Standing at the window, one summer's afternoon, our attention was suddenly fixed by three singular figures approaching the house. More than one
member of our household had never yet seen an Indian, and unaware that any were in the neighborhood, a second glance was necessary to convince us that
these visitors must belong to the red race, whom we had long been so anxious to see. They came slowly towards the door, walking singly and silently,
wrapped in blankets, bareheaded and barefooted. Without knocking or speaking, they entered the house with a noiseless step, and stood silently near the
open door. We gave them a friendly greeting, and they proved to be women of the Oneida tribe, belonging to a family who had encamped in the woods the
day before, with the purpose of selling their baskets in the village. Meek in countenance, with delicate forms and low voices, they had far more of the
peculiarities of the red race about them than one would look for in a tribe long accustomed to intercourse with the whites, and a portion of whom have
become more than half civilized. Only one of the three could speak English, and she seemed to do so with effort and reluctance. They were dressed in
gowns of blue calico, rudely cut, coarsely stitched together, and so short as to show their broadcloth leggings worked with beads. Their heads were entirely
bare, their straight, black hair hanging loose about their shoulders, and although it was midsummer at the time, they were closely wrapped in coarse white
blankets. We asked their names. "Wallee"­"Awa"­"Cootlee"­was the answer. Of what tribe? "Oneida," was the reply, in a voice low and melancholy as the
note of the whip-poor-will, giving the soft Italian sound to the vowels, and four syllables to the word. They were delicately made, of the usual height of
American women, and their features were good, without being pretty. About their necks, arms, and ankles, they wore strings of cheap ornaments, pewter
medals, and coarse glass beads, with the addition of a few scraps of tin, the refuse of some tin-shop passed on their way. One, the grandmother, was a
Christian; the other two were Pagans. There was something startling and very painful in hearing these poor creatures within our own community, and under
our own roof, declaring themselves heathens! They paid very little attention to the objects about them, until the youngest of the three observed a small
Chinese basket on a table near her. She rose silently, took the basket in her hand, examined it carefully, made a single exclamation of pleasure, and then
exchanged a few words with her companions in their own wild but musical tongue. They all seemed struck with this specimen of Chinese ingenuity. They
asked, as usual, for bread and cold meat, and a supply was cheerfully given them, with the addition of some cake, about which they appeared to care very
little. In the mean time a messenger had been sent to one of the shops of the village, where toys and knicknacks for children were sold, and he returned with
a handful of copper rings and brooches, pewter medals, and bits of bright ribbons, which were presented to our guests; the simple creatures looking much
gratified, as well as surprised, although their thanks were brief, and they still kept up the true Indian etiquette of mastering all emotion. They were, indeed,
very silent and unwilling to talk, so that it was not easy to gather much information from them; but their whole appearance was so much more Indian than
we had been prepared for, while their manners were so gentle and womanly, so free from anything coarse or rude in the midst of their untutored ignorance,
that we were much pleased with the visit. Later in the day we went to their camp, as they always call their halting-place; here we found several children and
two men of the family. These last were evidently full-blooded Indians, with every mark of their race stamped upon them; but, alas! not a trace of the "brave"
about either. Both had that heavy, sensual, spiritless expression, the stamp of vice, so painful to behold on the human countenance. They had thrown off the
blanket and were equipped in ragged coats, pantaloons, and beavers, from the cast-off clothing of their white neighbors, with the striking addition, however,
of bits of tin to match those of the squaws. Some of these scraps were fastened round their hats, others were secured on their breasts and in the
button-holes, where the great men of the Old World wear diamond stars and badges of honor. They were cutting bows and arrows for the boys of the
village, of ash-wood, and neither of them spoke to us; they either did not, or would not understand our companion, when addressed in English. The women
and children were sitting on the ground, busy with their baskets, which they make very neatly, although their patterns are all simple. They generally dye the
strips of ash with colors purchased in the villages from the druggists, using only now and then, for the same purpose, the juices of leaves and berries, when
these are in season, and easily procured.

