devour them. And if by your great valor you escape the ser- pents and the shore-clans, you will at last be swept into a great water-fall, which plunges downward into a gulf too deep to be measured. Do not go, my brothers, but turn back. The Great Manitou, the Master of Life, forbids it. LA SALLE My brother, did you not, only yesterday, promise my friend that you would help me to go down the Great River. Have the serpents and the water-fall, and all this danger, come up in the night ? NICANOPE Yesterday, my brother, we did not know. LA SALLE I thank you for the friendly warning which your affec- tion bids you utter. But we were not asleep last night when Monso came to tell you that we were spies of the Iroquois. The presents he gave you, that you might believe his lies, are at this moment buried under your council lodge. If he told you the truth, why did he skulk away in the dark ? Even now, while I am speak- ing, could we not put your chiefs to death, if we so 27 willed ? If you are our friends, our brothers, as you say, go after this Monso, and bring him back, that he may look me in the face. For I tell you, openly, that I will not turn back, now nor hereafter. The chiefs gather around ISficanope, the circle breaking up and leaving the white men in a group at one side^ the chiefs at the othery and La Salle and Tonty in the center. Perrot comes forward from the group of Frenchmen^ and addresses La Salle. PERROT These are brave words. Monsieur de la Salle, but they are foolhardy as well. We believe what the Illinois have told us of this river, and we can not find it in our hearts to go forward. LA SALLE Nicolas Perrot, do you know that this is mutiny and treason .'' PERROT I know we can not go forward to our certain death merely to please you, monsieur. This is the wilder- ness of the Illinois, not the parade-ground of Fort Fron- tenac. LA SALLE Are there no faithful men } Tonty comes up on one side of him, Hen- nepin on the other. TONTY You still have friends, my captain. LA SALLE Here, then is my answer. I speak as Saint Lusson spoke at Sault Sainte Marie, and loyal men will hear me to the end. He draws his sword and steps forward , repeating solemnly the Proces Verbal de la Prise de Possession. In the Name of the Most High, Mighty, and Redoubted Monarch, Louis the Fourteenth, Most Christian King of France and Navarre, I take possession of this land of the Illinois, and of all countries, rivers, lakes and streams adjacent thereunto; both those which have been discovered, and those which shall be discovered hereafter, from the seas of the North and the West to the South Sea; declaring to the nations thereof that they are vassals of His Majesty, and bound to obey his laws; and I promise them on his part protection against the invasions of his enemies. I bind all his subjects in this dominion to his laws, and to the authority of those who govern in his name, on pain of incurring treason against His Most Christian Majesty. And I warn all others against seizure and infringement, on pain of in- curring his resentment and the efforts of his arms. Vive le Roil Hennepin and Tonty kneel during the speech, and rise at the end of it, shouting, TONTY AND HENNEPIN Vive le Roi ! 29 Vive le Roi! Forward ! The men break away from Perroty and swing over to La Salle ^ all save five. THE LOYAL MEN LA SALLE Perrot and his mutineers persist for a moment, gazing at La Salle; then their heads drop, and they return to their packs. The Indians stand together and watch the movement without any show of feeling. The Frenchmen take up their packs and canoes, and start down the trail. La Salle falls in behind them with Hennepin, Tonty with Barbe. As they pass from sight, two figures stand clear of the Indian group: Nicanope, who watches them in wonder, holding his calumet, and the girl, Omawha's daughter, who follows alone to the center of the stage, looking after Tonty; she stands for a moment, irresolute, her back to the audience, and her hands over her face, weeping. Then she turns slowly and goes back to the lodge. The lights fade from the stage, and White Cloud again appears. Scene Three WHITE CLOUD COLD THIS CAPTAIN WAS — LA SALLE, WHO BURNED IN SECRET WITH INDOMI- TABLE FLAME. OUR PEOPLE KNEW, FOR WE COULD UNDERSTAND A heart which never showed how deep its wounds. How grave its causes — we, the red folk, knew. But there were little men of his own clan Whose hate could never sleep; they tracked