Solution Manual for Principles of Financial

Accounting 12th Edition Needles Powers

1133940560 9781133940562
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CHAPTER 4—Solutions
COMPLETING THE ACCOUNTING CYCLE

Discussion Questions
DQ1. It is so called because its steps are repeated each accounting period. Step 1 of
one period follows step 6 of the prior period.

DQ2. Since the Income Summary account is used to accumulate a balance that is sub-
sequently transferred to owner's Capital (step 3), it would be possible to avoid the
use of the Income Summary account by closing the accounts (step 2) directly to
the owner's Capital account.

DQ3. All the income statement, or temporary, accounts and the Withdrawals account
have been closed, thus leaving only the balance sheet, or permanent, accounts
to carry over to the next accounting period.

DQ4. Reversing entries simplify the bookkeeping process for transactions involving ac-
crual types of adjustments. When the accrual is resolved in the next accounting
period through receipt or payment of cash, it is not necessary to know the amount
accrued at the end of the last accounting period.

DQ5. The Income Statement and Balance Sheet columns on a work sheet will balance
when initially totaled when net income equals exactly $0.
 4-1
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Short Exercises

SE1. Concepts Underlying Closing Entries

1. b 3. a
2. d 4. c

SE2. Accounting Cycle

b, f, c, h, e, i, d, a, g

SE3. Closing Revenue Accounts

Dec. 31 Patient Services Revenues 3,400

Laboratory Fees Revenues 1,800
Income Summary 5,200
To close the revenue accounts

SE4. Closing Expense Accounts

Dec. 31 Income Summary 3,000

Rent Expense 1,400
Wages Expense 1,100
Other Expenses 500
To close the expense accounts

SE5. Closing the Income Summary Account

Dec. 31 Income Summary 2,200

P. Mehta, Capital 2,200
To close the Income Summary account

SE6. Closing the Withdrawals Account

Dec. 31 P. Mehta, Capital 800

P. Mehta, Withdrawals 800
To close the Withdrawals account

4-2
© 2014 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be scanned, copied, duplicated, or posted to a publicly accessible website, in whole or in part.
 SE7. Posting Closing Entries

P. Mehta, Capital P. Mehta, Withdrawals

Dec. 31 800 Bal. 1,300 Bal. 800 Dec. 31 800
Dec. 31 2,200 Bal. —
Bal. 2,700

Income Summary Patient Services Revenues

Dec. 31 3,000 Dec. 31 5,200 Dec. 31 3,400 Bal. 3,400
31 2,200 Bal. —
Bal. —

Laboratory Fees Revenues Rent Expense

Dec. 31 1,800 Bal. 1,800 Bal. 1,400 Dec. 31 1,400
Bal. — Bal. —

Wages Expense Other Expenses

Bal. 1,100 Dec. 31 1,100 Bal. 500 Dec. 31 500
Bal. — Bal. —

SE8. Preparation of Reversing Entries

Apr. 1 Salaries Payable 360

Salaries Expense 360
To reverse accrual of salaries expense

SE9. Effects of Reversing Entries

Salaries Expense Salaries Payable

Mar. 31 Mar. 31
Bal. 1,800 Bal. —
Adj. 360 Adj. 360
Bal. 2,160 Bal. 360
Closing 2,160 Reversing 360
Bal. — Reversing 360 Apr. 1
Apr. 3 480 Bal. —
Bal. 120

4-3
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SE10. Preparation of Closing Entries

2014
Dec. 31 Service Revenue 2,600
Income Summary 2,600
To close the revenue account
Income Summary 1,550
Rent Expense 400
Wages Expense 900
Utilities Expense 200
Telephone Expense 50
To close the expense accounts
Income Summary 1,050
F. Katsu, Capital 1,050
To close the Income Summary account
F. Katsu, Capital 350
F. Katsu, Withdrawals 350
To close the Withdrawals account

SE11. Preparation of Closing Entries from a Work Sheet

Dec. 31 Repair Revenue 35,860

Income Summary 35,860
To close the revenue account
31 Income Summary 26,840
Wages Expense 13,260
Rent Expense 2,800
Supplies Expense 6,390
Insurance Expense 1,370
Depreciation Expense—Repair Equipment 3,020
To close the expense accounts
31 Income Summary 9,020
A. Riley, Capital 9,020
To close the Income Summary account
31 A. Riley, Capital 7,000
A. Riley, Withdrawals 7,000
To close the Withdrawals account

