Around each isolated tribe lay
an unbroken wilderness extending for miles on every side, where the
braves roamed, hunters alike of beasts and men. So little intercourse or
knowledge of each other existed, so desolate was the wilderness that
a vagabond tribe might wander from one extreme of the continent to
another, and language alone could tell the nation to which they
belonged.
The whole country was thus occupied by comparatively small, but hostile
tribes, so numerous, that almost every river and every lake has handed
down the name of a distinct nation. In form, in manners, and in habits,
these tribes presented an almost uniform appearance: language formed the
great distinctive mark to the European, though the absence of a feather
or a line of paint disclosed to the native the tribe of the wanderer
whom he met.
The country itself presented a thousand obstacles: there was danger from
flood, danger from wild beasts, danger from the roving savage, danger
from false friends, danger from the furious rapids on rivers, danger of
loss of sight, of health, of use of motion and of limbs, in the new,
strange life of an Indian wigwam....
Once established in a tribe, the difficulties were increased. After
months, nay, years, of teaching, the missionaries found that the fickle
savage was easily led astray; never could they form pupils to our life
and manners.
Pages:
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309