him down. And after him the winters and the springs Danced round the camp fire of the shifting sun; And braves, just come of age to hunt and woo When Tonty of the Iron Hand was here, Grew old, and sage, and died at last of years Before another chieftain lived whom I, The Prophet, raise to honour with my spells: And when he came, he was an Ottawa, A man of mine own race, who loved his land And dared to battle with the robbers twain, England and France, who bargained, field by field Our ancient hunting grounds away. This chief Was Pontiac, the last of our high sachems. And even now I hear his drums resound, S ee his great war-belt swinging in the lodge, And answer, in my heart, his dauntless call. The scene is still the village of the Illinois; eighty-five years have elapsed since the last episode, and the Illinois now gather, unwillingly enough, to hear the demands of Pontiac, who, after his defeats in the East, comes to rally the western tribes to resist the cession of the land to the English. The lights appear on the council, as Pon- tiac enters. PONTIAC My children, as I have spoken before, so now I speak. This war is for the lives of our people, and the land which the Giver of Light made for our heritage. Listen to my speech, which is true-talk. The English say that the French have given them the land. But this could never be, since we have never sold our land. My children, our father, the French king, sleeps, and the Enghsh have seized his forts and his houses. But when the French king wakes — what then .? AN ILLINOIS CHIEF We have heard all this, Pontiac. We own the land. We hate the English. But the English are very strong. What do you require of us. PONTIAC First, I give you these presents, that you may know my friendship. 32 Ponttac's people bring forward some bales, and among other things, a large cask of brandy. He then produces a great war- belt, which he holds up before him as he speaks. I require of you now some swift and true messengers, that I may send this belt to call together my people. Behold, in it are woven the totems of all my tribes and all my villages. Your messengers shall carry this, with my war call. Four Indians step forward to act as mes- sengers. PONTIAC, to the four. Take now my great war-belt, and go down your river and the Mississippi; wherever there is smoke of a village, stop and carry my word. Say that I, Pontiac, will drive back the English from the North and East, and let them hold back those who came from the South; let the rivers be closed; let no canoe of the English pass, but sink it with lead and with arrows. I have spoken. You, who carry my war-belt, be faithful. AN ILLINOIS CHIEF We have given you messengers, brother, but our warriors cannot help you in the East and the North. We are a peaceful folk, and our harvests have been poor, and our strength wanes. We cannot war against the English. PONTIAC Then I will bring upon you my Ottawas, and the Miamis, and the Iroquois — all those who have hated you. I will burn up your people and your tepees, as the fire eats the dried grass of the prairies. AN OLD CHIEF Our father, the commander of the French, will soon be here. Let us speak in peace until he comes. PONTIAC My father, the French king, will help me when I am ready. I will not wait. I ask of you now, my warriors, that the war song begin ; for if you fail me, you shall surely die. One of Pontiac*s men seats himself on the ground and begins heating a drum. His people throw off their blankets and pre- pare for the ivar-dance. The cask of brandy is broached^ and the drink is handed round. A murmur of the rising war-song is heard. Enter Neyony French commandanty with troops. Pontiac prof- fers him a belt of ivampum. PONTIAC Father, with this belt I open your ears that you may hear. I bring you this war belt, that you may know I have not forgotten to hate the enemies of the French and the black cloud that is over us all. I ask you, for the last time, that you will aid us against the English. Or, if you will not do this, give us powder and lead and we will raise the hatchet alone, for we know that the French king is old, and has slept, but now he is awake again and we may sweep the English from our lands. NEYON Pontiac, our hands are tied. Our father, the French king, has forbidden us to injure the EngHsh. With this paper he has forbidden us, and we dare not dis- obey. If you and your tribes are wise, you will cease this warfare and