em some injustice. Certain it is, the
Indians themselves think so; quite unanimously, too. The Indians, in
deed, protest against the backwoodsman's view of them; and some think
that one cause of their returning his antipathy so sincerely as they do,
is their moral indignation at being so libeled by him, as they really
believe and say. But whether, on this or any point, the Indians should
be permitted to testify for themselves, to the exclusion of other
testimony, is a question that may be left to the Supreme Court. At any
rate, it has been observed that when an Indian becomes a genuine
proselyte to Christianity (such cases, however, not being very many;
though, indeed, entire tribes are sometimes nominally brought to the
true light,) he will not in that case conceal his enlightened
conviction, that his race's portion by nature is total depravity; and,
in that way, as much as admits that the backwoodsman's worst idea of it
is not very far from true; while, on the other hand, those red men who
are the greatest sticklers for the theory of Indian virtue, and Indian
loving-kindness, are sometimes the arrantest horse-thieves and
tomahawkers among them. So, at least, avers the backwoodsman. And
though, knowing the Indian nature, as he thinks he does, he fancies he
is not ignorant that an Indian may in some points deceive himself almost
as effectually as in bush-tactics he can another, yet his theory and his
practice as above contrasted seem to involve an inconsistency so
extreme, that the backwoodsman only accounts for it on the supposition
that when a tomahawking red-man advances the notion of the benignity of
the red race, it is but part and parcel with that subtle strategy which
he finds so useful in war, in hunting, and the general conduct of life.'

"In further explanation of that deep abhorrence with which the
backwoodsman regards the savage, the judge used to think it might
perhaps a little help, to consider what kind of stimulus to it is
furnished in those forest histories and traditions before spoken of. In
which behalf, he would tell the story of the little colony of Wrights
and Weavers, originally seven cousins from Virginia, who, after
successive removals with their families, at last established themselves
near the southern frontier of the Bloody Ground, Kentucky: 'They were
strong, brave men; but, unlike many of the pioneers in those days,
theirs was no love of conflict for conflict's sake. Step by step they
had b