The camp-fires of five hundred Iroquois glowed in the frosty night air, the smoke hovering above like a drifting cloud under the moon. Some of the five hundred lay sleeping, their weapons close to their hands, while others were standing guard against possible danger. Many weeks had passed since they had hounded the Illinois out of the valley of the river that bore their name, and now all up and down its length was quiet. No Illinois village along the shores sent the smoke of its lodge-fires upwards. No winter hunting party camped by the frozen stream. At the same time, though deserted by its ancient dwellers, the valley was not wanting signs of the thing which had caused their departure. The moon which that night hung over the returning Iroquois shone upon all the length of the river, revealing scenes for a hundred leagues that spoke as plainly of the Iroquois passing as does the track in fresh snow tell of the passing of a wolf.
The trail began at the great village of the Kaskaskias. Here the pale light fell upon the half-burned ruins of lodges, the scattered contents of the caches, the desecrated graveyard, and the wolves that with savage howls still hung about the town their human cousins had ravaged. Down the river went the trail marked by ashes of deserted camps, past the lodges of the Peorias, the ruined Fort Crèvec?ur, and the ribs of the unfinished ship gleaming white in the moonlight. Then came the ashes of more camps, always facing each other as they followed the river down to the open meadow near the mouth where stood the grim figures of the tortured Tamaroas.
No, the trail of the Iroquois was not hard to trace in the Illinois Valley. Nor was it a difficult task for an Indian to find the route they had taken when, after massacring the Tamaroas, they had moved across country to the valley of the Ohio River many leagues to the southeast. The Iroquois warriors, proud of their victories and glorying in their cruel deeds, traveled with little fear. Laden with furs and plunder, with scores of Illinois slaves in their camp, they did not know that they were being followed. But they were. The Kaskaskia chief, Paessa, who had set out with a war band against the Sioux before the Iroquois raid, had now come back to the valley of his nation only to find ruins and the well-marked trail of the Iroquois.
There were only a hundred in the band, but in their desire for revenge they knew no such thing as numbers. With fury adding to their speed they started upon the track of the enemy and now night by night through the Ohio Valley their camp-fires were coming nearer to those of the Iroquois. The Iroquois were moving on toward home. Far to the east lay their villages of long houses in the land where the Ohio River had its northern source. They had scattered the Illinois and devastated their country. The weaker Miamis they had not harmed, perhaps because they had not yet found it to their advantage. But now they were entering the hunting-grounds of the Miamis who ranged from the Lake of the Illinois south as far as the Ohio.
They happened one day upon a party of Miami hunters and without hesitation the Iroquois fell upon them, killing some and adding others to the Illinois prisoners whom they were carrying home. The winter descended upon them with such vigor that they halted and built three forts at the corners of a triangle, each fort at two leagues distance from the others. Here the Miamis sent a delegation asking for the release of their captives. But they were mocked at by the vainglorious Iroquois. Then they offered a present of three thousand beaver skins as a ransom for their men. The overbearing conquerors, having attacked their own allies, now committed an unpardonable sin against Indian custom. They accepted the gift of the Miamis, but refused to release their captives. The Miamis sadly realized that they had deserted their neighbors, the Illinois, only to ally themselves to a band of traitors.
The winter did not halt the avenging party under Paessa. And one night the daring band slipped between two of the forts and pitched camp in the middle of the Iroquois triangle. At daybreak some in those forts should taste death for the outraged graveyard and for the trampled meadow where Tamaroas had died.
But that same night two Iroquois hunters saw their camp-fire and approached to see who they were. One of the two had entered the camp when a young and rash Illinois brave, unable to contain himself, leaped upon him and struck him dead. Quick as a flash the other was gone. Their secret was out. Surprise was now impossible and the band prepared for a terrific encounter. It came with the daylight. On every side the Iroquois bore down upon them. Outnumbered five to one, the brave Illinois held their ground all through the winter day. At evening both sides withdrew. A third of the dauntless hundred were dead, among them the gallant Paessa. Yet with the morning the unconquerable band again took up the fight. Three times they hurled themselves upon the enemy. At last, seeing the hopelessness of their battle, they drew away and cleared themselves from the hated triangle.
The news of these battles in the Ohio Valley passed quickly throughout the Miami tribes. The chiefs at the great village on the headwaters of the Kankakee, near the foot of the Lake of the Illinois, pondered over the situation in council with much concern. They had allied themselves with the Iroquois against the Illinois, and now their Iroquois allies had treacherously attacked them. In view of the indomitable courage which the Illinois had just displayed in the battle of the triangle, what would happen to the Miamis when the Iroquois were gone and the Illinois tribes came back to avenge themselves upon their neighbors?
They had other important things to think about as well. A few leagues north of their village, w............