THE vacation season was spent necessarily with as little exertion and exposure to the sun as possible. Not only were our pupils dismissed to their homes, but all the employés of the establishment were discharged, except one colored family, and a single man to look after the teams. All active employment was suspended, and much of the traveling done at unusual hours. Brother Benson and myself availed ourselves of the leisure to make occasional trips, alternately, to various points in the State, and in the interior of the Indian country.

      We traveled much alone, and always unarmed, though the custom of the country was to the contrary. The frontier was infested with robbers and cut-throats. Major A. once said to me, "I not only go armed, but I never suffer any man to pass me on my left side." Robberies and murders were frequent. My business necessarily required me to carry considerable sums of money, yet I never failed to travel when and where duty or inclination led me. In a single case only, at the suggestion of brother B., stated trips on certain days of the week, over a particular road, were discontinued, from the supposition that our regularity, and a knowledge of the fact of our carrying funds, might render us rather a tempting mark. At our home we kept arms.

      During the vacation we were left comparatively unprotected. The smallness of our number; our contiguity to the Cherokees, among whom were many scenes of violence; the suspicious white men prowling around; all conspired to place us on our guard. Once we had reason to believe that an actual attempt had been made. For a length of

time I slept with arms at my head; and additional means of defense were placed in other hands, with cautions not to use them except in case of actual necessity. One incident I shall never forget, from its pleasant termination. Seated with Mrs. G., upon a Summer evening, on a porch in the rear of our dwelling, we saw a canoe loaded with Indians gliding down the current of the Arkansas, and approaching our place in a suspicious manner, as we thought, till the bluff concealed them from our view. The rifle was taken down, fired, reloaded, and placed conveniently for quick action. Some time was spent in waiting and listening. At length we heard on the opposite shore a voice, as of one giving out the lines of a hymn, followed by united voices in singing, and the same process repeated as through the verses of the hymn, after the manner of our own Church; then followed the voice of one apparently leading in earnest prayer. I said to my wife, "We have nothing to fear, they are converted Indians." They had encamped for the night, and were holding their devotions. We laid us down and slept without apprehension.

     Early in September of this year, it was my privilege to attend a camp meeting upon Shoal Creek, in the interior of the State of Arkansas, within the bounds of Dardanelle circuit. It was held under the superintendence of Rev. J. C. Parker, presiding elder of the district, an esteemed friend, of whom I have several times had occasion to speak. Though comparatively young, he had attained an enviable position in his Conference, being recognized as their leading member; had served in the General Conference of 1844; co-operated with the South through the preliminaries of separation, and immediately after located, in the prime of life, popularity, and usefulness. His reasons I never learned, and his subsequent history is unknown to me. His intercourse with me was that of a brother beloved, free and confidential, except upon the subject of Church division, in which he kept his own counsels. At this camp meeting he was especially attentive and affectionate, saying that he wished to "honor me all he

could," as he "might never have the opportunity again." Whether this referred to his own intended movements, or was spoken in anticipation of mine, I have never known.

     I was accompanied on this trip by my excellent young Indian colleague, Rev. J. Page; a fine traveling companion, modest and pious, but full of innocent glee. The days of horseback traveling passed pleasantly. The afternoon of the first day I preached on Vache Gras, and in the evening Page preached at our lodgings. The second day took us to Cane Creek, and the morning of the third brought us to the encampment. It was in the county of "Yell," named for their chivalrous but subsequently ill-fated Governor. Not remote were the Dardanelle Mountains, a branch of the Ozarks. The scenery was fine, the season pleasant, congregations large, and order good. The presence and labors of an Indian preacher tended not a little to increase the interest. The people were kind, simple-hearted, and apparently much engaged in religion. The Divine presence and power were manifested in no small degree.

     During much of the time the quarterly conference was employed in adjusting the preliminaries of Church division. To none of these scenes, there or elsewhere, was I ever invited. As a result, a larger share of pulpit labor devolved on me, and I had full leisure to enjoy the religious exercises. Some incidents of interest occurred, one of which, deeply affecting in itself, proved tragical in its end.

