SOME SAVAGE VIRTUES. BY H. M. ROBINSON.1 bough threatened to scorch the cuticle, nor did the character of the plat necessitate those frequent and frantic dartings fireward to rescue some blazing fry or blackened roast, which so often obtain when man usurps the place of deft-handed woman. For the menu was pork-an aromatic comestible that sizzled, and crisped, and curled into delicate morsels of delicious hue, and sent an appetizing aroma abroad upon the wings of the storm. TOWARD mid-afternoon of an intensely cold day | tive serenity of soul. No contiguity of blazing in the month of February, of a year not long passed, the writer was sitting on the end of a fallen log in the dense wood bordering the second or lower bank of the Red River of the North. The temperature was somewhere in the forties below zero. Under the force of the fierce blasts, a little eddy of loose snow rolled into the timber from the plains beyond; at first a mere puff, not larger than one's hand. Another followed; miniature coils of snow circled about over the smooth surface, and sank back invisibly to the level again. Drifts of larger proportions rolled over the expanse, until the atmosphere became filled with crystal, scintillating, minute, almost imperceptible particles of snow, drifting on wings of air, impalpable and fleeting. The outlines of the trees were lost, and the range of vision limited to a few yards. Nearly beneath me was a fire, which, originally built upon the surface of the snow, had sunk under the influence of its own heat to the level of the earth, some four feet below. A few yards on one side stood a shaggy Indian pony, shivering under two buffalorobes; on the other, a half-dismantled sledge, or jumper, with its drift-covered load of blankets, camp equipage, and provisions. A short distance away a huge snow-drift and a projecting sledgeTunner marked the presence, or rather absence, of a companion who had disappeared into the wrack and tempest in quest of a second unkempt pony, which, an hour before, had succumbed under the fatigues of a protracted and terrible journey. The situation, upon reverting to it after this lapse of years, seems possessed of certain dramatic features; at the immediate time, however, it suggested only a favorable opportunity of preparing dinner against the return of my attendant; hence my attitude and altitude upon the splintered end of that prostrate log. Armed with a long-handled skillet, made still longer by the insertion of a stick into the handle, and muffled as to body and hands in many wraps, I sat upon the log and carried on my culinary operations at a distance of four feet, in compara 1 Late Vice-Consul at Winnipeg, British North America. Lost to the howling wind, the wrack of tempest, the sense of isolation, to everything, in fact, save the suggestive odors of the nearly-done pork, I sat, skillet in hand, until an intuitive but definite sense of companionship suddenly possessed me. I knew that I was no longer alone; I could make oath to a bodily presence beside me; yet I had heard no sound of footsteps, had seen no shadow athwart the gloom. Nevertheless, I was as certain of human companionship as if its visible presence stood before me. For a moment the paralysis of fear forbade my looking up. When I did so, I found standing beside me, so near that I could place my hand upon him from where I sat, a wild Indian! He was a gigantic fellow, of more than six feet high, and the bones of his huge frame stood out conspicuously at the joints and angles, and the muscles showed distinctly in his gaunt meagreness. His aspect was positively hideous. His large nose had been driven sideways toward his face; over one eyeless orbit was a black, greasy patch; while in his gums two long canine teeth alone remained. The man was in what seemed to be a hopeless state of destitution. A few ragged pieces of blanket were all the protection he had against the intense cold; he had no gun, ammuni tion, knife, or other appliances required by the hunter, except a small hatchet and a pair of im mense snow-shoes. All these things I took in at one quick glance. My own situation also flashed before me with inconceivable quickness. The man was a Pillageur of the Ojibway tribe, whose tender mercies to the lone stranger are cruel. I was alone, unarmed, and far from aid. A murder in those then remote solitudes would be easy of concealment. The man was armed with a hatchet, I with a skillet. So I dropped that utensil into the fire, with one bound reached the nearest sledge, and, grasping an axe, turned about and assumed the defensive. To my utter astonishment, I found the Indian down in the fire-hole, rescuing the pork from the blaze. This done, he placed the skillet carefully on the snow, clambered to the surface again, then usurped my seat upon the log and broke into a hearty laugh. It was no simulated laugh, either, but a rollicking, thoroughly amused, good-natured laugh, coming from the depths of his soul. The uplifted axe gradually dropped, as I gazed upon this gigantic son of the forest and plain, unbending at the sight of my fright and discomfiture. A sense of the utter futility of all attempts at resistance gradually stole over me, as I considered the opportunity presented him for the perpetration of crime in my entire unconsciousness of his presence for an indefinite period. At last the ludicrous picture of my flying leap, the hastily dropped skillet, the quick awakening from reverie to horror, and, above all, the sight of the savage himself, as he gazed amusedly at me for a moment, then relapsed into uncontrollable paroxysms of laughter which shook his huge frame, proved too much for my philosophy; and I joined in the merriment until the laughter rang out above the voice of the storm. Civilization and savagery united in common hilarity, and demonstrated their relationship in an equal appreciation of the ridiculous. It revealed at least one link in the chain of unacknowledged