bury your hatchet forever, since our father, the king of the French, has given this land to the EngHsh. PONTIAC Father, the French king could not give our lands. He did not own our lands. NEYON With this paper our hands are tied. Untie this knot and we will aid you. PONTIAC You tell me the French king has yielded to the English — that his scalp hangs in their lodge ^ Yet you hold in your hands my war-belt. NEYON I give you back your war-belt. Pontiac, our friendship is over. PONTIAC I, too, here drop from my hands the chain of our friend- ship. Take my defiance. Frenchmen. Against you, as against the English, my people will fight forever. This belt you have scorned, but I have sent from me another, woven with the totems of seven and forty tribes. By that belt I defy you — I and all my warriors. 35 During the last speeches the Illinois have been crowding around the brandy cask, behind Pontiac. At the last wordsy he draws himself up by the cask; a brave from the group around the barrel lurches forward, clings to Pontiac for a moment, then falls at his feet. There is a noise of drunken laughter. Neyon gives an order to his men, and they file out, leaving Pontiac staring at the figure at his feet. As he turns toward the Indians they break into laughter and loud yells and rush of in the opposite direction from that which Neyon has taken. Pontiac goes over to the cask and tips it over. It is empty. The lights disappear from the stage, and in the gloom the Indians remove their encampment. INTERMISSION. 36 Scene Four WHITE CLOUD ET NOW THE MOONS CHANGE SWIFTLY, AND THE SPRINGS SCATTER THE SNOWS WITH THEIR RETURNING FEET. AND LET THE YEARS DEPART. I MOURN THEM NOT. Great Pontiac died, and for his mighty life A vengeance fell upon the Illinois; Keener than prairie winds, it licked them up, And all their treasons passed, like scalps that hang Unprized amid the tepees' dust and smoke; For Pontiac, though his war-belt fell apart, And in his death was nothing glorious. Loved well his land and folk, and hated well The spoilers of his nation. Peace to him. And fortunate hunting in the woods of Death. The Frenchmen passed; they were our friends and brothers; The English followed, and were foes to us. And last the Long Knives, folk we never knew. And never loved, and never understood. They seized our soil, and with unresting plows 37 Made our broad prairies burn with yellow grain; So they grow rich, while we slink in and out, Poor ghosts of an unwelcome past. Behold How first they came, with Clark in the still night; And how, in the fulfillment of our people's hate Long afterward, we found the war-path clear. And the white beaches crimsoned at our tread. Kaskaskia, a grove in the village. Laugh- ing groups of habitants, in festal array, come in with flowers to decorate the scene of the dance. They bring two small cano- pied booths, which are set up, one at each side of the stage, for refreshments and for the fiddler. At the back of the stage they erect a floral arch or doorway, through which, as soon as it is set up, come the two Provosts of the ball, who are to be the mas- ters of ceremony. They instantly set to work ordering the guests, marshalling the girls along the left side of the stage, and the men along the right, enforcing their author- ity in the most courteous manner with ver- bal instructions. The scene is to be carried by all concerned in a key of decorous gayety. THE PROVOSTS, seating the guests in order. Prayjyou, monsieur, — pray you, mademoiselle. Enter Commandant Rocheblave, with a guest, a young Englishman, dressed in the height of fashion. 38 THE PROVOSTS Welcome to you, monsieur le Commandant. We are honored supremely. ROCHEBLAVE Gentlemen, allow me to present my friend, Mr. Ray- cliff. A PROVOST We are enchanted. Monsieur Raycliff is an English- man ? MR. RAYCLIFF A traveller. ROCHEBLAVE We are all in the English service, Mr. Raycliff. At your service. THE PROVOSTS By your permission, monsieur le Commandant, the dance may begin .? Rochehlave nods, and the Provosts confer aside. A coureur de hots enters, and goes immediately to the Commandant. THE COUREUR Captain, I beg to report — ROCHEBLAVE Wait till the dance is begun. I have a guest — THE COUREUR It is' in haste. The Long Knives are up the river in force. They are coming down upon us, I am told. 39 MR. RAYCLIFF Long Knives ? ROCHEBLAVE The Americans, he means. I have heard this tale be- fore. It is not possible. THE