     At an early stage of the meeting, while in the pulpit, my attention was arrested by the appearance of one whose entire contour and bearing marked him as superior to the masses around him. Large, portly, and commanding in person; an unassuming and seemingly devout worshiper; in him was seen the true dignity of the Southern gentleman, without the affected hauteur so often put on. At the close of service he approached the stand, and I was introduced to Judge C., of a Virginia family of that name, part of whom are early and prominent residents of the State of Indiana. I found him to he what his appearance indicated,

with social qualities that adorned the whole character. Days passed; the people prayed; the Word had effect, and the interest deepened and widened. Many were under powerful awakenings, and it was the practice of the praying brethren, at the approach of the hour of evening service, to retire to the grove, taking with them such as were known to be seekers of religion, and spend a solemn hour wrestling with God in their behalf previous to the signal for evening worship. Among them, as they retired, was always seen the Judge with his own brother after the flesh, a man of mature years, but unconverted and hitherto impenitent. Deeply concerned for his spiritual welfare, the Judge had prevailed on him to accompany them to these scenes of prayer, and there he wrestled with him and with God for him, with an intensity amounting to agony. So it passed till my departure, the meeting being left still in progress. Days, perhaps weeks, elapsed after my return. One day I met, in traveling, one who asked me, "Have you heard of the death of Judge C.?" The question fell upon my ears with piercing sadness. In one of these seasons of prayer with that loved brother, his earnestness rose so high that, in the agony of exertion, a blood-vessel was ruptured, and death ensued. His happy spirit passed away from among the shouts of the redeemed below, to a mansion in the heavenly home. Never can I forget the scenes of Dardanelle camp meeting. Not long after I attended an Indian camp meeting on James's Fork, among the Choctaws. It requires but little effort for Indians to prepare for a camp meeting, so little deviation being required from their ordinary mode of life. All that is needed is to pack the ponies with blankets and a little simple food, such as they usually carry in traveling, mount and make their way to the appointed spot, unload under the shade of a tree of their own selection, hopple the ponies and turn them loose, strike a camp-fire and make themselves at home. And so accustomed were we to habits almost similar that we easily adapted ourselves to circumstances. While our good brethren and sisters in the States

have such terrible apprehensions of the effects of exposure to the "night air," and seem to think that a great feat has been performed by spending a week "in the woods," though in close tents with stoves, beds, curtains, carpets, and all the surroundings of home comfort, we have learned to enjoy the refreshing coolness of the night, whether in the employment of public worship, or sleeping securely in the open air with the canopy of heaven for our covering, and in no one instance have I known health to suffer as a result. This camp meeting, however, was thinly attended, and no very marked results followed, our working force on the north side of the Nation being too small for a successful meeting of the kind.

     In one of my frequent excursions down into the State, I met with an incident strikingly illustrative of the great folly of deferring a preparation for death, temporally or spiritually, to the last hour. On my way to the town of ----, where I was to spend a Sabbath, I called at the house of Colonel ----, an acquaintance, a man of standing and influence, but with no pretensions to religion. I found him suddenly indisposed, resting on a pallet on the floor, but without any alarming symptoms. I passed on. The next day was the Sabbath; the public services of the sanctuary were almost gone through; the closing prayer was being made; we were upon our knees in the pulpit, when a messenger entered in haste, walked down the aisle, and, without waiting for the close of the prayer, approached me saying, "Colonel ---- is dying; they want you to come and see him." Promptly obeying the summons, I hastened to the bank of the river, where a boat was in waiting to take me over to his residence. Here I found my friend, Judge ---, an attorney of the place, who had been sent for to write his will. Here we were, both in the same boat; the lawyer going to wind up the temporal concerns of the dying man, and the minister to pray with him and point his dying eye to Christ; all the interests of time and eternity crowded into a brief space, and that an hour of

pain, debility, and trembling agitation. O, what a scene! Arrived at the place, the "tender mercies "of the physician turned us both out of doors. "Do n't excite him; let him alone; he will get well," were the words that prevailed. We returned. I recrossed the river, musing upon the lesson. Tile Sabbath closed. Morning came. I again passed and found a mournful group preparing for the obsequies. The spirit had fled.