brotherhood. boyhood, than are developed by the errant children of the prairie and stream. I have seen nothing more tender among my own kindred than the treatment of helpless little ones in an Indian camp by their elders in years. True, there are exceptions to all the savage virtues which it is the purpose of this paper to note; but the exceptions may be fairly regarded as no more frequent than would be found among the uneducated of our own race, and only prove the general correctness of the rule. It has been charged against the Indian in his domestic relations that he is a brutal husband and a hard taskmaster, exacting an amount of labor at the hands of the females of his family from which he shrinks himself. Indeed, it is quite the fashion to picture the red man as sitting at an abundant meal and flinging, from time to time, a refuse bone over his shoulder to the wife of his bosom ; and as marching at the head of his following of women, encumbered only with a gun, and not always even that, while they toil painfully along under the weight of all the household goods. To any one, however, who has witnessed the arrival of a party of starving Indians at the buffalo-grounds, during the winter season, the reverse of the picture presents itself. Day by day, family after family come straggling in a spectral cavalcade; the men gaunt and wan, marching before skeleton dogs, almost literally skin and bone, with hide drawn tightly and unpadded over "crate and basket, ribs and spine;" dragging painfully along sledges as attenuated and empty of provisions as themselves. The women and children bring up the rear, who, to the I know there are many people who regard the credit of the men, are in far better case; indeed, Indian as an austere savage who never laughs save tolerably plump, and contrasting strongly with the at the agonies of his bleeding victims, and who, fleshless forms of the other sex. Although the like Mrs. Merdle, has "no begad nonsense" about Indian squaws and children are kept in subjection, him; and I have related this incident to show that and the work falls principally upon them, it is one red man, at least, was as ready to place a bent erroneous to suppose that they are ill-treated, or pin upon the seat of his fellow as the most civilized that the women labor harder or endure greater among us. Indeed, a considerable experience leads hardships than the men. The Indian is constantly me to believe that the Indian is possessed of a vast engaged in hunting, to supply his family with food; fund of mirth and humor, although in later life, and when that is scarce, he will set out without perhaps, tempered somewhat by the vicissitudes of any provision himself, and often travel from mornhis existence, and the stamp which his nature re-ing till night for days before he finds the game he ceives from the regions in which he dwells. Young seeks; then, loaded with meat, he toils home again, savage life is full of a certain wild hilarity, of prac- and whilst the plenty lasts, considers himself entitical jokes, and of the humor pertinent to its age; tled to complete rest after his exertions. Much in and it may be seriously doubted whether the youth the same manner does the merchant or hard-worked of our own race entertain more kindly feelings mechanic repair to his home after the day's toil, towards each other, during the sports and games of assume his gown and slippers and settle down to VOL. VIII.-18 absolute rest, while expecting of his wife the continuance of her household labors. The red man, as a rule, manages his family admirably. A child is seldom heard to cry, and matrimonial squabbles seem unknown. He is an affectionate husband and father, and his wife and children obey him at a word, evidently looking up to him as a superior being, to be loved with respect. In return, the red man's first thought is for his little one. In the barter of his furs, the first purchase is blanketing for tiny backs, a capote for some toddling papoose, a bright handkerchief for little Thisbe; then come the powder and ball, the flints and fishing-tackle for his own use; and lastly the wife gets her share, not because least in estimation, but on account of the importance of the first two; the children's outfit being a matter of common pride, the ammunition a matter of common necessity to the existence of all. That the love of man and wife is deep and lasting, is capable of ample proof, and instances would only serve unduly to extend this paper. In one of the graves in a certain burying ground, near one of the forts in the north country, is fixed a pole, from which are suspended several buttons, a tobacco-bag of bark and beads, a piece of tobacco, and a human hand dried and stuffed. This is the grave of an Indian's wife. She was young, handsome, and apparently healthy, but a concealed disease affected her heart, and one day she fell down in a fit and died. Her husband was absent at the time, but on returning his grief was terrible. He refused all sustenance, lingered about the grave of his wife, and was finally found lying across its head with his arms extended over it, stone dead. Another Indian, meeting with a similar loss, went away into the mountains and lived there for two years without seeing a human being. A Blackfeet chief, in speaking to a missionary, said: "If you wish to do anything with my people, you must no longer order them to put away their wives. I have eight, all of whom I love, and who all have children by me; which shall I keep, and which put away? Tell those who have only one wife not to take more, but do not talk about putting away wives already married." The Maiden's Rock, on Lake Pepine, bears similar testimony. The hand of a beautiful girl was sought by two lovers; the one a brave warrior, the other a quiet hunter. The latter she loved, the former her friends would constrain her to marry. The intensity of her affection chose death rather than the life of the