"We beg the good Chief to put us ashore that hand in hand we may go to the happy hunting grounds together."
Near the first little settlement their prayer was granted.
The young officer turned to his boat with a sigh as he saw the red warriors slip their arms about each other and slowly sink to the ground to die alone and unattended.
Old Black Hawk sat in silent, stolid indifference to his fate until the curious settlers began to crowd on the boat and stare at his misery.
The Lieutenant interfered with sharp decision.
"Push those men back, Corporal!" he ordered angrily.
The crowd was roughly pushed back and the Lieutenant took Black Hawk kindly by the arm and led him into a reserved apartment where he was free from vulgar eyes.
The old man's lips tightened. He gazed at the officer steadily and spoke in measured tones:
"The young war Chief treats me with much kindness. He is good and brave. He puts himself in my place and sees all that I suffer. With him I am much pleased."
The Lieutenant bowed and left him under the protection of the guard. Courtesy to a fallen foe in the old days was the first obligation of an officer and a gentleman.