"An Indian killed your father—and what did you do?"
"My brother Mordecai avenged his death, and caused many Indians to bite the dust."
"White brother," said Waubeno, "a white man killed my father. What ought I to do?"
The men held their pipes in silence.
"My father was an innocent man," said the pioneer.
"My father was an honorable warrior," said Waubeno, "and defended his own rights—rights as dear to him as your father's, or yours, or mine. What ought I to do?" He turned to young Lincoln. "What would you do?"
"I hold that in all things right is might, and I defend the right of an Indian as I would the rights of a white man, but I never would shed any man's blood for avarice or malice. Waubeno, I would defend you in a cause of right against the world. I would rather have the approval of Heaven than the praise of all mankind."
"Brother," said Waubeno, "I believe that you speak true, but I do not know. If I only knew that you spoke true, I would not do as Mordecai did. I would forgive the white man."
The candles smoked, and the men talked long into the night. At last Thomas Lincoln and Jasper and Waubeno went home, where Mrs. Lincoln was awaiting them. They expected Abraham to follow them. They sat up that night late, and talked about the prairie country, and the prospects of the emigrants to Illinois.
"Now you had better go to rest," said Sarah Lincoln. "I will sit up until Abe comes. I do not see why he is so late to-night, when the Tunker is here, too, and the Indian boy."