brave's wife. And she cast herself down from this rock into the blue waters, and sealed the warmth of her love with her life. Nor is the Indian indisposed to toil, as many hold. His aversion to agricultural and mechanical labor is almost invariably attributed to mere laziness. Those, however, who have lived much among them know this to be a mistaken idea, derived from a limited observation of that class of aborigines frequenting the frontier, who, in adopting only the vices of the white man, have been degraded thereby into loafers. But the Indian of the plain and forest is not a lazy man. No man labors harder than he is accustomed to do in the chase, in carrying meat to the camps, or in trapping or fishing excursions. But the necessities of nomadic life are few, and when these wants are satisfied, the Indian rests from arduous toil. Sufficient for the day only is his labor, for, has he not the same forests, the same streams, the same prairies from which to glean his sustenance for the morrow? Continuous labor would fill his lodge with robes and peltries, with dried meat and pemmican; but, if he does so, he merely accumulates provision for distribution to others. We blame the red man for not laying by supplies against the inevitable rainy day under circumstances where it is impossible for him to do so. He is the only perfect socialist or communist in the world. Everything is held in common with his tribe the prairies, the forest, the streams, the bison, and the deer. The camp is starving, and an Indian kills a buffalo. Instead of claiming the carcass as his own, the coveted food, to the last bit, is shared by all. A war-party takes a rich booty by a raid into an enemy's country; and the whole tribe are free to help themselves to the best ponies, the largest tepees, the brightest blankets, before the captors touch an article of the plunder. There is but a single fish, a thin badger, a scrap of wolf.in the lodge, and a stranger comes and asks for food. He is given his share first, is first served, and best attended. Nor is this simply tribal custom, but often true generosity. A missionary is making a long winter's journey. As guides and helpers he takes three Indians, as yet outside the pale of religious influence. Their provisions are exhausted, and for two full days they have eaten nothing. At last a single fish is caught by one of the Indians. Instead of eating it at once, as their intense hunger would dictate, they bring it to the missionary and insist upon his eating it. Nor will they touch it until he has divided it. If a child starve in an Indian camp, one may be certain that want reigns in every lodge and hunger dwells in every stomach. Why should he lay up a store of robes and provision for others to consume? His is a gregarious and communistic state, merging his individuality into that of his tribe. Suppose, however, that the red man advances somewhat into civilization, thus weakening the communistic bonds of his tribe, and supplanting them by a disposition to assume a certain degree of individuality, and a desire to accumulate property and found a home for himself. And just here I beg leave to quote a pertinent illustration from an article upon a kindred subject in a contemporaneous review. The Indian has seen the comforts of civilized life and earnestly desires them. By years of toil and self-denial he has built himself a comfortable cabin, and gathered into it a crop sufficient to feed himself and family until he could raise another. It is winter, and his neighbors, who, while he was working hard, were lounging about, abusing him for violating the religion and customs of his people, ridiculing him, and calling him a woman and a slave, now have nothing to eat. They come to him and ask him if he has. He answers in the affirmative, and they tell him they are hungry. If he feeds them, they will come again till he has nothing left. If he refuses, they say he is a bad man, and deserves to suffer for violating the customs of his people, and kill his team. If that does not bring him to his senses, so as to give them food, they destroy his home and its contents, or they say he is incorrigible, and kill him." Such is the result of the red man's attempt to accumulate property by continuous labor in his natural state, as brought to my own observation in a number of instances; although the victim was seldom suffered to attain so high a degree of prosperity before being despoiled as here described. When he is taken under the protection of the Government, the law refuses to recognize the robbery of one Indian by another as a crime within its jurisdiction, and so affords no security for the safety of his property or the inviolability of his life. And yet, with that dull brutality which denies its enemy the possession of one atom of generous sensibility, we stigmatize the Indian as a lazy vagabond because he will not sow that others may reap. We do this, too, recognizing the fact that a white man will not labor industriously, if at all, save when expecting a reward for his labor. Nevertheless, we insist upon the red man's doing so, and call him lazy and worthless when he does not. In effect, the possession of the same noble qualities of independence which we affect to reverence in other people, makes us kill the Indian. he But there is another obstacle to the performance. of agricultural and mechanical labor by the Indian, of a more serious nature. Not only does he know that he has no reward, and labors only for others. if he accumulates, and dares not at the risk not only of his standing in his tribe but of life itself, refuse a division of his property, but his conscience, his religion, forbids the forms of labor in which the white man engages. He sincerely regards it as wicked and dangerous. And this is fully attested by the fact that as soon as, through conviction, he forsakes his religion for that of the white man, is ready to take up the toil of the white man and