4-4
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Another document from Scribd.com that is
random and unrelated content:
Logan moved in early life to the banks of the Juniata, which is a
beautiful river, flowing through a wild romantic country, watered also by
the Susquehanna. In a pleasant valley he built his cabin, and married a
Shawnee wife. Thus he became identified with the Shawnese and
Delawares, though belonging to the Six Nations. And it was thus that he
became the victim of those lawless marauders, who believed Indians
every where lawful prey, when they could slaughter them with impunity.

Logan had listened in boyhood to the instructions of the Moravian

missionaries, and their gentle manners and soothing words, had probably
influenced his character. Whether he was a Christian, I know not; but
there are many who bear the name, in whom there is far less
exemplification of Christian principle. There was about him a quiet and
softened dignity, a refinement of sentiment and delicacy of feeling,
which characterizes none but the lofty, and exhales from none but the
pure. His house, like his father’s, was the Indian’s and the white man’s
home, the dwelling-place of love. Alas! that the milk of human kindness
in his bosom, should ever have been turned to gall, by bitter and
corroding wrongs. In his childhood, a little cousin had been taken captive
by white men, under aggravating circumstances, but for this he did not
become the white man’s foe. “Forgive and forget,” was his motto, in all
things that could be forgiven and forgotten; and he [239]lived to be an
aged man, before vengeance took possession of his soul.

In all the country where he dwelt he was known, and to every cottage
Logan was welcome; terror did not creep into the heart of woman, nor
fear fall upon the little child, when his footsteps were heard at their
doors. And this, as was afterwards proved, was not because he had not
all the traits which make a brave warrior, but from a settled principle that
all men were brothers, and should love one another.

He set forth at one time on a hunting expedition, and was alone in the
forest. Two white hunters were engaged in the same sport, and having
killed a bear in a wild gorge, were about to rest beside a bubbling spring,
when they saw an Indian form reflected in the water. They sprang to their
feet and grasped their rifles, but the Indian bent forward and struck the
rifles from their hands, and spilt the powder from their flasks. Then
stretching forth his open palm in token of friendship, he seated himself
beside them and won his way to their hearts. For a week they roamed
together, hunting and fishing by day, and sleeping by the same fire at
night. It was Logan, and henceforth their brother. He pursued his way
over the Alleghanies, and they returned to their homes, never again to
point the gun at an Indian’s heart.

Some white men on a journey stopped at his cabin to rest. For

amusement a shooting match was proposed, at which the price was to be
a dollar a shot. During the sport Logan lost five shots, and when they had
finished, he entered his lodge and brought five deer-skins for the
redemption of his forfeit, as a dollar a skin was the established price in
the market, and the red man’s money. But his guests refused to take
them, saying they had only been shooting for sport, and wished no
forfeit. But the honorable [240]Indian would take no denial, replying, “If
you had lost the shots I should have taken your dollars, but as I have lost,
take my skins.”

Another time he wished to buy grain, and took his skins to a tailor, who
adulterated the wheat, thinking the Indian would not know. But the miller
informed him, and advised him to apply to a magistrate for redress. He
went to a Mr. Brown, who kindly saw that his loss was made up, for
Logan came often to his house, and he knew his noble heart and grieved
to see him wronged. As he was waiting the decision of the magistrate, he
played with a little girl, who was just trying to walk, and the mother
remarked that she needed some shoes, which she was not able to
purchase for her.

The child was very fond of Logan, and loved to sit upon his knee, and
when he went away was ready to go too. He asked the mother if he might
take her to his cabin for the day, and she, knowing well the attention
which would be bestowed upon her in the Indian’s lodge, consented.
Towards night there was some anxiety about the little one, but the shades
of evening had scarcely begun to deepen, when Logan was seen wending
his way to the cottage with his precious charge; and when he placed her
in her mother’s arms, she saw upon her feet a tiny pair of moccasins,
neatly wrought, that his own hands had made. Was this not a delicate
way of showing gratitude, and expressing friendship? Was it a rude and
savage nature that prompted this attention to a little child, to make glad a
mother’s heart? Not all the refined teachings of civilization could have
invented a more beautiful tribute of sympathy and grateful affection.