Since the visit of the Oneida squaws, several other parties have been in the village. The very next season a family of three generations made their
appearance at the door, claiming an hereditary acquaintance with the master of the house. They were much less wild than our first visitors, having discarded
the blanket entirely, and speaking English very well. The leader and patriarch of the party bore a Dutch name, given him, probably, by some of his friends
on the Mohawk Flats; and he was, moreover, entitled to write Reverend before it, being a Methodist minister­the Rev. Mr. Kunkerpott. He was
notwithstanding a full-blooded Indian, with the regular copper-colored complexion and high cheekbones; the outline of his face was decidedly Roman, and
his long, gray hair had a wave which is rare among his people; the mouth, where the savage expression is usually most strongly marked, was small, with a
kindly expression about it. Altogether he was a strange mixture of the Methodist preacher and the Indian patriarch. His son was much more savage than
himself in appearance­a silent, cold-looking man; and the grandson, a boy of ten or twelve, was one of the most uncouth, impish-looking creatures we ever
beheld. He wore a long-tailed coat twice too large for him, with boots of the same size, and he seemed particularly proud of these last, looking at them from
time to time with great satisfaction , as he went tottering along. The child's face was very wild, and he was bareheaded, with an unusual quantity of long,
black hair streaming about his head and shoulders. While the grandfather was conversing about old times, the boy diverted himself by twirling around on
one leg, a feat which would have seemed almost impossible, booted as he was, but which he nevertheless accomplished with remarkable dexterity, spinning
round and round, his arms extended, his large black eyes staring stupidly before him, his mouth open, and his long hair flying in every direction, as wild a
looking creature as one could wish to see. We expected every moment that he would fall breathless and exhausted, like a dancing dervish, supposing that
the child had been taught this accomplishment as a means of pleasing his civilized friends; but no, he was only amusing himself, and kept his footing to the
last.

Civilization, in its earliest approaches, seems to produce a different effect upon the men and the women, the former losing, and the latter gaining by it. In the
savage state, the women appear inferior to the men, but in a half-civilized condition, they have much the advantage over the stronger sex. They are rarely
beautiful, but often very pleasing; their gentle expression, meek and subdued manner, low, musical voices, and mild, dark eyes, excite an interest in their
favor, while one turns with pain and disgust from the brutal, stupid, drunken countenances too often seen among the men. Many a young girl might be
found to-day among the half-civilized tribes, whose manner and appearance would accord with one's idea of the gentle Pocahontas; but it is rare, indeed,
that a man is seen among them who would make a Powhattan, a Philip, or an Uncas. And yet, unfavorable as their appearance is, there are few even of the
most degraded who, when aroused, will not use the poetical, figurative speech, and the dignified, impressive gesture of their race. The contrast between the
degraded aspect they bear every day, and these sudden instinctive flashes, is very striking. Instances are not wanting, however, in which men of purely
Indian blood have conquered the many obstacles in their path, and now command the sympathy and respect of their white brethren by the energy and
perseverance they have shown in mastering a new position among civilized men.

The women either dislike to speak English, or they are unable to do so, for they are very laconic indeed in conversation; many of them, although
understanding what is said, will only answer you by smiles and signs; but as they do not aim as much as the men at keeping up the cold dignity of their
race, this mute language is often kindly and pleasing. Many of those who carry about their simple wares for sale in the neighborhood of their own villages
would be remarked for their amiable expression, gentle manner, and low, musical voices. They still carry their children tied up in a blanket at their backs,
supporting them by a band passing round the forehead, which brings the weight chiefly upon the head.

It is easy to wish these poor people well; but surely something more may justly be required of us­of those who have taken their country and their place on
the earth. The time seems at last to have come when their own eyes are opening to the real good of civilization, the advantages of knowledge, the blessings
of Christianity. Let us acknowledge the strong claim they have upon us, not in word only, but in deed also. The native intellect of the red men who peopled
this part of America surpassed that of many other races laboring under the curses of savage life; they have shown bravery, fortitude, religious feeling,
eloquence, imagination, quickness of intellect, with much dignity of manner; and if we are true to our duty, now at the moment when they are making of
their own accord a movement in the path of improvement, perhaps the day may not be distant when men of Indian blood may be numbered among the wise
and the good, laboring in behalf of our common country.

It is painful, indeed, to remember how little has yet been done for the Indian during the three centuries since he and the white man first met on the Atlantic
coast. But such is only the common course of things; a savage race is almost invariable corrupted rather than improved by its earliest contact with a
civilized people; they suffer from the vices of civilization before they learn justly to comprehend its merits. It is with nations as with
individuals­amelioration is a slow process, corruption a rapid one.
 

