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Updated: June 16, 2025
He shook his head and said, "I have sent express after express for him, and have offered him great sums of money to come and bring the Pottawatomies and Kickapoos with him." He refused, saying, "Your British father has not enough money to induce me to join you. I have now laid a trap for him. I have sent Gomo and a party of Indians to take him prisoner and bring him here alive.
The Indian leader spoke for the first time, his voice deep and guttural. "The Pottawattomies have met in council with the White Chief and the Long Knife," he said soberly, "and have smoked together the peace-pipe. For what have the white men come to disturb Gomo and his warriors?" I gazed at him with new interest.
His long frontier experience had taught him the danger that lay in exhibiting timidity in the face of Indian scorn. "Gomo," he said firmly, "and you other Chiefs of the Pottawattomies, there has never been war between us. We have traded together for many seasons; you have eaten at my table, and I have rested by your fires.
What they tell me I have to do." "White Chief lies!" was the short, stern answer. "Winnemeg brought no such word." So furious were the many dark, glowering faces, that I braced myself, thinking the next moment would be one of struggle for life or death; but Gomo held them motionless with a wave of his hand. He rose slowly to his feet, and faced us with grave dignity.
It has no reference to myself or people, but to my friend Gomo, the Pottawattomie chief. He came to Rock river to pay me a visit, and during his stay he related to me the following story: "The war chief at Peoria is a very good man. He always speaks the truth and treats our people well.
"Gomo, the great war-chief of the Pottawattomies, has spoken well," he said in a deep voice that rolled like distant thunder. "The Wyandots did not know; they war not with Frenchmen, nor harm the women of the Pottawattomies. The Great Spirit hath made us brothers, and we have smoked together the pipe of peace."
Here we found two lodges of Pottawattomies. They received us in a very friendly manner, and gave us something to eat. I inquired about their friends who were with the British. They said there had been some fighting on the Illinois river, and that my friend, the Peoria trader, had been taken prisoner. "By Gomo and his party?" I immediately inquired.
Gomo turned and looked about him upon the expectant warriors; and, as if the glance was an invitation to free speech, one sitting half-way across the circle asked gruffly: "Why you pour out rum, if you love Pottawattomie?" "Because I am only the White Chief at Dearborn," returned Heald, facing the questioner, "and, like Peesotum who asks, have higher chiefs elsewhere whom I must obey.
Gomo had returned from the British army, and brought news of their defeat near Malden. He told us that he went to the American chief with a flag, gave up fighting, and told him he desired to make peace for his nation. The American chief gave him a paper to the war chief at Peoria, and I visited that fort with Gomo.
Heald looked about upon the scowling circle with disbelief so clearly expressed in his eyes, that Gomo, reading it, turned to his warriors and called upon them one by one to say if he spoke the truth. I heard him speak thus to Little Sauk, Black Bird, Topenebe, Mankia, Pipe Bird, Peesotum, and Ignance; and each answered with the low grunt of assent.
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