THIRTY TEAES A HtJNTEB. 290 



The spirit of our fathers arose and spoke to us to 

 avenge our wrongs or die. We all spoke before the 

 council fire. It was warm and pleasant. We set up 

 the war whoop, and dug np the tomahawk ; our 

 knives were ready, and the heart of Black Hawk 

 swelled high in his bosom, when he led his warriors 

 to battle. He is satisfied. He will go to the world 

 of spirits contented. He has done his duty. His 

 father will meet him there, and commend him. 



Black Hawk is a true Indian, and disdains to cry 

 like a woman. He feels for his wife, his children 

 and friends. But he does not care for himself. He 

 cares for the nation and the Indians. They will suf- 

 fer. He laments their fate. The white men do not 

 scalp the head ; but they do worse — they poison the 

 heart; it is not pure with them. His countrymen 

 will not be scalped, but they will, in a few years, 

 become like the white men, so that you cannot trust 

 them, and there must be, as in the white settlements, 

 nearly as many officers as men, to take care of them 

 and keep them in order. 



Farewell, my nation ! Black Hawk tried to 8a v* 

 you, and avenge your wrongs. He drank the blood 

 of some of the whites. He has been taken prisoner, 

 and his plans are stopped. He can do no more. He 

 is near his end. His sun is setting, and will rise 

 no more. Farewell to Black Hawk. 



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