Standing at the window, one summer's afternoon, our attention was suddenly fixed by three singular figures approaching the house. More than one
member of our household had never yet seen an Indian, and unaware that any were in the neighborhood, a second glance was necessary to convince us that
these visitors must belong to the red race, whom we had long been so anxious to see. They came slowly towards the door, walking singly and silently,
wrapped in blankets, bareheaded and barefooted. Without knocking or speaking, they entered the house with a noiseless step, and stood silently near the
open door. We gave them a friendly greeting, and they proved to be women of the Oneida tribe, belonging to a family who had encamped in the woods the
day before, with the purpose of selling their baskets in the village. Meek in countenance, with delicate forms and low voices, they had far more of the
peculiarities of the red race about them than one would look for in a tribe long accustomed to intercourse with the whites, and a portion of whom have
become more than half civilized. Only one of the three could speak English, and she seemed to do so with effort and reluctance. They were dressed in
gowns of blue calico, rudely cut, coarsely stitched together, and so short as to show their broadcloth leggings worked with beads. Their heads were entirely
bare, their straight, black hair hanging loose about their shoulders, and although it was midsummer at the time, they were closely wrapped in coarse white
blankets. We asked their names. "Wallee"­"Awa"­"Cootlee"­was the answer. Of what tribe? "Oneida," was the reply, in a voice low and melancholy as the
note of the whip-poor-will, giving the soft Italian sound to the vowels, and four syllables to the word. They were delicately made, of the usual height of
American women, and their features were good, without being pretty. About their necks, arms, and ankles, they wore strings of cheap ornaments, pewter
medals, and coarse glass beads, with the addition of a few scraps of tin, the refuse of some tin-shop passed on their way. One, the grandmother, was a
Christian; the other two were Pagans. There was something startling and very painful in hearing these poor creatures within our own community, and under
our own roof, declaring themselves heathens! They paid very little attention to the objects about them, until the youngest of the three observed a small
Chinese basket on a table near her. She rose silently, took the basket in her hand, examined it carefully, made a single exclamation of pleasure, and then
exchanged a few words with her companions in their own wild but musical tongue. They all seemed struck with this specimen of Chinese ingenuity. They
asked, as usual, for bread and cold meat, and a supply was cheerfully given them, with the addition of some cake, about which they appeared to care very
little. In the mean time a messenger had been sent to one of the shops of the village, where toys and knicknacks for children were sold, and he returned with
a handful of copper rings and brooches, pewter medals, and bits of bright ribbons, which were presented to our guests; the simple creatures looking much
gratified, as well as surprised, although their thanks were brief, and they still kept up the true Indian etiquette of mastering all emotion. They were, indeed,
very silent and unwilling to talk, so that it was not easy to gather much information from them; but their whole appearance was so much more Indian than
we had been prepared for, while their manners were so gentle and womanly, so free from anything coarse or rude in the midst of their untutored ignorance,
that we were much pleased with the visit. Later in the day we went to their camp, as they always call their halting-place; here we found several children and
two men of the family. These last were evidently full-blooded Indians, with every mark of their race stamped upon them; but, alas! not a trace of the "brave"
about either. Both had that heavy, sensual, spiritless expression, the stamp of vice, so painful to behold on the human countenance. They had thrown off the
blanket and were equipped in ragged coats, pantaloons, and beavers, from the cast-off clothing of their white neighbors, with the striking addition, however,
of bits of tin to match those of the squaws. Some of these scraps were fastened round their hats, others were secured on their breasts and in the
button-holes, where the great men of the Old World wear diamond stars and badges of honor. They were cutting bows and arrows for the boys of the
village, of ash-wood, and neither of them spoke to us; they either did not, or would not understand our companion, when addressed in English. The women
and children were sitting on the ground, busy with their baskets, which they make very neatly, although their patterns are all simple. They generally dye the
strips of ash with colors purchased in the villages from the druggists, using only now and then, for the same purpose, the juices of leaves and berries, when
these are in season, and easily procured.

