“Ugh!” urged the Prairie Wolf. “Sac, Winnebago and Fox will stand as one. Death to the pale-face!” At this juncture there was a sudden sound of “hogh!”, the mat which hung over the entrance of the lodge was raised, and a Sac warrior entered with that graceful bound which is peculiar to the race. He was a tall, finely-formed savage, with a grave, open countenance. It was Walking Cloud, famous medicine man of the Sacs. “Ho, Walking Cloud,” greeted Black Hawk with the utmost friendliness, for he had deep respect for the big medicine man, “what news do you bring?” “At sunset, oh Black Hawk, white men make camp down river.” “Near at hand?” “One hour’s journey.” “Ugh! is the number big?” “Big, very big. Many guns, horses, wagons.” “Do the soldiers have blue coats?” “Our scouts say they wear coats of deerskin.” “Ho!” said Black Hawk. “Men from village and farm.” “Good!” exclaimed Ne-a-pope. “Blue-coats from fort have not yet come.” “Blue-coats from fort maybe camp for night at the ferry,” observed the Wolf, shrewdly hitting the nail on the head. “Let us then, oh Black Hawk,” urged Ne-a-pope, “give attack before the blue-coats come.” “Blue-coats heap brave,” warned the Wolf. “Fight like wild-cats.” “Your words are well meant,” mused Black Hawk, “but I yet hope to keep more blood from spilling.” “Ugh!” snarled the Wolf disgustedly. “How so?” asked Ne-a-pope skeptically. “At daybreak I will send out three braves with a white flag to the pale-face camp. I will demand that the pale-faces withdraw from the Sac lands within the hour. Otherwise, I will order an attack.” “A wise plan,” declared the medicine man, Walking Cloud, disregarding the protestations of Ne-a-pope and the Wolf, “and one which will place the blame for further warfare on the pale-faces. If they do not retreat, give them the tomahawk.” “It is a fool’s scheme,” averred Ne-a-pope bluntly. “It will do no good,” agreed the Prairie Wolf, shaking his head doggedly. “Nevertheless, I will try it,” persisted the Hawk, rising to his feet to conclude the council. “Go to your lodges. I will summon you at sunup.” When dawn came, the Sac encampment awakened to sudden activity. The sun was barely above the horizon when Walking Cloud and three other braves rode out from the lodges toward the camp of the whites. On the end of a spear the Cloud bore a white flag, signifying that the Sacs wished to have a conference with the white militia.