Logan was never tempted by friend or foe to touch the fire-water to his
lips, till after wrongs kindled revenge in his soul. [241]

He adopted few of the customs, and rejected all the vices of civilization.
This dignity and politeness were Indian characteristics, and are found
universally among his people.

But in an evil day the enemy found his way to the peaceful cabin in the
forest, and darkness shrouded all the remainder of the good man’s life.

Had Logan remained farther north, and preserved his identity with the
Six Nations, he would probably have been spared the woes which fell so
thickly upon him. The Iroquois were still formidable, and neither armies
nor individuals ventured to insult them without provocation. If it had
been known that he was a Sachem, and one of the chief men of his tribe,
he would have been left unmolested. But the sin would have been as
great of desolating a home, the inmates of which were peaceful
unoffending women and children.

A little company of military men were on their way to the west, and
encamped in the vicinity of Logan’s cabin. Not by the authority of their
captain, but unknown to him, two or three set off in the night to inflict
any injury which might be in their power upon the Indians they had
heard were near. The husband and father was absent, but they lured one
brother into the forest, and murdered him in cold blood, and then
returned to destroy another as cruelly, and then shot the mother and little
ones, leaving all upon the floor weltering in blood. Logan returned to
find his cabin tenanted only by the dead, and vengeance for the first time
was kindled in his bosom, and burned like a raging flame in his soul.
Now he became the white man’s foe, and incited every son of the forest
to slay without mercy their common enemy. Thus commenced the long
and frightful Indian war which filled the whole land with terror, and for
ten years stained our historical [242]records with Indian atrocities,
unparalleled in our colonial or national experience. The quiet peaceful
homes of white men were invaded, and women and children either killed
or carried away captive; but then it was not known why these outrages
were committed. They were ascribed to Indian love of war, and carnage,
and bloodshed; but wherever Indian cruelty may be traced, it will be
found to have been preceded by acts more cruel and heartless on the part
of white men

Stranger,—there are who think and write

The Indian’s soul untouched with light,
And that to him belongs the guilt
For all the blood his hand hath spilt!
Like mine, his friendly homes among,
They would have known God never made,
A heart all darkness, and how long
The Indian bore aggressive wrong.
Old Logan was the white man’s friend;
But injuries forced his love to end;
Of children, wife, and kindred shorn,
None left for him to joy or mourn,
He rose in calm, vindictive ire,
Beside his nation’s council fire,
And bade them, by their fathers slain,
No more in voiceless peace remain,
But lift the brand, and battle cry,
For vengeance, if not victory!

“Welcome, Englishmen! welcome, Englishmen!” was the pleasant

greeting our fathers heard on the shores of New England; and a similar
hospitality was extended to all who came, by this unsuspicious and
trusting people.
In 1774, a deputation was sent to treat with the Sachems and chiefs, and
to endeavor to appease their revenge. But Logan was a long time in
yielding. No persuasion could induce him to attend a council that was
[243]to treat of peace. He would not talk with white men of peace. It was
useless to contend longer, he knew—they might as well submit. There
was no hope for the Indian but to flee before the armed legions which
were pursuing them, but he would never be their friend.

At length Gen. Gleson, who was one of the deputation, followed him
into the depths of the forest; and there, seated upon a fallen tree, with
Cornstalk, the venerable Shawnee chief by his side, he was induced to
sign the treaty which all the other Sachems had signed before him, but
not till he had repeated the heart-rending story of his wrongs, and the
wrongs of his people. It was like wringing out his heart’s blood to see
them thus wasting away. They fell in thousands before the sword, and
tens of thousands before the still more desolating scourge of the fire-
water; and while he talked, the tears coursed down his furrowed cheeks,
and his keen sensibilities were quickened to the intensest suffering. Here
it was that he made the speech which is familiar to every English tongue.

The name of Cresap appears in the speech, as Logan thought he was with
the men at the time of the murders. The details of the transaction vary in
almost every account given of them, but as I have no room for
discussions, I give the best authenticated narrative, and transcribe the
speech as it first appeared in “Jefferson’s Notes on Virginia,” in which he
challenges all the authors of antiquity to produce any thing superior.