COUREUR I have reported, monsieur le Commandant. They say that Clark commands them — Clark of Virginia. Mr. Raycliff is visibly alarmed. Roche- hlave comforts him. ROCHEBLAVE Be off, you'll alarm the ladies. Exit the coureur de hois. These tales come every day. We no longer pay atten- tion, Mr. Raycliff. Enter the Fiddler. General murmur of approval. Rochehlave and his guests take seats and the Provosts select the dancers, inviting them forward and lining them up at the hack, in couples. Seven couples have thus been called forward. The Provost at the right selects a young Frenchman; the Provost on the left selecting a young lady. The man comes forivard, hut the lady stands still, very proud and rebellious. THE PROVOST Pray you, mademoiselle. THE YOUNG LADY No, monsieur le Provost, I will not dance. THE PROVOST Mademoiselle, the gavotte waits; monsieur attends. A gesture at the waiting swain. THE YOUNG LADY It is not that I have been two years chosen queen of the king's balls. It is that I do not choose. THE PROVOST This is most unusual, mademoiselle. Most unusual. THE YOUNG LADY I do not choose to dance with the gentleman you have called. Besides, Monsieur le Commandant has a guest. Do the honored provosts know that he does not dance ^ THE PROVOST, speechless with rage: Mademoiselle! THE YOUNG LADY I have not heard the Provosts inquire of the guest. I do not know he does not wish to dance. Why not ask him ? I will wait. ROCHEBLAVE, coming for- ward: Monsieur le Provost. I have a guest. May I beg for him the honor of a dance .? Turns to the rejected partner. Monsieur, you place me perpetually in your debt. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kind- ness to my guest, Mr. Raycliff. Again I thank you. 41 The Provost leads Mr. Ray cliff forward, and presents him. The young lady makes him a deep boiv, makes an ironical curtsey to the Provost, and the dance begins. The crowd has gathered, till the sides of the stage are crowded with guests, settlers, sol- diers, and Indians. At the hack, however, there is still an open space, through which the shadowy figures of Clark' s men can be seen marching past, their rifles in their hands. Enter, unnoticed, George Rogers Clark, in the uniform of a Virginia Colonel, except that his boots are missing, and he wears moccasins. When the figure of the dance permits, he saunters over and leans against the tree, right center. An Indian, who has been sitting on the ground leaning against the tree, spies him and darts out, standing straight before him for an instant. Then the Indian whirls suddenly, and runs over to Rochehlave. THE INDIAN The Long Knives! THE COUREUR DE BOIS Rushing in center. The Americans! We are surrounded. ROCHEBLAVE Coming down to confront Clark. Silence. Who are you, sir .? 42 CLARK Colonel Clark, at your service. At the words the crowd is seized with terror, and everything is in confusion. Women scream, men shout, and in the distance the war-whoop of the Indians IS heard. ROCHEBLAVE By whose authority do you come here ? CLARK By the authority of Patrick Henry, Governor of Vir- ginia. You are surrounded, Captain. Your sword. ROCHEBLAVE Insolence! Men, this gentleman is our prisoner. As the French soldiers move forward, the Americans rush in and surround Clark, threatening the others with swords and pistols. CLARK Gentlemen, I pray you, continue your entertainment. I speak for the Governor of Virginia. Monsieur Rocheblave, I must again demand your sword. ROCHEBLAVE I will not surrender my garrison to your night-prowlers. I will not — CLARK Put this man under guard. Disarm him. Search the town, and bring me all the Britishers you find. I'll know whether we are to be openly defied or not. Let all keep within their houses, on pain of death, till I order otherwise. The guests have been departing hastily during the scene, the men conducting the ladies out. Clark watches them go, his face lowering. At the last, the fiddler comes over to him, hobs humbly, and offers his greeting. THE FIDDLER Monsieur the new Commandant, I trust you will not forget me, when you desire that there shall be a dance, for the people of the post. CLARK I shall call on you. Monsieur. Enter Pere Gibault. PERE GIBAULT, frightened but intent upon his duty. Is this the American commander ? CLARK, severely. I am Colonel Clark, at your service. PERE GIBAULT I am a man of peace, monsieur le Commandant, and know nothing of your war. I speak for my