OLD FORT DEARBORN It makes my old head dizzy to recall the events of that hour across the years that have intervened.

Possibly I, as I write these words, am the only person living who has looked upon that old stockade and taken part in its tragic history.

What a marvellous change has less than a century witnessed! Once the outermost guard of our western frontier, it is now the site of one of the great cities of two continents.

To me, who have seen these events and changes, it possesses more than the wonderment of a dream.
That day, as I rode forward, I saw but little of the Fort's formation, for my eyes and thoughts were so filled with those frenzied savages that hemmed us about, and the cool deployment of the few troops that guarded our passage-way, that everything else made but a dim impression.

Yet the glimpse I obtained, even at that exciting moment, together with the subsequent experiences that came to me, have indelibly impressed each detail of the rude Fort upon my memory.
It stands before me now, clear-cut and prominent, its outlines distinct against the background of blue water or green plains.