“Why so?” inquired some one.
“Why, I find money with the tobacco.”
“Well! what of that? Keep it; it was given to you.”
“Ah!” said the Indian, shaking his head, “I got good man and bad man here,” pointing to his breast. “Good man say, ‘Money not yours; you must return it:’ bad man say, ‘’Tis yours; it was given to you.’ Good man say, ‘That not right: tobacco yours, money not yours.’ Bad man say, ‘Never mind, nobody know it; go buy rum.’ Good man say, ‘Oh no; no such thing.’ So poor Indian know not what to do. Me lie down to sleep, but no sleep; good man and bad man talk all night, and trouble me. So now, me bring money back: now, me feel good.”
Basil. I like that Indian very much.
Brian. No one could have acted more honestly.
Hunter. Whatever the Indians may be, when oppressed, wronged and deceived by the whites; and however they may act towards their enemies; they are usually honest towards their own tribe. While I was residing on the Big Beaver, says one who lived much among them, I passed by the door of an Indian who was a trader, and had, consequently, a quantity of goods in his house. He was going with his wife to Pittsburg, and they were shutting up the house; as no person remained in it during their absence. This shutting up was nothing else than putting a large block, with a few sticks of wood, outside against the door, so as to keep it closed. As I was looking at this man with attention, while he was so employed, he addressed me in these words:—
“See, my friend, this is an Indian lock that I am putting to my door.”
I answered, “Well enough; but I see you leave much property in the house: are you not afraid that those articles will be stolen while you are gone?”
“Stolen! by whom?”