[Contents]

SPEECH OF LOGAN.

“I appeal to any white man to say, if ever he entered Logan’s cabin

hungry, and he gave him no meat; if ever he came cold and naked, and
he clothed him not. During [244]the course of the last long and bloody
war, Logan remained in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my
love for the whites, that my countrymen pointed as they passed, and said,
‘Logan is the friend of white men.’ Col. Cresap, the last spring, in cold
blood, and unprovoked, murdered all the relations of Logan, not even
sparing my women and children. There runs not a drop of my blood in
any living creature. This called on me for revenge. I have sought it. I
have killed many. I have fully glutted my vengeance. For my country I
rejoice at the beams of peace. But do not harbor a thought that mine is
the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He will not turn on his heel to save
his life. Who is there to mourn for Logan? Not one.”

Never again did Logan possess a . He wandered about for many

years from settlement to settlement, restless, moody, and unhappy, and
finally laid himself down in the forest to die. “There were none to mourn
for Logan;” but very truly Jefferson remarks, “his talents and
misfortunes have attached to him the respect and commiseration of a
world.” [245]
[Contents]
CHAPTER XIII.
 THE DARKEST PAGE OF INDIAN HISTORY.
The history of T is by far the darkest of all the pages of Indian
history. War and bloodshed are terrible,—terrible indeed; the stories of
massacres chill the blood in our veins; and the bitter strife of war is
revolting to all the finer feelings of our nature. But there has been a far
more bitter strife of treaties, at which the heart bleeds, and the spirit
moans.

When the Six Nations were fairly subdued, and settled on the free
reservations which were left to them in the western part of New York, if
they could have remained undisturbed, and experienced no more wrong
or dishonor, they would soon have adopted the arts of civilization; and,
through the instructions of the missionaries, have become a Christian
people.

But the echo of the warwhoop and the booming cannon had no sooner
died away, than there came among them an army of serpents in human
form, wearing the semblance of angels of light. These were land
speculators; and there is no species of bribery or corruption within the
power of man to which they did not resort, in order to drive the Indians
entirely from our borders.

By this means they were kept in a constantly unsettled state, so that for
many years the labors of the missionaries seemed utterly in vain. Some
of the chiefs [246]would now and then yield to bribery, and some to
deception, and conclude to give up all they possessed, and remove
beyond the Mississippi. And, as late as 1846, an emigration party was
formed, and more than a hundred departed to the western wilds, where
more than half of them perished before the end of a year.

By a gross and wicked fraud, the Buffalo reservation was finally

obtained, so that the Indians were all obliged to move from their
comfortable homes and well-tilled fields, and commence anew in the
forests to fell trees, and plough, and plant, and sow. By a similar fraud,
the Tonawanda reservation was claimed; but the chiefs and people would
not remove, saying the treaty had never been signed by any member of
those who had the power to make contracts, and they had no desire to
part with another acre of their lands to white men. So the case is still in
the courts, where thousands of dollars have been spent in an offensive
and defensive war of words and quibbles. But the Indians now have
lawyers among themselves, and firm friends and able counsellors among
white people, and it is hoped the right will yet prevail.

During these troublous times there were many affecting appeals made to
societies and the Government, which, one would think, might melt hearts
of stone, and prove, too, that eloquence did not die with Red Jacket or
Cornplanter.

These troubles, too, rallied around them many friends, especially among
the Quakers, and awakened sympathy and renewed effort in their behalf.
A few extracts from letters, written by those who defended them in the
hour of their calamity, and from the speeches of some of their Chiefs, a
few of whom are still living, will give some idea of what the Indian is in
a civilized state, when literally seated by his fireside. [247]

Extract from a Report, made by a deputation of Friends, to investigate

the true nature of the differences between the land speculators and the
Indians:—

“It has been common for those who would deprive the Indians of their
lands, first to describe them as ignorant, or stupid, or savage; and then,
‘for such worthy cause, to deem them as their lawful prey,’ to put them
out of the pale of civilization, and then shut upon them the gate of mercy.

