On the morning of the thirtieth, the gallant little detachment set off to the northeast. Travel the first day was slow, as they met with two deep streams. Horses had to be swum across and baggage rafted over, all of which took a deal of time and hard labor. It was, therefore, the evening of the second day before the horsemen reached the celebrated Blue Mounds, two heavily wooded peaks of great beauty, which were a landmark for travelers for miles around. Camp was made in an open grove at the foot of these lofty hills. “We are now only twenty miles from the Four Lakes,” stated Dodge.[B] [B] Between two of these lakes, Mendota and Monona, is now situated the city of Madison, capital of Wisconsin. “’Bout four years ago, on a trappin’ trip,” declared Bill Brown, “I camped on high ground betwixt two o’ them lakes. Purtiest bodies o’ water I ever clapped eyes on.” “They are, indeed, unrivaled for beauty,” nodded the Colonel. “There was an Injun village nearby, on the lake bank, as I recall it,” went on Brown. “It’s still there,” asserted Dodge. “Winnebago village of the noted chief, White Crow.” “That’s it, Colonel. I ’member the White Crow real plain. He’d lost one eye in a brawl. Fer that reason he bore the Injun name of Kaukishkaka (The Blind).” “The Crow has a checkered history in this present Sac war,” averred Dodge, with a dubious shake of the head. “I thought he was a friend of the whites,” interposed Tom Gordon. “Wasn’t he the chief who got Black Hawk to ransom the two white girls taken captive at Davis Farm?” “Yes,” admitted the officer, “it is true that the Crow was the go-between in recovering the two Hall sisters from the Sacs. He played a splendid role in that affair. But since that time, his actions and words have been increasingly suspicious. Our spies now report that he is trying his level best to deliver the Winnebagoes into an alliance with Black Hawk.” “Thunderation!” said Brown, “let’s hope that the Winnebagoes don’t take up the bloody hatchet.” “It would present us with a terrible problem,” shuddered Dodge. “I think that the Crow and the other Winnebago chiefs could put at least three hundred hard-riding braves in the saddle.” The route now led due east from the Blue Mounds, over a rolling prairie country. The grassy hollows were wet from the recent rains, offering slippery footing for the horses. Loud guffaws arose, as several awkward riders were pitched off their mounts. Sometimes the elevations were covered with thickets, in which the dogs that followed the detachment would now and then rouse up one or more deer. The first long bound of the startled animal was the signal for a hot chase. Several times the dogs caught up with the fleeing beasts, but were never strong enough to pull them down. Camp, at late afternoon, was pitched in a glade that ran down to the shore of the most southerly of the Four Lakes, known to the whites as the First Lake. The Winnebagoes called it Ke-gon-sa.