by Harvey Lee Ross

Pages 14-17

To continue the story of the Indian fight as described last week: The company of men raised in Lewistown numbered fifteen, all on horseback and each with a gun. Among those in the company were Robert Grant, John Jewell, Wm. Johnson, John and Wm. Nicholls, Moses Freeman, Isaac Benson, O. M. Ross and Edward Plude. Freeman and Benson had come a few weeks before from the East, and were engaged at the time in putting the counters and shelves in a store room for my father that stood on the Harris corner in Lewistown. Plude was a Frenchman, and kept store in a frame house where Ewan’s hardware store now stands.

When the company got to the Illinois river at Havana they were joined by the keel-boat crew that had had the fight with the Indians the day before, with the exception of Kelsey, who had been badly used up in the fight and was not able to go with them. The men all got on the ferry boat and took as many horses as they could crowd on the boat, and started across the river. Some squaws a little way down the river saw the men coming; they ran up the bank and told the Indians that a great company of white men were coming with guns. Plude understood the Indian language, and knew what he squaws said to the Indians. The Indians instantly took the alarm and started on the run. Some went to their canoes and poled off up the river, and some ran to the woods. The men followed the Indians that ran to the woods

15

until they got into the swamps and marshes a few miles up the river, and then they had to give up the chase.

The company came back to Mallory’s house where the fight had taken place the day before. They found some pools of blood, and a short distance away they found two new-made graves, showing that the fight had been a hard one and that at least two Indians had been killed with clubs besides the one whose throat was cut on the ferry boat. They also found that no more than eight or ten gallons of whisky had been taken from Mallory’s barrel, and that his household goods had not been touched. So that ended the fight of Ross’ ferry for that time.

Mallory ad Nicholls kept the ferry for abut a year after that and never had any further trouble with the Indians. My father then moved to Havana and took charge of the ferry himself.

The Indian that had his throat cut floated down the river and landed in some driftwood at the head of an island three miles below Havana. We had often heard the hunters tell of the Indian’s bones lying in the driftwood there. At that time was living with my father John Herriford, who was so long a resident at Bernadotte, and he was well known to many of the pioneer of Fulton county. One Sunday John went down to the island and brought up the Indian’s skull and jawbone. As soon as I saw them I decided to have a good deal of sport in frightening the Indians, who were very superstitious. I thoroughly cleaned the skull and jawbone, and fastened them on a jackstaff about four feet long, sharpened at the lower end to be stuck into the ground. I then fixed the skull so that I could put into it a lighted candle. When the scarecrow was set up of a dark night, with the candle lighted and shining out of the eye sockets, ears, nose, and through the gleaming white teeth, it was certainly the most terrifying object mortal ever beheld. About a mile above Havana there were eighteen or twenty wigwams of Indians, and they were in the habit of coming to town every week to do some trading, and would frequently stay until after dark before starting

16

home. I knew the path they traveled and would have the ghost set up a few rods from their path. When they would discover my hideous ghost they would start on the run as fast as their legs could carry them, frightened nearly into convulsions. It made a great commotion among the Indians for awhile, but my father found out what was going on and put a sudden stop to all my fun. One day a steamboat landed at the wharf and I went down to it with my scarecrow. The pilot paid me $2 for the outfit to put upon the bow of his boat at night to scare the natives along the river.

Soon after my father went to Havana he built three warehouses, one on the east side of the river and two on the west side. One of these was north of Spoon river, and the other on the south side. They were built of hewed logs and were used to store the produce of farmers and the merchandise of the merchants who lived on both sides of the river. The upper part of the warehouse on the Havana side of the river he finished off for a store and opened therein a stock of goods. The nearest stores to him was at Lewistown, twelve miles away on the west, and New Salem, twenty-five miles east. The Phelpses had established a trading post, two years before, on Grand Island, nine miles below Havana; but when my father opened his store they closed out their business on the island and moved to Yellowbanks (now Oquawka) on the Mississippi river.

My father had a large trade with the Indians, for they were scattered all over the country up and down the Illinois river and both sides of the Spoon river. Their wigwams could be counted by the hundreds. About the mouth of Spoon river was a great resort for their Indian ponies. Hundreds of them would be brought there every fall to feed on the grass that kept green all winter; and if there was a deep snow the Indians would chop down small trees for their ponies to browse upon until the snow went off. My father would often sell them goods on credit of six months, but would require a recommendation from some of their chiefs, which made them very punctual to pay their debts. The Indians were very numerous in all that country until in 1832 when the Black Hawk war broke out and they all went west.

17

These Indians at a certain stage of the moon each fall held a great religious festival on the island just in front of Havana. It was then a very heavily timbered and picturesque spot. The

Indians would congregate there in hundreds, and their religious rites and ceremonies would last four days. They had an abundance of good things to eat, and put in much of the time singing and dancing. One of their ceremonies was to burn a live dog to death. They would select a small white dog and make his feet fast with four wooden pins which they would drive in the ground, and then pile wood and brush over him until he was covered four or five feet deep. They would set fire to the pile and then gather in a ring about it. When the dog would commence to burn he would set up the terrific and awful howling that was ever heard. His cries would ring through the woods for half a mile. When the dog would commence howling, the Indians would set up some doleful and dismal dirge and keep it up as long as the dog kept howling. Then followed a war-dance and that would be the end of the festival. My brother Leonard was present at one time when they made a sacrifice of a little dog. He was only about seven or eight years old, but when the little dog made such a terrible yelping he wanted to clean out the whole Indian tribe.

There were many singular customs and tragic events relating to these Indians that I may detail as I proceed with my narrative.

PREV          NEXT