people, who are loyal subjects. I am called Pere Gibault. CLARK I am glad to^' meet you, sir. PERE GIBAULT I have come to speak for my people. Everywhere they beg for their Hves,and the village is mad with fear. Monsieur le Commandant, I must know what their fate is to be. Are they to be slaves of the Americans .'' CLARK You do not understand, Mr. Gibault. We have come to free these people, not to enslave them. They are to be citizens, not subjects. Mr. Gibault, ours is a war for liberty, for justice. I must have order among your people. But they are free, now, as they never were before. PERE GIBAULT And they are not to be driven from their homes by your "Long Knives :" CLARK Certainly not. PERE GIBAULT And they are not even to lose their property .? CLARK Not a penny. PERE GIBAULT Tell me, Monsieur Colonel Clark, are they to be allowed to come to worship as they were ^ CLARK We have nothing to do with churches, save to defend them from insult. By the laws of Virginia, your rehgion has as great privileges as any other. 45 PERE GIBAULT Monsieur Clark, my son, I am overwhelmed at your kindness. I am already, in my heart, a citizen of Virginia. I must tell my people. He starts to go, but returns. Though I know nothing of the temporal business, I can give them some advice, in the spiritual way, that shall be conducive to your cause. God bless you, Monsieur Clark. Exit Pere Gthault. The fiddler comes hacky having lingered. THE FIDDLER I see thati.it will be necessary for me to play to-night. Our people will want music. I hear them already singing. CLARK You shall fiddle to-night under the flag of Virginia, sir. Strike your strings. As he speaks, the townspeople flock back, cheering and exultant. They cross the stage and go on, taking Clark with them. 46 Scene Five Parade-Ground before Fort Dearborn. Captain Heald and Lieutenant Ronan appear, with Mr. Kinzie; the Captain replying to the trader s protest against leaving the fort. CAPTAIN HEALD I understand your objections, sir, and I know that it 47 is only their love for you and your family that holds the Indians to their pledge. KINZIE I fear it will not hold them. CAPTAIN HEALD Mr. Kinzie, your advice was doubtless good, but my orders were positive. I must evacuate the fort, and I have been ordered to give out the supplies to the Indians. The goods have been distributed. We have no stores, and must move. The Pottawatomies have promised us an escort, and I believe they will furnish it. KINZIE I advised you against the delivery of arms, ammunition and liquor. CAPTAIN HEALD I have taken your advice, and had the arms destroyed and the liquor poured into the river. KINZIE Secretly ? Your treaty with them is broken, as you know, by the action. CAPTAIN HEALD Secretly. KINZIE Captain Heald, I have to tell you that the Indians know of the destruction of the arms, and that even now they are drunk with the whiskey they have lapped up from the river. ENSIGN RONAN That puts a cap to our folly, sir. We shall be shot down like cattle. CAPTAIN HEALD Are you afraid, sir ? ENSIGN RONAN No, sir. I can march where you dare not. But I do not hope to escape. KINZIE If you must move, it is better that it be done at once. The news you had has reached the tribes as well. They know that war has been declared, and that the British have taken Mackinac. Enter Black Partridge. BLACK PARTRIDGE Father, I come to deliver to you the medal I wear. It was given me by the Americans, and I have long worn it in token of our friendship; but our young men are resolved to imbrue themselves in the blood of the white people. I can not restrain them. I will not wear a token of peace while I am compelled to act as an enemy. He gives the medal to Captain Healdy who tosses it contemptously to Ensign Ronan. Ktnzie^ understanding the Indian s motive^ shakes hands with him, silently. Black Partridge goes out. ENSIGN RONAN There is your last word. Captain. 49 MR. KINZIE How much ammunition has been saved ? CAPTAIN HEALD Twenty-five rounds to the man. MR. KINZIE And we have as many women and children to take safely to Fort Wayne! CAPTAIN HEALD The start from the fort is to be made at once. Gentle- men, our escort is in sight. They look of to the right, where the Potta- ivatotnies are expected, and turn hack toward the Block House. At the same time. Captain fVells enters from the left, at the head of a hand of Miamis. Captain Wells IS on horsehack. CAPTAIN HEALD You have come just in time, Captain. We need you. CAPTAIN WELLS Is it true, sir, as Winamac has told me, that you intend to evacuate the fort ? CAPTAIN HEALD The order has been given. CAPTAIN WELLS Do you realize that you have no chance to survive this march ? By Heaven, sir, you will all be cut down. Can we not stay and defend the fort ? 