     An incident occurring near to us may serve to illustrate the rude contacts of frontier life. I have before had occasion to mention an extensive trading-house, kept within a few miles of our station by an Eastern gentleman, to whose amiable and excellent character I have already paid a tribute, but who, in this connection, shall be nameless. He was a man rather under the medium size, but of extraordinary muscular power and activity, with all the personal courage requisite for frontier life, but, at the same time, of soft, gentle, sensitive mold; altogether of too fine a texture for the rough scenes to which his position exposed him. On the road, between our place and the trading-house, lived a large, rugged, athletic fellow, with just Indian blood enough to claim Indian privileges and exemption from punishment for his rude and insolent conduct; generally a far worse class than the real Indians. He had threatened trouble to us; and the authorities of the Nation had proposed to interfere in our protection; but supposing that I could manage him myself, I desired them to let him alone, which they accordingly did. On one occasion, going to the trading-house, I found my friend, the proprietor, in deep mental affliction. He had killed ----. The man in a rage, perhaps partially drunk, had called in the store for a butcher-knife to use in a fight with some ether Indians near. It was, of course, refused. Enraged at the refusal he leaped the counter, and was about to take a knife by force. The merchant, though greatly his inferior in size, seized him, drew him ever the counter, and thrust him out of doors, striking him in the struggle several times with his

fist. The man went home, took his bed, and died in twenty-four hours. His powerful arm, under the influence of excitement, had dealt blows of the force of which he was unconscious; and which, upon a system already poisoned by liquor, proved fatal. The circumstances precluded all censure. Still the thought that his hand had slain a fellow-being preyed fearfully upon his kind and sensitive nature. At his desire I went to the cabin of the family, where the corpse was still lying, and conversed with the wife of the dead man, she being a white woman. She complained bitterly of the alleged murder of her husband. I advised her, knowing that she would gain little sympathy from others, to keep quiet and let Mr. ---- alone; intimating to her that, from his present feeling and his well-known generosity, she would gain by such a course, while by a different one she would repel him, and deprive herself of his needed aid. I returned. Mr. ---made all arrangements for the burial at his own expense, and the wornan, profiting by my hint, played a bold game upon the tender feelings of my friend, making the occurrence a source of revenue as long as she had access to him.

     SOME further particulars respecting Indian character and habits may find a place here. And it will be borne in mind that our observations are still mainly confined to southern Indians. The more northern tribes will have a notice in a subsequent part of our volume.

     One leading sentiment I will not omit--the connection always kept up in their minds between intellectual and moral improvement. Education with them is invariably regarded as leading to civilization, morals, and Christianity. Hence they are received or rejected together. They have not learned the infidel notion of the opposition of the one to the other, or even of the existence of the one separate from the other. What God has "joined together" they do not seek to "put asunder." And all these they expect to receive through the efforts of Christian missionaries. By no other hand has the tender of educational aid been made to them. A single instance, perhaps, only can be found upon the continent of an Indian school not under religious control and management, and that soon died away; an experiment of the United States Government, which they have not seen fit to repeat.

     I have several times referred to the existence of slavery among the southern Indians. Living within the bounds of slave States previous to their removal west, some of them were already the owners of slaves; and some of the tribes, especially the Chickasaws, made large investments in slave property out of the funds paid them by the Government at the time of their emigration. The Choctaws and Cherokees
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had a considerable number of slaves, and a few were held by the Creeks.

     The most extensive slave-owners were found among the "half-breeds "--a general term for mixed bloods in all proportions--some of whom were wealthy. These were not unfrequently hard masters, exacting labor with rigor and punishing with severity. With this exception, Indians are generally indulgent masters. Having no systematic labors themselves, they exact none from their slaves. When the owners are straitened for provision, they suffer with them, and when there is plenty they enjoy their full share. Sometimes, in a fit of rage or a drunken frolic, an Indian may wound or even kill his slave; but I have never heard of a case of cool, deliberate punishment of a slave by a full-blood Indian.

