the fire, he discovered a mat stretched, and an old man of sorrowful
aspect sitting under it, alone, and evidently humbling himself before
the Great Spirit, by fasting and prayer. It proved to be his old friend,
the father of his adopted son. Black Hawk seated himself beside him and
inquired what had happened, but received no answer, for indeed he seemed
scarcely alive. Being revived by some water, he looked up, recognized
the friend of his youth, and in reply to Black Hawk's second inquiry,
said, in a feeble voice,

"Soon after your departure to join the British, I descended the river
with a small party, to winter at the place I told you the white man had
requested me to come to. When we arrived, I found a fort built, and the
white family that had invited me to come and hunt near them, had removed
to it. I then paid a visit to the fort, to tell the white people that
myself and little band were friendly, and that we wished to hunt in the
vicinity of their fort. The war chief, who commanded it, told me that we
might hunt on the Illinois side of the Mississippi, and no person would
trouble us. That the horsemen only ranged on the Missouri side, and he
had directed them not to cross the river. I was pleased with this
assurance of safety, and immediately crossed over and made my winter's
camp. Game was plenty: We lived happy and often talked of you. My boy
regretted your absence, and the hardships you would have to undergo. We
had been here about two moons, when my boy went out as usual to hunt.
Night came on and he did not return. I was alarmed for his safety and
passed a sleepless night. In the morning my old woman went to the other
lodges and gave the alarm, and all turned out in pursuit. There being
snow on the ground, they soon came upon his track, and after pursuing it
some distance, found that he was on the trail of a deer, that led to the
river. They soon came to the place where he had stood and fired, and
found a deer hanging upon the branch of a tree, which had been skinned.
But here also were found the tracks of white men. They had taken my boy
prisoner. Their tracks led across the river, and then down towards the
fort. My friends followed them, and soon found my boy lying dead. He had
been most cruelly murdered. His face was shot to pieces, his body
stabbed in several places, and his head scalped. His arms were tied
behind him."

The old man ceased his narrative, relapsed into the stupor from which he
had bee