50 CAPTAIN HEALD We have no provisions. All is in readiness for the start. Captain Wells dismounts. What are you going to do ? CAPTAIN WELLS I was reared among the Miamis, Captain. There is much of the red man in me. I am going to my death, and our old custom is to blacken the face when there is no hope. I must do that, and then I am ready. The white men go into the forty passing around the block-house. The Pottaivatomies enter from the right. Blackbird leading. They form and wait. Captain Wells reappears at the head of his MiamiSy his face blackened with wet powder. The Dead March is played, and the garrison marches out, swinging around the stage and going off to the southward, left. The regulars follow the Miamis, the militiamen come after the * regulars; after them the women and chil- dren, Mr. Kinzie walking beside the wagons; at the close. Ensign Ronan with a rear-guard, and the Miami chief, with a few of his men. Blackbird* s men fall in beside the procession, and he himself rides along the lines. The Dead March continues to the end of the movement. As the last wagon is about to disappear, 51 a distant shot is heardy and a shout jrom the southward. The rear-guard halts. Captain Wells comes riding hack, shouting. CAPTAIN WELLS We are surounded. Charge! Blackbird comes riding hack along his lines, ordering his men to lie flat and fire. The Miami chief rides over to him, speaks defiantly, though his words can not he he heard for the shouting, and rides off, right, taking his men with him. Ensign Ronan, who has drawn up his rear-guard around the wagon, is wounded, and falls, hut continues fighting, leaning against the wagonwheels. The women form a close group hehind the wagon. Black Partridge appears in the midst of the group, and kills an Indian who is ahout to strike one of the women with his tomahawk. Captain Wells enters again, from the left, on foot. He goes straight toward Blackhird, shouting and striking at him with his sword. The Indians attempt to capture him, hut he eludes them, coming down stage. He turns and aims a pistol at Black Partridge, hut is himself shot, and falls. They leap for- ward to take him; he raises his head proudly, and receives another hullet which kills him. The regulars now appear, falling back slowly from the southward, 52 and forming tn a solid group around the wagon. Blackbird raises his handy and there is an instant of silence. Captain Heald, from the group, raises a white handkerchief tied to a musket. CAPTAIN HEALD Blackbird, we surrender. The lights are cut off from the stage, suddenly, and the group marches o^ to the right, carrying the dead. S3 Scene Six Captain Isaiah Stillmans company of volunteers is seen in the act of making camp. Everything is being done in a haphazard and unmilitary style; horses are picketed, tents unfolded, and fires lighted, all at once. Captain Stillman, the only uniformed man in the troop, sits brooding over the disorder. A SOLDIER Look here, Captain, I want to go home for overnight. CAPTAIN STILLMAN Where do you Hve ? A SOLDIER Down below Dixon's. CAPTAIN STILLMAN You mean you want to go home over to-morrow night. SOLDIER I 'low I could get back in two or three days. CAPTAIN STILLMAN Now I can't have this sort of thing. What if Black 55 Hawk should attack us ? I'm responsible for the dis- cipline of this company. SOLDIER I suppose it would be awkward for you if the Indians should come and scalp us, and we wa'nt all on hand. CAPTAIN STILLMAN, (rising.) What do you want to go for ? SOLDIER Well, my crop is getting in bad shape, and me off here soldiering. I'm not doing any good here. We don't even know where the Indians are. If we did, I'd be the first to get out and shoot the whole tribe of 'em. CAPTAIN STILLMAN No you wouldn't. I have been elected Captain of this company and I won't give up my rights. Enter a tall young trooper on horseback. THE YOUNG TROOPER How d'ye do, Captain ? Have you seen any real live fighting Indians ? CAPTAIN STILLMAN No. Neither have I. THE YOUNG TROOPER THE SOLDIER Do I go, or don't I, Cap ^ 56 CAPTAIN STILLMAN Go, or I'll put you in irons. {Exity The