"Whether the kind trader had at the outset any other feeling in the matter than sympathy and brotherly kindness we cannot say--we only know that in process of time Mrs. Lee became Madame Du Pin, and that they lived together in great happiness for many years after.
"The fate of Nau-non-gee, one of the chiefs of the Calumet village, and who is mentioned in the early part of the narrative, deserves to be recorded.
"During the battle of the 15th of August the chief object of his attack was one Sergeant Hays, a man from whom he had received many acts of kindness.
"After Hays had received a ball through the body, this Indian ran up to him to tomahawk him, when the Sergeant, collecting his remaining strength, pierced him through the body with his bayonet. They fell together. Other Indians running up soon dispatched Hays, and it was not until then that his bayonet was extracted from the body of his adversary.
"The wounded chief was carried after the battle to his village on the Calumet, where he survived for several days. Finding his end approaching, he called together his young men and enjoined them in the most solemn manner, to regard the safety of their prisoners after his death, and to take the lives of none of them from respect to his memory, as he deserved his fate from the hands of those whose kindness he had so ill-requited."
CAPTIVITY OF J. KINZIE, SEN.--AN AMUSING MISTAKE
It had been a stipulation of Gen. Hull at the surrender of Detroit that the inhabitants of that place should be permitted to remain undisturbed in their homes. Accordingly the family of Mr. Kinzie took up their quarters with their friends in the old mansion, which many will still recollect as standing on the north-east corner of Jefferson avenue and Wayne street.
The feelings of indignation and sympathy were constantly aroused in the hearts of the citizens during the winter that ensued. They were almost daily called upon to witness the cruelties practiced upon the American prisoners brought in by their Indian captors. Those who could scarcely drag their wounded, bleeding feet over the frozen ground, were compelled to dance for the amusement of the savages, and these exhibitions sometimes took place before the Government House, the residence of Col. McKee. Some of the British officers looked on from their windows at these heart-rending performances; for the honor of humanity we will hope such instances were rare.