The people _were_ provoked to war, and the Americans learned to know Black Hawk. He and his warriors came mounted and armed into the country which they still claimed as their own, and broke up the settlements of the white intruders, killing whole families and destroying their dwellings. Generals Scott and Atkinson were sent out against them. But an enemy more formidable than the red man went with them, and thinned their ranks more remorselessly than the hatchet of the savage. This was the cholera. The troops embarked in steamboats at Buffalo, and the disease made its first appearance on board. Great numbers died; great numbers also deserted on landing, and fled to the woods, where they perished either from the disease or starvation. Scott was not able to reach the scene of action. Atkinson, by forced marches, came up with Black Hawk’s party on the 2nd of August, near the mouth of the Upper Iowa. The Indians were routed and dispersed, and Black Hawk and his two sons and several great warriors made prisoners. Nothing in the history of humanity is much sadder than the putting down and destroying the last remnants of these once powerful tribes. Driven out from their fertile lands, thousands literally died of starvation; and if, as in the case of the Sacs, they were headed by a chief of superior intellect, who could not patiently submit to be uprooted like a weed from the soil of his fathers, and who clung to it with a love as intense as that of the Swiss for his mountains, then fire and sword swept him and his followers from the land, and they were killed as traitors. God sees these things, and permits them; nevertheless they are great iniquities. Black Hawk and his sons were sent to Fort Jefferson, and put in irons; they were taken to Washington, and had an interview with President Jackson, when a treaty was concluded, and the captives relinquished all claim to their territory, and consented to remove west of the Mississippi. After this they were taken through several of the eastern cities, that they might see the power and greatness of the whites, and how hopeless it was to contend against them. Black Hawk ended his days on the Des Moines river, where his people had settled. He had a bark cabin, which he furnished, in imitation of the whites, with chairs, a table, a mirror, and mattresses. He was no longer the great warrior; in the summer he is said to have cultivated a few acres of land, on which he grew corn, melons, and other vegetables. His last speech was at Fort Madison, on the 4th of July, a festival to which he had been invited, and thus he spoke: “It has pleased the Great Spirit that I am here to-day. I have eaten with my white friends. The earth is our mother; we are now on it, with the Great Spirit above us. It is good. I hope we are all friends here. A few winters ago I was fighting against you. Perhaps I did wrong—but that is past; it is buried—let it be forgotten. Rock River was a beautiful