Soldier.) THE YOUNG TROOPER I hear there's been trouble down the river. Captain Sttllman starts up violently. The soldiers down there haven't enough to eat. It's pretty serious. CAPTAIN STILLMAN, sud- denly hospitable. Won't you stay to breakfast ? THE YOUNG TROOPER Thank you, no. I'm pretty hearty, and they say there's plenty of wild onions down yonder. Exit the Young Trooper, saluting awk- wardly. CAPTAIN STILLMAN Who is that fellow ? A CORPORAL I don't know. Came from down in Sangamon County, I guess. Enter, on horseback, a young woman; she is evidently tired, having ridden a long way. She reins up, looks around the camp, and her eyes light on Captain Still- man s uniform. She dismounts quickly, leaving her horse to a couple of rangers, and goes over to the Captain. The men croiud forward to hear what is said. THE YOUNG WOMAN Oh, General this is such a rehef. I've been so frightened. CAPTAIN STILLMAN There, there. It's all right now. We'll protect you. There's no danger. THE YOUNG WOMAN You're so good. It has been a terrible experience. But I feel quite calm now. CAPTAIN STILLMAN That 's right, that 's right. How can we serve you, miss ? THE YOUNG WOMAN Why, General, the Indians have burned our barn. Burned it right to the ground, and three wagon-loads of fodder in it. I want you to go right after them. We can't have our property destroyed this way. You've got to do something. CAPTAIN STILLMAN Do something! Show me the Indians, and I'll show you. Won't we, boys ? THE COMPANY Well we should say so! Indians! THE YOUNG WOMAN Are you General Atkinson ? CAPTAIN STILLMAN I am Captain Stillman, of Stillman's Volunteer Rangers, at your service. 58 THE YOUNG WOMAN Oh, that's too bad. Pa told me to tell General Atkin- son himself. CAPTAIN STILLMAN Well it's just as well you found me. I'll go after 'em for you. A Scout comes running in. THE SCOUT Three Indians, Captain, with a white flag. THE YOUNG WOMAN I hope, sir, I'm not going to see you temporize with these robbers. CAPTAIN STILLMAN Observe me, Miss. I trust I shall not disgrace my uniform. The three Indians with the truce flag are brought in. The spokesman stands for- ward, shakes ofl- the rangers luith dignity, and begins to speak. THE INDIAN Is it to the Great White Beaver that we make salutation } CAPTAIN STILLMAN, testily: No, it is not. Who is this White Beaver ? THE CORPORAL The Indians call General Atkinson the White Beaver. CAPTAIN STILLMAN Well I don't see why everybody takes me for old General Atkinson. THE YOUNG WOMAN It's your uniform. THE INDIAN I come from Black Hawk — CAPTAIN STILLMAN Leave out the palaver — THE YOUNG WOMAN Remember, sir, no compromise with these savages. THE INDIAN My message is for the White Beaver — THE CORPORAL Then why didn't you take it to him } CAPTAIN STILLMAN You'll deliver your message to me. Where's Black Hawk ^ THE INDIAN I can not give you the message of our Chief — THE CORPORAL Look here, Cap, we'd better hold these three fellows. CAPTAIN STILLMAN Take them out there and tie them to a tree. Old Black Hawk will come after them, and we will get him yet. THE YOUNG WOMAN What strategy! THE CORPORAL Come along, Injuns. There is a great shout at this, and the Indians resist. The camp is instantly in an uproar. The Indians are finally hus- tled off at the lefty when the Scout runs in from the right , shouting. THE SCOUT Here comes Black Hawk. On the heels of the Scout comes Black Hawk in a towering rage, riding into the center of the camp. THE YOUNG WOMAN Now, Captain! BLACK HAWK Where are my messengers whom I sent you with my peace flag ? CAPTAIN STILLMAN Messengers ? BLACK HAWK What does it mean, chief of the white men, that you take our envoys, and that you violate our truce flag ? If this is the kind of war you off^er, look to yourselves. I demand that my people be returned to me. THE CORPORAL Was that a peace-flag ? We thought it was a kerchief. The camp breaks into loud laughter and Black Hawk rides out raging. Many of the rangers follow along after htm, shouting and laughing. The others turn again to their tasks. THE YOUNG WOMAN Are you going to let him get away ? Aren't you going to send somebody to see where he goes ? A shot is heard from the lefty followed quickly by others. Men appear, running back from that direction, shouting. A FUGITIVE It's the whole Sauk nation. Indians! The rush continues, other men running across from the left and all in terror. Captain Stillman looks about for his sword, finds it, and attempts to stem the panic. The Toung Woman follows him up, and he brings her back, putting her in the lee of the tree, right center, and going back to his task. He is instantly swept along with the rout, and every one of the rangers is seen to flee. Almost on their heels Black Hawk enters, followed by about twenty of his band. They pursue hotly, now and then pausing to load their mus- kets, and in a moment they have all passed, and the stage is left clear, save for the young woman and the camp equipment. 