brother dead—­I see the Sauk kill them in great numbers—­I said that there would be trouble—­I turn to go to my village—­I find I have no provisions—­I say, let us go down to our white brother, and trade our powder and shot for a little—­I do so, and again turn upon my tracks, until I reach my village.”—­He here paused, and looking sternly down the room, to where two Sauks sat, pointed his finger at them and said, “The Sauk, who always tells lie of me, goes to my white brother and says—­the Ioway has killed your cattle.  When the lie (the Sauk) had talked thus to my white brother, he comes, thirty, up to my village—­we hear our brother is coming—­we are glad, and leave our cabins to tell him he is welcome—­but while I shake hands with my white brother,” he said, pointing to his forehead, “my white brother shoots me through the head—­my best chief—­three of my young men, a squaw and his[6] child.  We come from our huts unarmed—­even without our blankets—­and yet, while I shake hands with my white brother, he shoots me down—­my best chief.  My young men within, hear me shot—­they rush out—­they fire on my white brother—­he falls, four—­my people fly to the woods without their rifles.”  He then stated that four more Indians died in the forest of cold and starvation, fearing to return to their villages, and being without either blankets or guns.  At length returning, and finding that their “great chiefs” had delivered themselves up, he came to stand his trial.

The next person called was an old chief, named “Pumpkin,” who corroborated the testimony of “Big-Neck,” but had not been with the party when the Sauks were seen killing the cattle.  When he came to that part of the story where the Indian comes from his wig-wam to meet the white man, he said, nearly in the same words used by Big-neck, “While I shake hands with my white brother, my white brother shoots me down—­my best chief”—­he here paused, and lifting his eyes above the heads of the auditors, his lip curling a little, but resuming again, almost immediately, its natural position, he pronounced in a low but distinct guttural tone, the Indian word meaning “my son.”  His eye seemed fixed for a few seconds, and then, as if conscious of his weakness, and that the eyes of the great warriors of his tribe were upon him, he looked slowly round in a kind of solemn triumph, and resumed his tale.  There was a strong feeling excited in the court by the misfortune of this old man, for the “best chief” of the Ioways was his only son.  The court asked the chiefs what they thought should be done in the matter?  They spoke a few words to each other, and then answered promptly, that all they required was, that their white brother should be brought down also, and confronted with them.  The prisoners were set at liberty on their parole.