“Why should it be thought doubtful?” said he. “Are we not all descended from the same parents—all partakers of the same fallen nature—all hastening to the same bourne? But you would scarcely recognize the gnarled and stunted oak, springing from the scanty earth afforded by a crevice in the rock, as belonging to the same species with the monarch of the forest, striking his roots deep in a generous soil, and spreading his branches proudly toward heaven. Pour into the minds of these poor heathen savages the light of civilization and Christianity, and in a few generations they will have become the noblest race of men in the world.” “It is a very common belief, however,” said I, “that they are incapable of civilization; and does not experience seem to justify this opinion?” “_My_ experience proves the contrary,” said he, with emphasis. “The people now in this encampment were lately fierce and blood-thirsty warriors; I wish the docility and meekness they now exhibit were more common among white men.” “But has there been time,” I asked, “to warrant the conclusion that the change will be permanent?” “I have no fear as to that,” he said; “the change is radical—the savage nature is extinct in them; and, like children, their plastic minds can now be moulded into any form by education.” “I hope it will prove so,” said I; “but do their chiefs go with them?” “Their favorite young chief, Tamaque, now leads them as zealously in the path of peace, as he formerly did in the war-path,” he replied. “A noble young fellow he is, too.” “Indeed he is,” said Mary, who had hitherto been listening to our conversation in silence; “he is always so kind and gentle. I love him as my own brother.” The very bluntness of her words might have satisfied me that she meant _only_ what she said; but somehow or other I did not like her form of expression, and I began to feel anything but partial toward the person they referred to. “Pray what does he look like?” I inquired. “Oh, he is very handsome,” said she, with the same provoking simplicity. “And no doubt very accomplished,” said I, drily. “Why, yes,” she replied, “he is by no means wanting in accomplishments. He was educated at one of our own schools, and, it is said, proved a very apt scholar. Indeed, his civilized accomplishments are very respectable; and as to his savage ones,” she added, laughing, “he is foremost in all the exercises of his tribe.” I joined in the laugh, rather faintly, and then added, maliciously: “No doubt even his copper color is unusually bright.” “By no means,” she replied; “his color is that of a white man a little tanned by exposure to the sun.” “The truth is,” said Luten, “he is only half Indian, and he seems to be endowed with most of the virtues of both the white and red man, without the vices of either.” The affair had now become serious, and I could no longer help regarding this accomplished half-breed chief as a formidable rival.