"He ought not to have gone off hunting," I answered, with some impatience. "That was their way, an’ carried on systematic-like, an’ not as we do, for play," Blott answered, helping himself to another quail. "How was that?" I asked. "After the Injuns had buried their corn and punkins an’ other truck, they went off to the west on their fall and winter hunt, takin’ five or six hundred horses an’ two or three hundred canoes." "That was an army." "Yes; an’ they often had to fight, too, with their enemies, the Sioux, an’ other Injuns. They was gone all winter, returnin’ in time to plant their corn, bringin’ with them dried meat, sellin’ their furs to the traders. After the plantin’ was done they went off agin in July on a great buffalo-hunt on the Iowa plains. So you see huntin’ with them wasn’t like it is with us, but a regular business. Try some of this ham, Gilbert; it’s sweeter’n honey. No! Why, you haven’t any more appetite than a housefly!" Blott exclaimed, helping himself to a delicate morsel. "Well, where was I? Oh, yes. Much ill-feelin’ resulted from the trick sale of the Injun lands, as you may imagin’, an’ the whites made more fuss than the others, as people always do when they’ve done anything they’re ashamed of. There wasn’t nothin’ like war, though, till one day in 1830, twenty-six years after the ball, an’ when Red Rose had long been dead an’ buried beside her father on the banks of the purlin’ Rock. Then Black Hawk bein’ off huntin’ agin, the whites took possession of the Injun village an’ burned it. They didn’t need the ground more’n they did the moon, for there was enough for all, and more, but they was crazy to git rid of the Injuns, an’ wouldn’t wait nor live up to the agreement they’d made. Finally Black Hawk, for the sake of peace, consented to move his tribe over into Iowa; but there wasn’t enough game there, it bein’ the Sioux country, an’ the ground bein’ unplowed they couldn’t raise corn, so before plantin’ time he come over into Illinois, bringin’ his women an’ children, to raise a crop to keep his people from starvin’. An’ it was this comin’ that brought on the war."[*] Our supper being over, Blott brought his story of the Black Hawk war to an end, and the horses being ready, we mounted without loss of time, and hurried forward on our journey. Mr. and Mrs. Blake were greatly surprised at my coming, as you may imagine, but their pleasure was only the more on that account, they said. This I could not help but believe, for both of them did all they could to make me feel I was welcome and at home. Blott did not stop, but hurried away; and as it was late, Mrs. Blake shortly after showed me to the room her son had occupied, saying it was mine now and always would be. Bidding her good night, I threw myself on the bed, and when at last I fell asleep, it was to dream of Standing Bear and Red Rose, which latter appeared sometimes as an Indian maiden, but more often as my own true love, Constance.