     The superior intelligence and information of the slave over his Indian master and family often gives him quite a prominence. He only speaks English. He is the interpreter, manages the trading, entertains the white guests, does the honors of the house, and, in short, is the factotum of the establishment. I knew a family of slaves that actually took care of their owners, a set of minor orphan children, cultivated the farm, reared the family, and provided for their wants with all apparent kindness. One might have thought that the case was reversed, and that the Indians were owned by the negroes. Many of the slave women were excellent cooks, and contributed greatly to the comfort of the family and of guests by their preparation of food.

     Indian masters are quite as jealous of their "rights" and quite as sensitive to the reproach of "abolitionism" as their civilized neighbors. Like them, too, they have laws against the instruction of slaves. I once myself, unwittingly, incurred the penalty. At the close of a sermon to a mixed audience of whites, blacks, Indians, and quadroons, at a certain place, I distributed tracts. Some fell into the hands of slaves. In due time I was waited upon

by a functionary of their Government, who gravely informed me that I had violated the laws of the Nation. In compassion, however, as I suppose, to my "ignorentia leqis," they doffed the "neminem excusat," and let me pass--a stretch of mercy that might not now be exercised, with the examples of "civilized life" before them.

     I have spoken of their food as being derived mainly from the flesh of cattle, owned by them in large numbers. When they can, they purchase flour, coffee, sugar, etc. There is one prevailing article of diet found among all the tribes of southern Indians, and highly relished by them. The Choctaws call it "tah-ful-lah," the Cherokees "con-e-ha-na," and the Creeks "saf-ka." It is the Indian corn, pounded in a mortar by the women, after the manner of our hominy, and boiled, leaving a large quantity of the liquid with it. To this is added a small portion of lye, and it is set away in a vessel till it undergoes a fermentation, after which it is ready for use. With the Choctaws it may be called a "national dish." The most approved style of eating it is from a large, common bowl, with a buffalo-horn spoon, which is passed from hand to hand in a social manner. No white man is considered as having graduated to Choctaw honors and immunities till he has learned to eat tah-ful-lah. I was a slow learner in this department.

     All Indian tribes are greatly addicted to sports and games. I can not furnish a better view of these than by extracting from a letter of my own, dated July 18, 1844, being one of a series published in a weekly journal in one of the States

     "After all the advancement made by the principal tribes of southern Indians, there are still some of their rude and barbarous customs to which they adhere with great tenacity, especially their ancient sports, to which the more unenlightened, comprising the mass of the population, are ardently attached. Formerly these sports were mere athletic exercises. The contest was for victory only, and with this the successful party was content. They were then compar-

atively harmless. But intercourse with the whites has contaminated them in this, as in most other respects. Their presence and the interest taken by them excite the Indians, and urge them on to new forms of vice. Betting is extensively practiced. Cattle, ponies, or any thing else which they possess, are staked upon the issue. Drinking and other attendant vices prevail, and the whole scene is made to resemble the race-course as patronized by their 'enlightened' white neighbors.

     "The leading and favorite sport of the Choctaws is the ball-play. Having never witnessed one, I extract the following from a description given by the late commandant of the United States forces at this place. He says: 'It is rough and wild. The combatants engage in the contest entirely naked, except the flap. The interest and zeal which the natives of the forest take in the play frequently attract ladies as spectators; sometimes, however, those of extreme delicacy may have occasion to blush. It is considered something of a national feast, and is often conducted by some of the leading captains with great regularity and, order. Preparatory to commencing operations an extensive plain is selected, on one side of which two poles are erected about twenty feet high and placed about six inches apart at the ground, diverging in such manner as to be about two feet apart at the top. On the opposite side of the plain, or about two hundred yards distant, two other poles are placed in the same manner. The parties to the contest varying in number as may be agreed upon, meet in the center, where a ball is thrown up from two sticks about two feet long, with a small netting or basket-work at the end, and the strife commences. This consists in each party keeping the ball on their own side of the center, and passing it the greatest number of times between the poles of the side to which they belong. The excitement and strife become very great. Men are often hurt and sometimes killed. It sometimes requires more than a day to determine the contest. Bets usually run very high!'

