man and her children; and, with three strokes to each, the
scalps of the victims being suddenly taken off, the brave flew back with
his companions, to hang the trophies in his cabin."[35] If they
succeeded in taking prisoners, it was only that they might be reserved
for the most infernal torments, and the gratification of a brutal
ferocity, not the trial and admiration of the victim's courage, was the
purpose of their infliction.[36]

The fortitude of the Indian under suffering, has often been referred to,
in evidence of moral courage. And it is certainly true, that the display
so frequently made of triumph in the hour of death by torture,
indicates,[37] in part, an elevation of character, seldom found among
more civilized men. It is, however, the elevation of a barbarian; and
its manifestations are as much the fruit of impotent rage, as of a noble
fortitude. The prisoner at the stake knows that there is no escape; and
his intense hatred of his enemies takes the form of a wish, to deprive
them of a triumph. While his flesh is crisping and crackling in the
flames, therefore, he sings of the scalps he has taken, and heaps
opprobrious epithets upon the heads of his tormentors. But his song is
as much a cry of agony, as of exultation--his pain only adopts this mode
of expression. It is quite certain, also, that he does not suffer so
deeply, as would a white man in the same circumstances. By long
exposure, and the endurance of hardships incident to his savage life,
his body acquires an insensibility akin to that of wild animals.[38] His
nerves do not shrink or betray a tendency to spasm, even when a limb is
amputated. Transmitted from one generation to another, this physical
nature has become a peculiarity of the race. And when assisted by the
fierce hatred above referred to, it is not at all strange that it should
enable him to bear with fortitude, tortures which would conquer the
firmness of the most resolute white man.[39]

The Indian's dignified stoicism has been as much exaggerated, as his
courage and fortitude. It is not quite true that he never expresses
surprise, or becomes loquacious. But he has a certain stern
impassibility of feature--a coldness of manner--which have been mistaken
for dignity. His immobility of countenance, however, may be the effect
of sluggish sensibilities, or even of dull perceptions;[40] and the
same savage vanity, which leads him to make a display of strength or
agility before friend or e