adopt his habits. The red man believes that his only avocation is to hunt and to fight; and, while finding no fault with the white man for laboring as he does, yet for himself he considers such labor not only degrading but certain to be followed by punishment. He believes that, were he to do so, he would die at the hands of his incensed gods. This feeling is real, and any scheme for his civilization which ignores its existence will assuredly fail of success. The same man who will undergo all manner of hardship and toil in the chase, cannot be induced to perform any manual labor of a different and lighter character. To this, however, the writer before quoted recognizes some exceptions: "For though the red men are more generally religious than white men, there are infidels among them as among ourselves; and such might be hired to use a hoe, or an axe, when and where there was no probability of being seen by any of their own people. I will mention a single case in illustration. The late Major J. R. Brown, who, as United States Agent, first succeeded in inducing heathen Sioux men to engage in cultivating the soil, and began this by hiring White Dog, a wellknown brave, and brother-in-law to the celebrated chief Wabashaw, still living, to have his hair trimmed, and dress as a white man, himself acting as barber, and subsequently, as United States Marshal, adjusted the halter on his neck when White Dog was hung at Mankato, Minnesota, for partici pating in the massacres of 1862, often said that this Indian evinced far more terror when his hair was being cut than when the halter was being adjusted on his neck. I was present at the execution of him and the thirty-seven others executed at the same time, and conversed with him, after he knew that his last day had come and the time of his death was very near, and I never doubted the truth of Major Brown's report; and I think it was not doubted by any who were present at the time. White Dog constantly, and I, after considering all the evidence brought against him, suppose truly, affirmed his innocence of the crime with which he was charged, and feeling innocent, death was less terrible to him than had been the idea of offending his gods by becoming an agriculturalist." But in order to fully understand the circumscribed light by which we measure the virtues of of the red man, perhaps, after all, the best possible illustration is the reverse of the picture-the light by which the red man measures us. He has his cwn standard by which he determines truth and falsehood, misery and happiness, and all the accompaniments of life, and it is difficult to make him look at the white man from any other point of view but his own. From this standpoint everything is Indian. The different peoples of the earth are so many tribes inhabiting various parts of the world, whose land is bad, and who are not pos sessed of buffalo and beaver. For these last articles (provisions and furs) the whites send merchandise, missions, etc., to the red man. "Ah," they say, "if it were not for our buffalo, where would you be? You would starve, your bones would whiten the prairies." With the Indian seeing is believing, and his world is the visible one in which his wild life is cast. To the white man, the Indian has no dislike; on the contrary, he is pretty certain to receive him with kindness and friendship, provided always that the newcomer will adopt the native system, join the hunting camp, and live on the plains. This is the Indian's view of the white man; is the white man's view of the Indian one whit more generous or liberal? Do we acknow ledge that he is a man, and allow him all those rights which at the origin of our nation we declared belong to all men, and make him, before the laws, equal to an immigrant from Asia, Africa, or Europe? If we do, why is it that in so many of our laws for the security of person and property occur the words, "except Indians not taxed?” JOHN ROSE.' BY WILLIAM L. STONE. It was during that gloomy winter at Valley Forge that a Russian gentleman of prepossessing appearance, pleasing in manners, and apparently highly gifted, appeared in the cantonments of the American army, vainly soliciting a Continental commission. The general opinion was that he 1 Garden, in his “Anecdotes of the American Revolution," alludes briefly to a Russian by the name of John Rose who served on the side of the Colonies in their struggle for inde pendence. The fact, however, that this person was the only Russian, as far as is known, who was in our "Seven Years' War," seems to justify a more extended notice of him. Learning that there were manuscripts still in existence relating to his career in America, I wrote to Dr. William A. Irvine, of Irvine, Pennsylvania, who, with great kindness, at once placed at my disposal such family papers as related to the subject, including also the entire manuscript correspondence of his grandfather, General Irvine, with Washington and Rose. It is from these original and authentic sources that the following narrative is derived. was as certainly a man of rank as he was acknowledged to be of high attainments and finished edu cation, but on this point he always maintained the most profound silence. His exemplary conduct and pleasing carriage, however, soon won the general esteem of the army, and obtained for him the position of surgeon's mate in the hospital at Yellow Springs. It was at this period that General William Irvine, who had been recently exchanged, having been taken prisoner in Arnold's expe dition to Quebec, rejoined the Pennsylvania line in camp. The many noble personal qualities of Rose immediately attracted his attention, though, having himself served in the British navy as surthe young Russian possessed but a very limited geon before the war, he very soon discovered that knowledge of the medical art. Believing, therefore, that his bravery and intelligence could be made more available to the Colonies in another |