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Updated: July 16, 2025
It was a weary load! No wonder that his cheeks were thin or his eyes wild! He passed on till he came to a quiet, secluded spot, where he thought himself not likely soon to be disturbed by emigration. It was sixteen miles west of the place where Jacksonville has since been built, upon the banks of the lower Mauvaisterre, seven miles from the Illinois river.
On this, his fourth migration, he had crossed the prairies from the waters of the Wabash; and having placed the wide expanse of waving plain between him and the settlements, he at length considered himself safe from pursuit. Passing by the little trading-station, where Springfield now stands, he traversed the beautiful country lying between that and the Mauvaisterre.
Two of his associates accompanied him on his journey a precaution for which he would give no reason, except that he wished to converse with them on the way. He crossed the Illinois near the mouth of the Mauvaisterre, and, turning northward, in the evening reached a cabin on the banks of M'Kee's creek, not more than ten miles from his late residence.
The beautiful valley, most inaptly called, of the Mauvaisterre, was then an unbroken wilderness. The grass was growing as high as the head of a tall man, where now well-built streets and public squares are traversed by hurrying crowds.
Leaving the house to burn at leisure, they posted away for the river, driving their prisoners before them, and a march of three hours brought them to the mouth of the Mauvaisterre.
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