When they first saw him coming with his crowd of followers, they naturally expected only a renewal of the ill-treatment and oppressions which they had already suffered from his countrymen. But when they heard his mild and friendly words, and understood his kind offers of peace and brotherly alliance, their delight at this unexpected and happy fortune was unspeakable. It was under the wide-spreading branches of a lofty elm, near the place where now rises the great city of Philadelphia, that the good and the joyful Delawares made their famous treaty of peace and friendship, which was to last as long as the sun and moon should endure. On the part of the Indians, at least, it has never been broken; and to this day, when they see the broad-brimmed hat, and square coat of a Quaker, they say, with a mournful pleasure, “He is a son of our good father Miquon,[11] the friend of the Indians.” But the friendship of their father Miquon, could not save them from the fate which sooner or later overwhelms the native tribes of this country. The power of their enemies finally prevailed; their lands were seized, their council-fire extinguished, and they, themselves, were driven to seek a refuge in the cold climes of Canada, or in the regions beyond the Mississippi. A like fate soon overtook their chief enemies, the Six Nations. During the revolutionary war, this people remained always faithful to the English cause, and suffered severely from the arms of the Americans. Since that time, they have rapidly declined, both in numbers and power; some have emigrated to Canada,--but the greater part of the remnant of this warlike nation still remains, sunk in crime and wretchedness, on a few tracts of land which have been reserved for them in the State of New York. [9] The fear created by the Mingoes, of which the Mohawks were a part, appears to have continued to a late date. Colden, in his “History of the Five Nations,” says, “I have been told by old men in New England, who remembered the time when the Mohawks made war on their Indians, that as soon as a single Mohawk was discovered in the country, their Indians raised a cry, from hill to hill--a Mohawk! a Mohawk!--upon which, they all fled like sheep before wolves, without attempting the least resistance. “The poor New England Indians immediately fled to the Christian houses, and the Mohawks often pursued them so closely, that they entered along with them, and knocked their brains out in the presence of the people of the house. But if the family had time to shut the door, they never attempted to force it, and on no occasion did any injury to the Christians.”