The Indians are often made a prey of and cheated by the unprincipled settlers, who think it no crime to overreach a red-skin.  One anecdote will fully illustrate this fact.  A young squaw, who was near becoming a mother, stopped at a Smith-town settler’s house to rest herself.  The woman of the house, who was Irish, was peeling for dinner some large white turnips, which her husband had grown in their garden.  The Indian had never seen a turnip before, and the appearance of the firm, white, juicy root gave her such a keen craving to taste it that she very earnestly begged for a small piece to eat.  She had purchased at Peterborough a large stone-china bowl, of a very handsome pattern (or, perhaps, got it at the store in exchange for basket), the worth of which might be half-a-dollar.  If the poor squaw longed for the turnip, the value of which could scarcely reach a copper, the covetous European had fixed as longing a glance upon the china bowl, and she was determined to gratify her avaricious desire and obtain it on the most easy terms.  She told the squaw, with some disdain, that her man did not grow turnips to give away to “Injuns,” but she would sell her one.  The squaw offered her four coppers, all the change she had about her.  This the woman refused with contempt.  She then proffered a basket; but that was not sufficient; nothing would satisfy her but the bowl.  The Indian demurred; but opposition had only increased her craving for the turnip in a tenfold degree; and, after a short mental struggle, in which the animal propensity overcame the warnings of prudence, the squaw gave up the bowl, and received in return one turnip!  The daughter of this woman told me this anecdote of her mother as a very clever thing.  What ideas some people have of moral justice!

I have said before that the Indian never forgets a kindness.  We had a thousand proofs of this, when overtaken by misfortune, and withering beneath the iron grasp of poverty, we could scarcely obtain bread for ourselves and our little ones; then it was that the truth of the eastern proverb was brought home to our hearts, and the goodness of God fully manifested towards us, “Cast thy bread upon the waters, and thou shalt find it after many days.”  During better times we had treated these poor savages with kindness and liberality, and when dearer friends looked coldly upon us they never forsook us.  For many a good meal I have been indebted to them, when I had nothing to give in return, when the pantry was empty, and “the hearthstone growing cold,” as they term the want of provisions to cook at it.  And their delicacy in conferring these favours was not the least admirable part of their conduct.  John Nogan, who was much attached to us, would bring a fine bunch of ducks, and drop them at my feet “for the papouse,” or leave a large muskinonge on the sill of the door, or place a quarter of venison just within it, and slip away without saying a word, thinking that receiving a present from a poor Indian might hurt our feelings, and he would spare us the mortification of returning thanks.