parties, for the national good, and for the good of all the parties or people.  But there could never be between the two representative chiefs other than a political reconciliation.  There was no attempt on the part of either to deceive the other.  Both acted from the same high motives, while their features told the truth—­personally they were enemies.  The son held the hand of his father’s executioner, red with the life-blood of him who gave him being—­a father he revered, and whose memory he cherished.  The filial and hereditary hatred was in his heart.  The feeling was mutual.  Both knew it, and the cold, passive eye, and relaxed, inexpressive features but bespoke the subdued, not the extinguished passion.  Chillie McIntosh is only one-fourth Indian in blood.  Hopothlayohola is a full-blooded Indian.  His features are coarse and striking.  His high forehead and prominent brow indicate intellect, and his large compressed mouth and massive underjaw, terminating in a square, prominent chin, show great fixity of purpose, and resolution of will.  Unquestionably he was the great man of his tribe.

Tuskega, or Jim’s Boy, was a man of herculean proportions.  He was six feet eight inches in height, and in every way admirably proportioned.  He was the putative son of a chief whose name he bore, and whose titles and power he inherited.  But the old warrior-chief never acknowledged him as such.  The old chief owned as a slave a very large mulatto man, named Jim, who was his confidant and chief adviser, and to him he ascribed the parentage of his successor, and always called him Jim’s boy.  His complexion, hair, and great size but too plainly indicated his parentage.  He was not a man of much mark, except for his size, and would probably never have attained distinction but through hereditary right.

In their new home these people do not increase.  The efforts at civilization seem only to reach the mixed bloods, and these only in proportion to the white blood in their veins.  The Indian is incapable of the white man’s civilization, as indeed all other inferior races are.  He has fulfilled his destiny, and is passing away.  No approximation to the pursuits or the condition of the white man operates otherwise than as a means of his destruction.  It seems his contact is death to every inferior race, when not servile and subjected to his care and control.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

FUN, FACT, AND FANCY.

EUGENIUS NESBITT—­WASHINGTON POE—­YELVERTON P. KING—­PREPARING TO
RECEIVE THE COURT—­WALTON TAVERN, IN LEXINGTON—­BILLY SPRINGER, OF
SPARTA—­FREEMAN WALKER—­AN AUGUSTA LAWYER—­A GEORGIA MAJOR—­MAJOR
WALKER’S BED—­UNCLE NED—­DISCHARGING A HOG ON HIS OWN RECOGNIZANCE
—­MORNING ADMONITION AND EVENING COUNSEL—­A MOTHER’S REQUEST—­
INVOCATION—­CONCLUSION.

To-day I parted from Eugenius Nesbitt and Washington Poe, two of only four or five of those who commenced life and the practice of law with me in the State of Georgia.  We had just learned of the death of Y.P.  King, of Greensboro, Georgia, who was only a few years our senior.  The four of us were young together, and were friends, but I had been separated from them for more than forty years.  Yet the ties of youthful attachment remained, and together we mourned the loss of our compeer and companion in youth.