his squaw all. He had
six little children, and he hugged them all. Waubeno was the oldest boy.
He told him all, and pressed him to his heart. He whispered in his
ear.--What was it he said, Waubeno?"

The shadowy form of the boy swayed in the dim light, as he answered. He
said:

"'Avenge my death! Honor my memory. The Great Spirit will teach you
how.' That is what my father said to me, and I felt the beating of his
heart."

There was a deep silence. Then Black Hawk said:

"The warrior looked down on the Ouisconsin under the stars. He looked up
to heaven, and cried, 'Lead thou my boy!' Then he set his face toward
the stockades of Prairie du Chien.

"He strode across the prairie as the sun was rising; he arrived in time,
and--Father, listen!"

There was another silence, so deep that one might almost hear the
puffing smoke as it rose on the air.

"_They shot him!_ That is his boy, Waubeno."

Jasper stood silent; he thought of Johnnie Kongapod's story, and the
night-scene at Pigeon Creek.

"I shall teach him a better way," said Jasper, at last. "I will lead him
to honor the memory of his great father in a way that he does not now
know. The Great Spirit will guide us both. His father was a great man. I
will lead him to become a greater."

"Father," said the boy, coming forward, "I will always be true to you,
but I have sworn by the stars."

Jasper stood like one in a dream. Could such a tale as this be true
among savages? Honor like this only needed the gospel teaching to do
great deeds. Jasper saw his opportunity, and his love of mankind never
glowed before as it did then. He folded his hands, closed his eyes, and
his silent thoughts winged upward to the skies.

CHAPTER XI.

THE CABIN NEAR CHICAGO.

Jasper and Waubeno crossed the prairies to Lake Michigan. It was June,
the high tide of the year. The long days poured their sunlight over the
seas of flowers. The prairie winds were cool, and the new vegetation was
alive with insects and birds.

The first influence that Jasper tried to exert on Waubeno was to induce
him to forego the fixed resolution to avenge his father's death.

"The first thing in education," he used to say, "is conscience, the
second is the heart, and the third is the head."

He had planned to teach Waubeno while the Indian boy should be teaching
him, and he wished to follow his own theory that a new pupil should
first learn to be governed by his moral sense.

"Waubeno," he s