Since the visit of the Oneida squaws, several other parties have been in the village. The very next season a family of three generations made their
appearance at the door, claiming an hereditary acquaintance with the master of the house. They were much less wild than our first visitors, having discarded
the blanket entirely, and speaking English very well. The leader and patriarch of the party bore a Dutch name, given him, probably, by some of his friends
on the Mohawk Flats; and he was, moreover, entitled to write Reverend before it, being a Methodist minister­the Rev. Mr. Kunkerpott. He was
notwithstanding a full-blooded Indian, with the regular copper-colored complexion and high cheekbones; the outline of his face was decidedly Roman, and
his long, gray hair had a wave which is rare among his people; the mouth, where the savage expression is usually most strongly marked, was small, with a
kindly expression about it. Altogether he was a strange mixture of the Methodist preacher and the Indian patriarch. His son was much more savage than
himself in appearance­a silent, cold-looking man; and the grandson, a boy of ten or twelve, was one of the most uncouth, impish-looking creatures we ever
beheld. He wore a long-tailed coat twice too large for him, with boots of the same size, and he seemed particularly proud of these last, looking at them from
time to time with great satisfaction , as he went tottering along. The child's face was very wild, and he was bareheaded, with an unusual quantity of long,
black hair streaming about his head and shoulders. While the grandfather was conversing about old times, the boy diverted himself by twirling around on
one leg, a feat which would have seemed almost impossible, booted as he was, but which he nevertheless accomplished with remarkable dexterity, spinning
round and round, his arms extended, his large black eyes staring stupidly before him, his mouth open, and his long hair flying in every direction, as wild a
looking creature as one could wish to see. We expected every moment that he would fall breathless and exhausted, like a dancing dervish, supposing that
the child had been taught this accomplishment as a means of pleasing his civilized friends; but no, he was only amusing himself, and kept his footing to the
last.

Civilization, in its earliest approaches, seems to produce a different effect upon the men and the women, the former losing, and the latter gaining by it. In the
savage state, the women appear inferior to the men, but in a half-civilized condition, they have much the advantage over the stronger sex. They are rarely
beautiful, but often very pleasing; their gentle expression, meek and subdued manner, low, musical voices, and mild, dark eyes, excite an interest in their
favor, while one turns with pain and disgust from the brutal, stupid, drunken countenances too often seen among the men. Many a young girl might be
found to-day among the half-civilized tribes, whose manner and appearance would accord with one's idea of the gentle Pocahontas; but it is rare, indeed,
that a man is seen among them who would make a Powhattan, a Philip, or an Uncas. And yet, unfavorable as their appearance is, there are few even of the
most degraded who, when aroused, will not use the poetical, figurative speech, and the dignified, impressive gesture of their race. The contrast between the
degraded aspect they bear every day, and these sudden instinctive flashes, is very striking. Instances are not wanting, however, in which men of purely
Indian blood have conquered the many obstacles in their path, and now command the sympathy and respect of their white brethren by the energy and
perseverance they have shown in mastering a new position among civilized men.

The women either dislike to speak English, or they are unable to do so, for they are very laconic indeed in conversation; many of them, although
understanding what is said, will only answer you by smiles and signs; but as they do not aim as much as the men at keeping up the cold dignity of their
race, this mute language is often kindly and pleasing. Many of those who carry about their simple wares for sale in the neighborhood of their own villages
would be remarked for their amiable expression, gentle manner, and low, musical voices. They still carry their children tied up in a blanket at their backs,
supporting them by a band passing round the forehead, which brings the weight chiefly upon the head.

It is easy to wish these poor people well; but surely something more may justly be required of us­of those who have taken their country and their place on
the earth. The time seems at last to have come when their own eyes are opening to the real good of civilization, the advantages of knowledge, the blessings
of Christianity. Let us acknowledge the strong claim they have upon us, not in word only, but in deed also. The native intellect of the red men who peopled
this part of America surpassed that of many other races laboring under the curses of savage life; they have shown bravery, fortitude, religious feeling,
eloquence, imagination, quickness of intellect, with much dignity of manner; and if we are true to our duty, now at the moment when they are making of
their own accord a movement in the path of improvement, perhaps the day may not be distant when men of Indian blood may be numbered among the wise
and the good, laboring in behalf of our common country.

It is painful, indeed, to remember how little has yet been done for the Indian during the three centuries since he and the white man first met on the Atlantic
coast. But such is only the common course of things; a savage race is almost invariable corrupted rather than improved by its earliest contact with a
civilized people; they suffer from the vices of civilization before they learn justly to comprehend its merits. It is with nations as with
individuals­amelioration is a slow process, corruption a rapid one.