Hive followed his master, having come out of the
combat but little injured. As they got to a point where a last look
could be had of the bottom-land of the council, each turned to see
what was now in the course of proceeding. The fire glimmered just
enough to show the circlet of dark faces, but not an Indian spoke or
moved. There they all sat, patiently waiting for the moment when the
"strangers" might "withdraw" to a sufficient distance, to permit
them to proceed with their own private affairs without fear of
interruption.
"This has been to me a most trying scene," observed the missionary,
as the three pursued their way toward the garrison. "How hard it is
to convince men against their wishes. Now, I am as certain as a man
can be, that every one of these Injins is in fact a Jew; and yet,
you have seen how small has been my success in persuading them to be
of the right way of thinking, on this subject."
"I have always noticed that men stick even to their defects, when
they're nat'ral," returned the bee-hunter. "Even a nigger will stand
up for his color, and why shouldn't an Injin? You began wrong,
parson. Had you just told these chiefs that they were Jews, they
might have stood THAT, poor creatures, for they hardly know how
mankind looks upon a Jew; but you went to work to skin them, in a
lump, making so many poor, wishy-washy pale-faces of all the red-
skins, in a body.
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