62 THE YOUNG WOMAN My, what a battle! I ought to have gone for General Atkinson, as pa said. She goes up stage, looking about for her horse, but not finding it. Here's a fix. They've got my horse. Shakes her fist after them. Enter the Toung Trooper. THE YOUNG TROOPER Thought I heard shooting. Where's Cap Stillman } THE YOUNG WOMAN He's run away. THE YOUNG TROOPER Have the Indians been here "t THE YOUNG WOMAN I should say so. There's been a battle. Stillman's company is retreating. THE YOUNG TROOPER A battle ? And I missed it. (^He dismounts.) THE YOUNG WOMAN You 're bleeding, THE YOUNG TROOPER Yes. I too have been fighting a desperate battle, with the mosquitoes. THE YOUNG WOMAN I'm so disappointed. 63 THE YOUNG TROOPER You can't be any more disappointed than I am. THE YOUNG WOMAN How am I to get home ? THE YOUNG TROOPER Where do you live ? THE YOUNG WOMAN Down below Dixon's Ferry. Where are you from ^ THE YOUNG TROOPER I hate to confess it, Miss, in the present circumstances, but I'm Captain of a company up the river. I came down here foraging. You better take my horse. THE YOUNG WOMAN That's mighty good of you. He helps her to mount. Where shall I send him back? THE YOUNG TROOPER Never mind about that — I'll trade him for yours. THE YOUNG WOMAN How'U you get back to your company, Captain. THE YOUNG TROOPER ril walk. THE YOUNG WOMAN Good bye. THE YOUNG TROOPER Good bye. She rides of, and he follows, on foot, carry- ing his bundle of wild onions. After a few moments^ the Indians of Black Hawk's band come back, and pick up the camp equipment, carrying it off, and leaving the stage clear. WHITE CLOUD ANITOU, THESE ARE IDLE THINGS. I SEE THROUGH ALL THIS FLAME AND FIGHT, THE WINTER FALL; WE COME FROM BARREN VICTORIES TO BEG For food. And while we stand aside and sulk, Desiring war but never daring it, The pale-face beaver people build their dams, The furrows creep across the hunting grounds. And foolish treaties bind us to our woe. For one swift hour the glory of our dawn Shone out while Black Hawk claimed his own, and made The border ring with panic at his wrath; For he was one who dared to love his land And lead his warriors, as a chieftain still. But beaver work stands firm against the frost, While eagles flee before the winter stars; We watch the leafage of our state drift down While here they build another, fashioned strong By laws we may not learn, and mysteries 65 They offer us too late. For us the trail Leads on to night. Great Manitou, my prayer Is granted, and my darkened eyes behold The ruin of our nations. Oak, I make My sacrifice to thee, and so depart Wise in thy bitter dream, uncomforted. The music changes, the lights go doiuriy and twenty-eight years are supposed to elapse. A torchlight procession appears, bearing transparencies, and singings the occasion being Lincoln's first Campaign. Lincoln appears, riding in a gig, and the procession closes. There is a slight pause, and the Pioneer s Chorus IS heard; the various characters of the Pageant march past, in reversed chronological order, Marquette and the Great Sachem of the Illinois coming last. CHORUS OF PIONEERS Not ours the roads the Romans laid. Not ours the old world, trodden way. Nor any path beneath the shade Of ancient law or sceptered sway; No cypresses in ordered lines, No towers upon the beetling crest, — Our trails are linked across with vines, We find new ways, and may not rest Until we know the hidden streams That stray from out the guarded West. 66 We search the lakes out, shore by shore, Till all the waters shall be known As our familiar trading lore, By star and sun and land-mark stone; The rivers we must break to bear The argosies of coming peace, And virgin lands must learn to wear The mantle of the golden fleece; We may not pause for death or fear Nor turn until our need shall cease. 67 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 751 917 5 ^