Another anecdote of this chief will show, in more glaring colors, the real savage. A short time before the United States army crossed the Niagara, Farmer’s Brother chanced to observe an Indian, who had mingled with the Senecas, and whom he instantly recognised, as belonging to the Mohawks--a tribe living in Canada, and then employed in the enemy’s service. He went up to him, and addressed him in the Indian tongue:--“I know you well--you belong to the Mohawks--you are a spy--here is my rifle--my tomahawk--my scalping knife--I give you your choice, which of them shall I use?--but I am in haste!” The young warrior, finding resistance vain, chose to be despatched with the rifle. He was ordered to lie upon the grass; while, with the left foot upon the breast of his victim, the chief lodged the contents of the rifle into his head. With so much of the savage, Farmer’s Brother possessed some estimable traits of character. He was as firm a friend, where he promised fidelity, as a bitter enemy to those against whom he contended; and would rather lose the last drop of his blood, than betray the cause he had espoused. He was fond of recounting his exploits, and, savage-like, dwelt with much satisfaction upon the number of scalps he had taken in his skirmishes with the whites. In company with several other chiefs, he paid a visit to General Washington, who presented him with a silver medal. This he constantly wore, suspended from his neck; and, so precious was the gift in his eyes, that he often declared, he would lose it only with his life. Soon after the battles of Chippewa and Bridgewater, this veteran paid the debt of nature, at the Seneca village; and, out of respect to his bravery, he was interred with military honors from the fifth regiment of United States infantry. [Illustration: 0233] [Illustration: 0234] THE PROPHET OF THE ALLEGHANY. [Illustration: 9234] N the year of 1798, one of the missionaries to the Indians of the north-west was on his way from the Tuscarora settlement to the Senecas. Journeying in pious meditation through the forest, a majestic Indian darted from its recess, and arrested his progress. His hair was somewhat changed with age, and his face marked with the deep furrows of time; but his eye expressed all the fiery vivacity of youthful passion, and his step was that of a warrior in the vigor of manhood. “White man of the ocean, * whither wanderest thou?” said the Indian. * The Indians at first imagined that the white men originally sprang from the sea, and that they invaded their country because they had none of their own. They sometimes called them in their songs, “The froth, or white foam of the ocean and this name is often applied contemptuously by the savages of the north-west. “I am travelling,” replied the meek disciple of peace, “towards the dwellings of thy brethren, to teach them the knowledge of the only true God, and to lead them to peace and happiness.”