"How happy," says this gifted soul, "the Indians must have been here! I do believe Rome and Florence are suburbs compared to this capital of Nature's art."
Black Hawk's trail ran from this region of perfect beauty to the Mississippi; and long after the Sacs and Foxes were compelled to live beyond the Mississippi, the remnants of the tribes loved to return and visit the scenes of the land of their fathers.
The Indians who had plotted the firing of the prairies made two stealthy journeys along the Rock River and over the old trail under the August moon. In one of these they rode round Prairie Island, and encamped one night upon the bluff of the Eagles' Nest, under the moon and stars. Waubeno went with them, and gazed with sad eyes upon the scenes that had passed forever from the control of his people.
He saw the new cabins and corn-fields, the prairie wagons and the emigrants. One evening he passed Prairie Island, and saw the lights glimmering among the trees, and heard the singing of a hymn in the school-house, where the people had met to worship. He wished that his own people might be taught these better ways of living. He reined up his pony and listened to the singing. He wished that he might join the little company, though he did not know that Jasper was there.
He rode away amid the stacks and corn-fields. He saw that the fields were dry as powder.
Out on the prairie he turned and looked back on the lights of the settlement as they glimmered among the trees. Could he apply the torch to the dry sea of grasses around the peaceful homes?
Once, revenge would have made it a delight to his eyes to see such a settlement in flames. But Jasper's teaching had created a new view of life and a new conscience. He felt what the Tunker taught was true, and that the young soldier who had spared Main-Pogue had done a nobler deed than any act of revenge. What was that young man's motive? He pondered over these things, and gave his pony a loose rein, and rode on under the cool cover of the night under the moon and stars.