     "This game seems not unknown to the surrounding Nations. The same writer says: 'It was formerly resorted to to settle contested points of difference. A very serious difficulty which arose between the Cherokees and Creeks, about thirty years ago, was settled in that manner, and the horrors of war prevented!'

     "This is the season of the year for these sports. They frequently interfere with and sometimes entirely break up our preaching appointments in this part of the Nation. It is in vain to attempt to draw attention to any thing else at or about the time. Last year a camp meeting upon this mission was prevented entirely in this manner. There has recently been a great contest of this kind in the south of the Nation between the Puch-she-nub-bee and Puch-ma-ta-ha districts. One man was shot and several stabbed, though, I believe, not mortally. Several games have come off in this (Me-shu-la-tub-bee) district, and others are yet pending.

     "An Indian, one of our nearest neighbors, returning from a play recently held near the Council-House at Yak-ni-a-chuk-ma, was murdered by his own family. His son has been tried and convicted, but has obtained a new hearing; meanwhile he is left at perfect liberty. A full-blood Choctaw, it is said, never flees to evade a trial or punishment, but will at the day appointed punctually attend his trial; or if already convicted and sentenced, the place of execution; unless, as is frequently the case, he, in the mean time, becomes his own executioner. The half-breeds, or those who have some 'white man's blood,' are more likely to flee from justice."

     The ball-play was sometimes resorted to in the rude district in which we lived to secure an attendance at courts and other places of necessary public business. So little interest was felt by the natives and even by the officials of our section in the administration of public affairs, that a call to duties of that character was very little regarded. But the summons to a ball-play called out the posse comitatus; and, while there, the opportunity was incidentally

afforded for holding of courts, trying criminals, and other public business.

     A barbarous scene occurred the same season, on one of these occasions, at the Council-Ground of our district, growing out of the parricide already referred to. A large, athletic, and rather desperate Indian, whose name I have forgotten, had, it was said, interfered in behalf of his relative, the murderer of his own father. Folsom, then the District Chief, a rude, uncultivated Indian, had, without authority, given directions to Captain William Riddle, the United States interpreter, to kill this fellow should he interfere at the approaching trial. Riddle and this man had a personal grudge against each other, and Riddle, though a brave man, feared that he should be privately assassinated. Accordingly he sought an occasion, got the other excited, and under color of the order of the Chief shot him. The other fell, but, rising to a sitting posture, called for his gun

     Several other balls were fired through him by Riddle's friends, and, to end the matter, even after he was lying prostrate, the Judge of their court discharged a ball through his head. Such is savage life, even with forms of law and some approach to civilization. A shock was produced by our contiguity to such scenes. Little did we then dream that, within a score of years to come, scenes not less horrid would be enacted by the hands of white men all over our land, and pass with impunity, if not the implied sanction of public sentiment. Yet such is the case. As an American citizen I blush to acknowledge it.

      Riddle was, in the main, a good, reliable Indian, quiet and inoffensive in his character; but he was in fear. The Indians have no jails, no recognizance to keep the peace, and the only safety is to get the start by killing the adversary first. Subsequently, as will be seen, when Riddle died, under singular circumstances, the Indians regarded it as a retributive providence.

     In another letter of the same series, dated September 26th, I wrote as follows: "We have had an unusual number of

violent deaths in this part of the Nation. Three successive ball-plays at one place have ended each with the death of a man. A youth, resident in a family near us, a few days since, upon some slight affront deliberately shot himself. Life is but little valued by an Indian, in himself or in another. Two white men also have recently been murdered and robbed at different times and places, while passing through the Nation; in both cases, it is supposed, by whites or negroes. Instances rarely, if ever, occur of murder and robbery by a Choctaw."

