Autobiography of Ma-ka-tai-me-she-kia-kiak, or Black Hawk | Page 6

the scalps of all I
struck with one exception--that of the squaw, who was accidentally
killed. The enemy's loss in this engagement was about one hundred
braves. Ours nineteen. We then returned to our village well pleased
with our success, and danced over the scalps which we had taken.
The Osages, in consequence of their great loss in this battle, became
satisfied to remain on their own lands. This stopped for a while their
depredations on our nation. Our attention was now directed towards an
ancient enemy who had decoyed and murdered some of our helpless
women and children. I started with my father, who took command of a
small party, and proceeded against the enemy to chastise them for the
wrongs they had heaped upon us. We met near the Merimac and an
action ensued; the Cherokees having a great advantage in point of
numbers. Early in this engagement my father was wounded in the thigh,
but succeeded in killing his enemy before he fell. Seeing that he had
fallen, I assumed command, and fought desperately until the enemy
commenced retreating before the well directed blows of our braves. I
returned to my father to administer to his necessities, but nothing could
be done for him. The medicine man said the wound was mortal, from
which he soon after died. In this battle I killed three men and wounded
several. The enemy's loss was twenty-eight and ours seven.
I now fell heir to the great medicine bag of my forefathers, which had
belonged to my father. I took it, buried our dead, and returned with my
party, sad and sorrowful, to our village, in consequence of the loss of
my father.
Owing to this misfortune I blacked my face, fasted and prayed to the
Great Spirit for five years, during which time I remained in a civil
capacity, hunting and fishing.
The Osages having again commenced aggressions on our people, and
the Great Spirit having taken pity on me, I took a small party and went
against them. I could only find six of them, and their forces being so
weak, I thought it would be cowardly to kill them, but took them
prisoners and carried them to our Spanish father at St. Louis, gave them

up to him and then returned to our village.
Determined on the final and complete extermination of the dastardly
Osages, in punishment for the injuries our people had received from
them, I commenced recruiting a strong force, immediately on my return,
and stated in the third moon, with five hundred Sacs and Foxes, and
one hundred Iowas, and marched against the enemy. We continued our
march for many days before we came upon their trail, which was
discovered late in the day. We encamped for the night, made an early
start next morning, and before sundown we fell upon forty lodges,
killed all the inhabitants except two squaws, whom I took as prisoners.
Doing this engagement I killed seven men and two boys with my own
hands. In this battle many of the bravest warriors among the Osages
were killed, which caused those who yet remained of their nation to
keep within the boundaries of their own land and cease their
aggressions upon our hunting grounds.
The loss of my father, by the Cherokees, made me anxious to avenge
his death by the utter annihilation, if possible, of the last remnant of
their tribe. I accordingly commenced collecting another party to go
against them. Having succeeded in this, I started with my braves and
went into their country, but I found only five of their people, whom I
took prisoners. I afterwards released four of them, the other, a young
squaw, we brought home. Great as was my hatred of these people, I
could not kill so small a party.
About the close of the ninth moon, I led a large party against the
Chippewas, Kaskaskias and Osages. This was the commencement of a
long and arduous campaign, which terminated in my thirty-fifth year,
after having had seven regular engagements and numerous small
skirmishes. During this campaign several hundred of the enemy were
slain. I killed thirteen of their bravest warriors with my own hands.
Our enemies having now been driven from our hunting grounds, with
so great a loss as they sustained, we returned in peace to our village.
After the seasons of mourning and burying our dead braves and of
feasting and dancing had passed, we commenced preparations for our
winter's hunt. When all was ready we started on the chase and returned
richly laden with the fruits of the hunter's toil.
We usually paid a visit to St. Louis every summer, but in consequence
of the long protracted war in which we had been engaged, I had not

been there for some