“But it is not true, that these remnants of the Six Nations are either
barbarous or vicious. On the contrary, they are an innocent and
improving people. Feeling their own weakness they have been forced to
yield to oppression and injury; but they are neither quarrelsome nor
vindictive. They are the remnant of a bold, warlike, and highly gifted
race; fallen indeed from the dizzy height of a tremendous political and
physical power, but bearing that fall with patience and dignity; inspiring
respect, and rendering them objects of intense interest to the
philanthropist and philosopher.

“These New York Indians, like all other communities of mankind,

present great varieties of character and grades of intellect, but as a
people, perhaps none of the aborigines of North America have equalled
them in all the manifestations of mental power. They have not had the
use of letters to store their minds with knowledge, or to record their own
achievements; yet we know that they have had many great and talented
men among them, who, making a very moderate allowance for the want
of education, would not suffer by comparison with the greatest of
European competitors. They have from the earliest times been
considered a very extraordinary race, distinguished from all the
surrounding nations by their capacity for negotiation, [248]eloquence, and
war. Remarkable for the love of liberty, they scorned submission to
foreign control. Baron La Houtan says of them, ‘They laugh at the
menaces of kings and governors, for they have no idea of dependence—
the very word to them is insupportable. They look upon themselves as
sovereigns, accountable to none but God, whom they call the Great
Spirit.’

“De Witt Clinton in his history of the Six Nations informs us, that they
held supremacy over a country of amazing extent and fertility, inhabited
by warlike and numerous nations, which must have been the result of
unity of design and system of action, proceeding from a wise and
energetic policy, continued for a long course of time. That in eloquence
and dignity, and in all the characteristics of personal policy, they surpass
an assembly of feudal barons.

“Their territory was estimated at 1,200 miles long by 700 broad,

including the great lakes or inland seas which bound our possessions to
the north. Among their orators they had a Garangula, a Cornplanter, a
Red Jacket, and a Big Kettle, of whom an elegant writer has said, ‘they
were men whose majesty of mind shone with a lustre that no belittling
appellations could bedim.’ President Jefferson says, ‘I may challenge the
whole orations of Demosthenes and Cicero, and of any more eminent
orator, if Europe has furnished more eminent, to produce a single
passage superior to the speech of Logan; yet this Logan was the son of a
Cayuga chief, a Sachem of the New York Indians.’

“When the news spread among them that the treaty was signed, and their
land sold, there was unutterable sorrow. To the poor Senecas it was ‘a
day of darkness and of gloominess, of clouds and of thick darkness,’
through which a ray of gladness could not penetrate. [249]Consternation
and gloom covered their settlements. Their women were seen on all sides
weeping in their houses—along their roads—as they passed to their
occupations, and in the fields whilst engaged in their labors. One of their
chiefs, in a speech on the occasion said, ‘It seems as if we should be
worn down. When we see our fields covered with grain, and our orchards
loaded with fruit, it only increases our sorrows.’ The settled and
expressive gloom that was manifested upon their countenances and
deportment attested the reality of their sorrows.

“The cruelty of the attempt to drive the Indians away at this time was
enhanced by the consideration that within the last half century, under the
care of Friends, they had made great advances in civilization. They had
good houses, barns, horses, wagons, horned cattle, sheep, swine, and
farming utensils. They had places of worship and schools, many of them
could read and write, and had books and private libraries. They had good
farms, and some skill in agriculture. It would be far less cruel to drive the
surrounding white population into the deserts beyond the Missouri, than
to send there the Seneca Indians. The former would soon gather around
them all the comforts of life—the latter would soon scatter, or perish for
ever.”

The following is a communication to the Society of Friends at Baltimore,

from twenty Chiefs of the Seneca Nation, making known their troubles.

Cattaraugus in Council, Oct. 5, 1845.

T C F ,

“B :—We are informed you are soon to hold a great Council in

Baltimore, on the subject of our affairs. We pray the Great Spirit may
strengthen you, and give you wisdom and direct you aright in all your
deliberations. [250]

“B :—We know you love us; the Great Spirit has taught you to
do so. Your ears have been open to hear our cries, and your hearts
inclined to help us in our distress. We cannot reward you; we have
nothing to give you in return but our love and gratitude. This you have
full and complete.