     The Choctaws have no laws for the collection of debts. Even the whites resident in these territories have no process for collecting debts one of another. All is done upon honor. And no where have I seen personal honor more sacredly regarded in business transactions than here. I can not gravely advocate, as some have done, the repeal of all laws for enforcing the payment of debts; but certainly it would be better, morally and financially, than the system of fraudulent conveyancing, dishonest bankruptcy, and villainy in various forms, so effectually provided for and sheltered by the laws of some of the States.

     The destructive effect of ardent spirits meets the eye every-where. This will be the case so long as the laws of contiguous States permit or sanction the border traffic. Monsters in human shape are found perched all along the line. Desire of gain is the motive generally attributed, but an unrestrained indulgence of libertinism is probably even more operative. Scenes of bloodshed and of the deepest moral degradation are the result. Not unfrequently those that escape with life are left with lasting memorials of their drunken carousals, in the form of maimed limbs, lost eyes, and disfigured persons. An instance I remember. Traveling once in the interior of the country, I had occasion to call at an Indian cabin by the way-side. The occupant limped to the door in quite a crippled condition, saying in broken English: "Fort Smith--whisky--too much--burn it." All was explained. He had been to Fort Smith,

where he had obtained liquor, got drunk, fallen into the fire and been badly burned.

     A "speck of war" appeared upon our borders about this time, as will be seen by another extract from the letter referred to. Speaking of the Cherokees, it says "Their matters, ten days since, seemed to have arrived at a crisis. Their warriors on both sides were assembled and under arms, and the women and children were beginning to flee. Some Cherokee families crossed the river and encamped near us, seeking a refuge from the expected storm. All, however, has passed, for the present, without bloodshed.

     "Both parties have had their delegations at Washington during the past Winter, headed by their respective Chiefs and sustained by able counsel. The result is the appointment of an able board of commissioners to visit the country with full powers to make a final adjustment of all matters in dispute. It is said that the commission looks to a division of the country between the parties if found necessary; a measure that would be highly acceptable to the minority, but violently resisted by Ross and his adherents.

     "The late warlike demonstrations grew out of an attempt by Rogers, the minority Chief, to hold a council with his party at the old Council-Ground, about forty miles above this place. This privilege was granted them by the late orders of the Department, and the opposite party were enjoined not to molest them. Ross is absent from the country, but Lowrey, the second Chief, in a letter to Major Armstrong, as Superintendent of Indian Affairs, declared his intention forcibly to prevent the holding of the Council, and actually assembled his men for that purpose. Rogers applied for a United States force to protect him and his adherents. Through the intervention, however, of Major Armstrong, Rogers was induced, though very reluctantly, to postpone the assembling of his Council till the arrival of the commissioners, who are expected in October. Both parties are highly exasperated, and should a drop of blood be spilled, it is difficult to predict the end

     In the midst of the excitement we were amused by the appearance at our place of a little negro girl from one of the fugitive families. She seemed quite alarmed, and all the account she could give of the matter was, "they've spiled the Council." But these scenes are now buried with the past, and the Cherokee people are living together in peace.

     The letter continues "The Summer has been exceedingly hot; thermometer from 100^o to 103^o in the shade. Sickness prevails through the country. Many of the citizens of the State, below us, have left their residences, and are encamped at the mineral springs which abound in Western Arkansas; quite a common method of visiting watering-places in this region," and perhaps more rational and healthful than that prevailing among the fashionables of the States toward sunrise.

     An incident illustrative of Indian patience and sense of Christian propriety I will not omit. A certain missionary, as the statement has it, became provoked with a good Christian Indian for some trivial trespass, perhaps unintentional. In the excitement of the moment he scolded the Indian severely, and used some harsh epithets. The Indian patiently heard him through, and mildly looking him in the face, replied "My brother, what make you swear so?" How often is so near an approach made to profanity in the language of professed Christians, not to say ministers, that it requires a scholar to make the distinction!
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     AT the appointed time in the Fall our pupils returned in good health and spirits; were re-clad in a 'Winter wardrobe; the school was reopened, and the Winter term commenced under pleasant and promising auspices. The health of our household had suffered somewhat, but as frosts appeared disease, in the main, left us. Several cases of intermittent disease in my own immediate family proved obstinate, and never were fully removed till we had a change of climate. The appropriate business of the season was resumed in the several departments and the wheels of our machinery began to roll on again. At the commencement of this term, the labors of brother Benson were lightened by the employment of Mr. Brigham, already mentioned, as assistant teacher.

