Oak Openings

by James Fenimore Cooper

“If the Manitou so well loves the Indians, why has he permitted the pale-faces to take away their hunting-grounds? Why has he made the red man poor, and the white man rich? Brother, I am afraid your tradition is a lying tradition, or these things would not be so.”

“It is not given to men to understand the wisdom that cometh from above. That which seemeth so strange to us may be right. The lost tribes had offended God; and their scattering, and captivity, and punishment, are but so many proofs of his displeasure. But, if lost, we have reason to believe that one day they will be found. Yes, my children, it will be the pleasure of the Great Spirit, one day, to restore you to the land of your fathers, and make you again, what you once were, a great and glorious people!”

As the well-meaning but enthusiastic missionary spoke with great fervor, the announcement of such an event, coming as it did from one whom they respected, even while they could not understand him, did not fail to produce a deep sensation. If their fortunes were really the care of the Great Spirit, and justice was to be done to them by his love and wisdom, then would the projects of Peter, and those who acted and felt with him, be unnecessary, and might lead to evil instead of to good. That sagacious savage did not fail to discover this truth; and he now believed it might be well for him to say a word, in order to lessen the influence Parson Amen might otherwise obtain among those whom it was his design to mould in a way entirely to meet his own wishes. So intense was the desire of this mysterious leader to execute vengeance on the pale-faces, that the redemption of the tribes from misery and poverty, unaccompanied by this part of his own project, would have given him pain in lieu of pleasure. His very soul had got to be absorbed in this one notion of retribution, and of annihilation for the oppressors of his race; and he regarded all things through a medium of revenge, thus created by his feelings, much as the missionary endeavored to bend every fact and circumstance, connected with the Indians, to the support of his theory touching their Jewish origin.

When Peter arose, therefore, fierce and malignant passions were at work in his bosom; such as a merciful and a benignant deity never wishes to see in the breast of man, whether civilized or savage. The self-command of the Tribeless, however, was great, and he so far succeeded in suppressing the volcano that was raging within, as to speak with his usual dignity and an entire calmness of exterior.

“My brothers have heard what the medicine-man had to say,” Peter commenced. “He has told them that which was new to them. He has told them an Indian is not an Indian. That a red man is a pale-face, and that we are not what we thought we were. It is good to learn. It makes the difference between the wise and the foolish. The palefaces learn more than the red-skins. That is the way they have learned how to get our hunting-grounds. That is the way they have learned to build their villages on the spots where our fathers killed the deer. That is the way they have learned how to come and tell us that we are not Indians, but Jews. I wish to learn. Though old, my mind craves to know more. That I may know more, I will ask this medicine-man questions, and my brothers can open their ears, and learn a little, too, by what he answers. Perhaps we shall believe that we are not red-skins, but pale-faces. Perhaps we shall believe that our true hunting-grounds are not near the great lakes of sweet water, but under the rising sun. Perhaps we shall wish to go home, and to leave these pleasant openings for the pale faces to put their cabins on them, as the small-pox that they have also given to us, puts its sores on our bodies. Brother—” turning toward the missionary—“listen. You say we are no longer Indians, but Jews: is this true of ALL red men, or only of the tribes whose chiefs are HERE?”

“Of ALL red men, as I most sincerely believe. You are now red, but once all of your people were fairer than the fairest of the pale-faces. It is climate, and hardships, and sufferings that have changed your color.”

“If suffering can do THAT,” returned Peter, with emphasis, “I wonder we are not BLACK. When ALL our hunting-grounds are covered with the farms of your people, I think we shall be BLACK.”

Signs of powerful disgust were now visible among the listeners, an Indian having much of the contempt that seems to weigh so heavily on that unfortunate class, for all of the color mentioned. At the south, as is known, the red man has already made a slave of the descendants of the children of Africa, but no man has ever yet made a slave of a son of the American forests! THAT is a result which no human power has yet been able to accomplish. Early in the settlement of the country, attempts were indeed MADE, by sending a few individuals to the islands; but so unsuccessful did the experiment turn out to be, that the design was soon abandoned. Whatever may be his degradation, and poverty, and ignorance, and savage ferocity, it would seem to be the settled purpose of the American Indians of our own territories—unlike the aborigines who are to be found farther south—to live and die free men.

“My children,” answered the missionary, “I pretend not to say what will happen, except as it has been told to us in the word of God. You know that we pale-faces have a book, in which the Great Spirit has told us his laws, and foretold to us many of the things that are to happen. Some of these things HAVE happened, while some remain TO happen. The loss of the ten tribes was foretold, and HAS happened; but their being FOUND again, has not YET happened, unless indeed I am so blessed as to be one of those who have been permitted to meet them in these openings. Here is the book—it goes where I go, and is my companion and friend, by day and by night; in good and evil; in season and out of season. To this book I cling as to my great anchor, that is to carry me through the storms in safety! Every line in it is precious; every word true!”

Perhaps half the chiefs present had seen books before, while those who now laid eyes on one for the first time, had heard of this art of the pale-faces, which enabled them to set down their traditions in a way peculiar to themselves. Even the Indians have their records, however, though resorting to the use of natural signs, and a species of hieroglyphics, in lieu of the more artistical process of using words and letters, in a systemized written language. The Bible, too, was a book of which all had heard, more or less; though not one of those present had ever been the subject of its influence. A Christian Indian, indeed—and a few of those were to be found even at that day—would hardly have attended a council convened for the objects which had caused this to be convened. Still, a strong but regulated curiosity existed, to see, and touch, and examine the great medicine-book of the pale-faces. There was a good deal of superstition blended with the Indian manner of regarding the sacred volume; some present having their doubts about touching it, even while most excited by admiration, and a desire to probe its secrets.