A Captain Challenged by His Men
At the outset of the Black Hawk War, an outbreak of Indians in Illinois, the popularity of Abraham Lincoln induced the young men of the Sangamon Valley, in forming a company of mounted riflemen, to vote him as their captain. The forces were very irregular irregulars, did no fighting as a body, and were insubordinate to the last. Once it was in an ironically amusing manner. The commander had saved a friendly Indian from a beating, that being General Cass’ order, as well as what his humanity prompted, though at the same time there had been Indian tragedy in his own family, and he had the racial Indian hatred in his blood. The mutineers threatened still to shoot the captive.
“Not unless you shoot me!” rejoined the taunted commander.
The men recoiled; but one voiced the general sentiment in:
“This is cowardly on your part, Lincoln, presuming on your rank!”
“If any of you think that, let him test it here and now!” was the reply, equally as oblivious of military decorum.
But they flinched, for he was larger and lustier than anybody else.
“You can level up,” he said, guessing their reasoning; “choose your own weapons.”
The more sane roared with laughter at this monstrous offer on the superior’s part, and the good feeling was renewed between chief and file.