     The time rolled on at which our new mission Conference was to assemble. Mr. Brigham was placed in charge pro tem., and arrangements were made for our departure. A few days previous to our starting we were visited by Rev. J. M. Steele, then in charge of a mission on Red River, accompanied by two native preachers, William Ok-chi-ah and Isaac Chuk-ma-bee, all on their way to Conference, who spent a Sabbath with us. Chuck-ma-bee was a plain, pious, ordinary, full-blood Choctaw, with nothing remarkable in his character. Ok-chi-ah had traits that printed themselves on the memory and on the heart; a dear man of God, never to be forgotten. He was a half-breed; but the Indian predominated in his character, and he never learned to speak English. He was apparently of middle years, of slender constitution, pale and feeble in appearance; soft, gentle, and bland in his manners; warm and ardent in his

piety; with gushing sympathies that flowed out in copious tears when stirred by pious or generous emotion. He had, for years, been engaged in preaching the Gospel to his tribe. Never shall I forget the closing scene of our Sabbath evening service, when, after having in his own language preached in a must feeling and pathetic manner, he left the stand, and with eyes overflowed with tears, passed around, taking his congregation individually by the hand. Rarely have I seen in any human countenance so much of heaven, it seemed as if he had a presentiment of his really near approach to the heavenly home, and regarded this, as it proved to be, a final parting. he was thinly clad and ill-prepared for the journey. From our missionary-donation stores we fitted him out with comfortable apparel and all things needed for the Conference trip.

     On the morning of Monday, October 21st, we were early off for Tah-le-quah, Cherokee Nation, the appointed seat of our Conference. For want of a ferry-boat at Fort Coffee, we were compelled to travel by the way of Fort Smith, and cross the Arkansas River there. Our company consisted of brother Steele, the two indian preachers, and myself, all on horseback, packed with provisions, blankets, etc. At Fort Smith we were joined by brother Benson, who had preceded us that far. Here, by the kindness of my friend Major Hunter of the army, I was furnished with a neat chart of our intended route, penciled for our use by his own, skillful hand. We crossed the river, entered the Cherokee country, and struck the trail marked out by our chart at a lively gait; for slow traveling is almost unknown on the frontiers and western plains. The day was not far spent when we found that our brother Ok-chi-ah was physically unable for the, journey. Weary and sick, he laid himself down by the roadside with all his characteristic calmness and resignation; and great doubts were entertained whether, he would be ale to reach the seat of the Conference at all or not. Our duties urged us on. We left him in charge of Chuk-ma-bee, divided our provisions with them, and traveled on.

     After a ride of some fifty miles we came up at a missionary station of the American Board, called Fairfield, under the care of Rev. Dr. Butler. It was a late hour. We were strangers, but we were missionaries. They arose from their beds and gave us that hearty welcome which a missionary knows how to give and how to appreciate; and the good cheer and Christian hospitality of the place were no small comfort to us after the fatigues of the day. Here we found a dense Indian population, a church and a flourishing school, with good mission buildings and other improvements.

     Another day's ride brought us to the Council-Ground at Tah-le-quah. On arriving we found that brother B. and myself had been assigned a home during the Conference with Rev. S. A. Worcester at Park Hill, a station of the American Board a few miles distant, visited by me more than a year before, and described in a previous chapter. Here again our kind host and his excellent Christian family. I have before spoken of Mr. W. as a pious and talented minister of the Presbyterian Church, the son of an aged and distinguished New England divine. Nearly or quite his whole ministerial life had been spent in labors among the Cherokees, first in their former Eastern home, and then following their fortunes to their new home in the West.

