The stormy scene between the irate Dodge and the dissembling White Crow was scarcely over with, when three army couriers rode into the ranger camp bearing dispatches from General Atkinson. Riding to the northwest they had luckily cut the rangers’ trail this side of the Four Lakes, and had then tracked them down. It was now learned that Atkinson’s army had left Dixon’s Ferry on June 27, as planned. It consisted of four hundred regulars and nearly two thousand volunteer troops. On the thirtieth, the force crossed the Illinois-Wisconsin boundary at the famous turtle village of the Winnebagoes, whose inhabitants had flown at the approach of the column. From here, the White Beaver and his men pressed up the Rock River, following the Sac trail with the vehemence of blood-hounds. At the close of each day, when possible, the troops selected a camp in the timber, where they erected a protecting breastwork of logs and slept on their arms. There was a constant apprehension of a night attack, and several times prowling Sac spies were fired on by the watchful sentinels. On the second of July the army arrived at the southern limits of the great Koshkonong marshes. Here, a recently deserted Indian camp was found with white scalps hanging on the poles of the tepees. Scouts made a quick tour of the vicinity, but beyond a few stragglers nothing of importance was seen. Three Winnebagoes who were captured gave vague and contradictory testimony, and one of them was ordered shot for his treachery. The following day, too, was spent in fruitless scouting. But, on the next, the three couriers made the contact with the rangers under Dodge, who brought his men into camp on the sixth. For the march to the north the army was formed as follows. Dodge’s Rangers, together with five hundred Illinois volunteers under Brigadier-General James Henry, comprised the left wing, advancing up the west side of the swamp-lands; while the regulars, and the balance of the volunteers, scouted up the east side, across the Rock River, with Atkinson, himself, in command. In the meantime, Black Hawk, utterly dismayed at the failure of his ambuscade, and by the rapid approach of the formidable white army, fled westward from his swampy covert toward the Four Lakes, unbeknown, of course, to the advancing soldiers. But these were not long in ignorance of the Sac’s sudden sally. For, on the second afternoon, when Dodge’s Rangers had marked some twenty-five miles north of their junction point with the White Beaver, a startling discovery was made. Bright Star, the young Pottawattomee, riding well ahead of the column, was seen to become greatly agitated. He shouted and gestured frantically. “What’s got into the young chief?” puzzled Bill Brown. “Must be something important,” Ben Gordon declared. “An Injun, ordinarily, isn’t any hand to get worked up like that.” Now Bright Star turned his horse and dashed back to join the other scouts. “Come!” he cried. “What’s up, red-boy?” yelled Tom.