“If it can’t protect us, it doesn’t make any difference whether it takes us in or doesn’t. We can keep on shifting for ourselves as we’ve always done.”
“I sometimes think you misunderstand me and my motives,” Polcher regretted.
“Never!” emphatically assured Sevier with a broad smile.
“All I want to do is my duty by the settlers on this side of the mountains,” Polcher warmly declared.
“Our first duty is to see that the settlers in this valley and those on the Holston and French Broad are not wiped out by that red ax you said was coming.”
“I spoke foolishly,” sighed Polcher. “I only meant that the killing of this Indian would make trouble. You and I are one in wanting to save the settlements. Why not accept aid where we can find it?”
“From over the water? Already we’ve stood more from Spain than we ever endured from the mother country. If we didn’t want a separate existence, why did we go through a war that’s left us bankrupt?”
“We could accept help till we’re strong enough to strike out for ourselves,” insisted Polcher.
“The man who’d sell us to Spain would next be selling us to the devil,” Sevier sharply retorted. “As for strength, we’re strong enough now to send a red ax to every Indian nation in the South—and another to Charles III.”
Polcher knew this was said for rhetorical effect and did not represent Sevier’s true belief. But he took the words seriously and argued: