The woods in the upper part of Ohio, nearest the lake, are tolerably open, and occasionally interspersed with sumach and sassafras:  the soil somewhat sandy.  I met with but few Indians, until my arrival at Lower Sandusky, on the Sandusky river; here there were several groups returning to their reserves, from Canada, where they had been to receive the annual presents made them by the British government.  In the next county (Seneca) there is a reservation of about three miles square, occupied by Senecas, Cayugas, and part of the Iroquois or six nations, once a most powerful confederation amongst the red men.[1] In Crawford county there is a very large reserve belonging to the Huron or Wyandot Indians.  These, though speaking a dialect of the Iroquois tongue, are more in connexion with the Delawares than with the Iroquois.  The Wyandots are much esteemed by their white neighbours, for probity and good behaviour.  They dress very tastefully.  A handsome chintz shawl tied in the Moorish fashion about the head—­leggings of blue cloth, reaching half way up the thigh, sewn at the outside, leaving a hem of about an inch deep—­mocassins, or Indian boots, made of deer-skin, to fit the foot close, like a glove—­a shirt or tunic of white calico—­and a hunting shirt, or frock, made of strong blue-figured cotton or woollen cloth, with a small fringed cape, and long sleeves,—­a tomahawk and scalping knife stuck in a broad leather belt.  Accoutred in this manner, and mounted on a small hardy horse, called here an Indian pony, imagine a tall, athletic, brown man, with black hair and eyes—­the hair generally plaited in front, and sometimes hanging in long wavy curls behind—­aquiline nose, and fearless aspect, and you have a fair idea of the Wyandot and Cayuga Indian.  The Senecas and Oneidas whom I met with, were not so handsome in general, but as athletic, and about the same average height—­five feet nine or ten.

The Indians here, as every where else, are governed by their own laws, and never have recourse to the whites to settle their disputes.  That silent unbending spirit, which has always characterized the Indian, has alone kept in check the rapacious disposition of the whites.  Several attempts have been made to induce the Indians to sell their lands, and go beyond the Mississippi, but hitherto without effect.  The Indian replies to the fine speeches and wily language of the whites, “We hold this small bit of land, in the vast country of our fathers, by your written talk, and it is noted on our wampums—­the bones of our fathers lie here, and we cannot forsake them.  You tell us our great father (the president) is powerful, and that his arm is long and strong—­we believe it is so; but we are in hopes that he will not strike his red children for their lands, and that he will leave us this little piece to live upon—­the hatchet is long buried, let it not be disturbed.”

Jackson has lately published a manifesto to all the Indian tribes within the limits of the United States, commanding them to sell their reserves; and with few exceptions, has been answered in this manner.