     But a new fact of interest soon developed itself in our temporary associations. I remembered the circumstance of the imprisonment of certain missionaries in Georgia many years previous, and in the course of conversation I accidentally referred to it, the names having been forgotten. What was our surprise to learn that our host, Rev. Mr. Worcester, was one of the imprisoned missionaries, and Rev. Dr. Butler, with whom we had passed the night previous, was the other. Before us were the men who had endured "bonds and imprisonment" for the Gospel. I felt honored with being their guest on mission ground. Of course we anticipated a rich enjoyment in our intercourse, and in this we were not disappointed.

     At the first opportunity we sought of our reverend host a detail of the circumstances attending the affair, which he gave in a modest and unostentatious manner. The Cherokees, like all other tribes, were fondly attached to their native homes and country and loth to leave them. Even after arrangements were made by the Government for their removal they still lingered, and with extreme difficulty were at last torn away.

     Eager, however, to possess their lands, the whites clamored for their removal. It was supposed that one strong bond of attachment was to the missionaries and their religious privileges. The missionaries were also charged with using their influence against the removal. A law was passed by the Legislature of Georgia about the year 1832 prohibiting all missionaries, under penalty of imprisonment, from laboring among the Cherokees, then living within the chartered limits of the State. The two missionaries named, with a third of whose name I am not now in possession, refused to take the prescribed oath or to give pledges of obedience to an act which they deemed unconstitutional and unrighteous, and continued their labors as before. They were arrested, convicted, and sentenced to the State penitentiary. The Supreme Court reversed the decision, but in defiance of this they were taken to the State Prison. At the door a pardon was offered on condition of a promise to comply with the law. One of the three--the meritedly-forgotten name--accepted the terms; the other two, Dr. B. and Mr. W., entered and endured an imprisonment of fifteen months. This was a hard trial of Christian fortitude to themselves and families, but it was triumphantly sustained, has won for them a high esteem in this world, and doubtless adds to the luster of the crown they now wear. Speaking of his arrest, I think a second time, having returned to his home in the limits to visit a dying child, torn away by the patrol while the child was in its last moments or actually a corpse unburied, "Then," said he, "for the first time my wife wept!'

     The desire to be useful in the prison led them to request

to be separated; foregoing the satisfaction of each other's society that they might labor for the spiritual good of their fellow-prisoners. They were accordingly placed in different apartments, each surrounded by a large number of fellow-convicts, there being no separate cells. Eternity will probably exhibit some of them as "stars "in their "crown of rejoicing." At first they were treated kindly; books and stationery, with many other privileges, were allowed them but, upon a false charge of conniving at an attempt of the convicts to escape, Mr. W. was deprived of these privileges and treated with rigor. This was probably the first act of public religious intolerance to excite a blush upon the cheek of patriotism in this boasted land of religious toleration. Would to God it had been the last I

     This was a lovely mission family. Deprived of society, they relied upon and developed other resources of entertainment. Music, vocal and instrumental, was cultivated. Devotions were lively and spiritual, and cheerful piety pervaded the entire household, constituting them a happy family. Mr. W., however, in the midst of his labors and domestic enjoyments, "remembered his bonds." A drawer in his private desk containing the documents relating to his trial and imprisonment was familiarly known as the "Penitentiary Drawer," keeping him and them in mind of his sufferings and his deliverance.

     While passing over the plains in the Summer of 1859, on my way to the mining regions of the Rocky Mountains, looking over the columns of a paper taken with me, my eye rested upon a notice of the death of Rev. S. A. Worcester, at the mission at Park Hill. When I saw him he was in the prime and vigor of manhood. Dr. Butler was then deeply afflicted with asthma, and apparently near his end. I have not heard of him since. He had probably long preceded his fellow-prisoner to a mansion in the heavenly home.

     Here fell Boudinot, a noble Indian, noticed in a previous chapter as having been assassinated simultaneously with

Ridge, the father and son. Aroused and decoyed from his dwelling under pretense of obtaining medicine for a sick person, he was treacherously murdered. The tree was pointed out to me at the foot of which he fell. He was a pious, talented Indian. His "works follow."

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© 2003 for the NEGenWeb Project by Pam Rietsch, Ted & Carole Miller.