His flesh quivered as he lay there, and Jasper bent over him in pity.
"Waubeno, do you suffer?"
"The stars do not complain, white brother. The clouded sun does not complain. The winds complain, and the waters, and women and children. Waubeno does not complain."
A spasm shook his frame. It passed.
"White brother, go beyond the Mississippi and teach my people. You do pity them. This was once their paradise. They loved it. They struggled. Go to them with the Book of God."
"Waubeno, I will go."
"The sun sets over the Mississippi. 'Tis sunset there. You will go to the land of the sunset?"
"Yes, Waubeno. I feel in my heart the call to go. I love and pity your people."
"Pour water upon me; I am burning. I shall go when the moon comes up, when the moon comes up into the shady sky. My father suffered, but he did not complain. Waubeno does not complain. Don't pity me. Pity my poor people. I love my people. Teach my people, and cover me forever with a blanket of the earth."
He lay on the cool grass under the trees for several hours in terrible agony, and the people watched by his side.