_Pity, or compassion, or gratitude, or love._--p. 270.
The Indians are extremely cool and circumspect in every word and
action; there is nothing that hurries them into any intemperate
warmth, but that inveteracy to their enemies, which is rooted in every
Indian heart, and can never be eradicated. In all other instances they
are cool, and remarkably cautious, taking care not to betray on any
account their emotions. If an Indian has discovered that a friend is
in danger of being intercepted and cut off by one to whom he has
rendered himself obnoxious, he does not inform him in plain and
explicit terms of the danger he runs by pursuing the track near which
the enemy lies in wait for him, but he drily asks him which way he is
going that day, and, having received his answer, with the same
indifference tells him that he has been informed that a dog lies near
the spot, which might probably do him a mischief. This hint proves
sufficient.
This apathy often shows itself on occasions that would call forth the
fervour of a susceptible heart. If an Indian has been absent from his
family and friends many months, either on a war or hunting party, when
his wife or children meet him at some distance from his habitation,
instead of the affectionate sensations that would naturally arise in
the breasts of more refined beings, and be productive of mutual
congratulations, he continues his course without paying the least
attention to those who surround him, till he arrives at his home.
He there sits down, and, with the same unconcern as if he had not been
absent a day, smokes his pipe; those of his acquaintance who have
followed him do the same, and perhaps it is several hours before he
relates to them the incidents which have befallen him during his
absence, though perhaps he has left a father, brother, or son, on the
field, whose loss he ought to have lamented.
Has an Indian been engaged for several days in the chace, and by
accident continued long without food, when he arrives at the tent of a
friend, where he knows his wants may be immediately supplied, he takes
care not to show the least symptom of impatience, or to betray the
extreme hunger by which he is tortured; but, on being invited in, sits
contentedly down, and smokes his pipe with as much composure as if
every appetite was allayed, and he was perfectly at ease; he does the
same among strangers.
If you tell an Indian that his children have greatly signalized
themselves against an enemy, have taken many scalps, and brought home
many prisoners, he does not appear to feel any extraordinary pleasure
on the occasion; his answer generally is, "It is well," and he makes
very little further enquiry about it. On the contrary, if you inform
him that his children are slain, or taken prisoners, he makes no
complaints; he only replies, "It does not signify," and probably, for
some time at least, asks not how it happened.
Their constancy in suffering pain exceeds any thing known of any other
people. Nothing is more common than to see persons of all ages, and of
both sexes, suffer for many hours, and sometimes many days, together,
the sharpest effects of fire, and all that the most ingenious cruelty
can invent to make it most painful, without letting a sigh escape.
Accustomed from their youth to innumerable hardships, they soon become
superior to a sense of danger, or the dread of death, and their
fortitude, implanted by nature, and nurtured by example, by precept,
and by accident, never experiences a moment's allay.