Thus, in the altitude and with the authority of an ancient patriarch, he continued to preside over his people, and promote their prosperity and improvement, without interruption or molestation, until the year 1822, when the authorities of Warren county, within the bounds of which he resided, attempted to levy taxes upon him and his clan. The old Chief had never before been called on for that purpose, and he objected to their payment. An armed sheriff's _posse_ was called out to enforce the payment, but arriving near CORNPLANTER'S town, it was deemed prudent to send forward a few of their number to confer with the Chief. When they came to his house, they noticed a considerable number of Indians lounging about, and some of them were partly concealed in the bushes near by. CORNPLANTER received the committee with great dignity. The interview took place near his house, and around the sides of it were arranged about one hundred rifles. When asked for the payment of the taxes, the old warrior sternly refused, and pointing to the guns, said, "an Indian for each rifle;" and in response to his call, his clansmen sprang forward to the house. Whereupon the sheriff and his men withdrew, without enforcing the claim. CORNPLANTER afterwards, for the sake of peace, went to Warren, and gave his note for the amount of the taxes. This note was never collected. The Legislature of Pennsylvania released the taxes, and exonerated him and his heirs forever, from the payment of taxes on the lands granted to him by the Commonwealth.[Y] The Governor sent commissioners to explain the transaction. CORNPLANTER met the commissioners at the court house in Warren, when he made a characteristic and appropriate address.[Z] [Y] Journal House of Representatives, 1822-3. [Z] This address is fully presented in DAY'S Historical Collections, p. 655. This tax collector's raid would afford a fine subject for a painter: the romantic scenery of the Allegheny river, the old warrior's wigwam, the rifles arranged around it, the Indians in the bush, the last war-whoop of the old Chief as he called his men to the rescue--worthy of perpetuation as the expiring flash of the warlike fire of the last War Chief of his tribe.