“B :—When your fathers were weak and ours were strong, the
Great Spirit led them to believe you were their friends; they helped you
in your childlike condition. Things have changed! You have become
great and strong, and we poor and weak. You are now paying us for what
our fathers have done.

“B :—Our troubles are great indeed. This you are sensible of,
and have done much to relieve us in our distress; but the chains of the
white men have grown, and continue to grow tight upon us at the loss
and expense of our substance. They multiply, and become too heavy for
us to endure.

“B :—We have none (on earth) to look to for aid and protection,
but you. When you forsake us, all is lost. Our wives and daughters wet
their pillows with their tears, and pray the Great Spirit to keep your ears
open that you may hear their cries.

“B :—We have but little to say; our mouths are almost closed.
Our hopes are in you. Farewell.”

Extract from an address to the Committee of the Four Yearly Meetings of

Friends of New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore and Genesee, by several
Indian Chiefs.
“When we turn our faces backward, and look over the histories of the
past, we find that more than fifty winters have gone by since the
Iroquois, or Six Nations, first selected [251]the Society of Friends as their
friends, upon whom they could repose confidence without fear of being
betrayed.

“The selection was made from the sects and denominations of those who
styled themselves Christians, at the time when war had diminished the
members of the Iroquois braves—when the Iroquois bowstring had been
broken—when his council fires were nearly put out by the blood of his
people, and the loud thundering voices of the big iron guns of the pale
faces caused the ground to tremble beneath his feet, and his council
house to shake to its very foundation—when oppression crushed the
Iroquois, and cruelty made his heart bleed—when murder and robbery
committed upon the red man, brought bounty to the spoiler committing
the foul deed,—when the pale-faces, like hungry hounds, chased the red
man from his hunting grounds.

“It was then that the red man’s sun was darkened, and the Great Spirit
had drawn his sable garment before its shining face, and left his red
children to roam in gloom and uncertainty. In looking round, the Iroquois
saw none to assist him in his struggles for liberty, his country, and his
firesides,—he found no sympathy from the pale-faced Christians, save
from the Society of Friends, who, with the true principle of the spirit of
Christianity implanted in their breast, guided by the dictation of the
Good Spirit, and following the counsel and mandates of H
, came to our relief; not with powder, bullets, or arms, but with
sympathy in their bosoms, pity in their hearts, and friendship in their
hands; and our tradition informs us, that since the time this alliance was
established between the Society of Friends and our people; nothing has
occurred to mar our mutual [252]understanding, or tarnish the chain of
friendship that bound us together.

“B :—We hope that you may teach your children to love and pity
the red man; so that when the Master of life and light shall call you
hence, your red brothers may still have friends like you, and the good
understanding now existing between us, be for ever perpetuated and
cherished between your posterity and ours. For the services you have
rendered us, accept the gratitude of an injured and oppressed race, and
may the Great Spirit watch over and protect you.”

There were not at any time more than a fifteenth part of the whole nation
in favor of removal, and the consent of those few was obtained by
misrepresentation and bribery, for which sums were paid in different
ways and at different times to the amount of $32,000. And yet at one
time every rood of land was ceded, and the process of removal
commenced. It is due to the Society of Friends to state, that it was
through their persevering instrumentality that this great calamity was
averted.

Among the most noble and venerable of the Seneca Chiefs was

B K .

In his bosom glowed the loftiest patriotism, and on his brow beamed the
purest philanthropy. To him the sorrows of his people were the seeds of
death; they ate into his heart, and drank his life-blood. He mourned over
their desolation and wept over their sins.

“Oh, is there nothing we can do?” said he one morning to Mr. Wright,
the missionary, who remained among them when there was little he
could do but encourage them to resist unto the end, and pray that their
strength might not fail and who stood by them, ready for any [253]service,
in the darkest hours of their adversity. “Is there nothing more we can do?
Yes, let us continue to petition,” was the answer, and an offer to write
whatever he would say.

The result was a remonstrance, which in his own language was pathetic
and touching in the extreme. On listening to it, I asked if in the
translation it was not embellished; and the reply was, that no translation
could do justice to the original. I can make only a few extracts.
“First, as a people, without exception, we love the land of our birth, the
place of our fathers’ graves; and could we be permitted to retain
undisturbed possession of the gifts of God to our people, not one of us
would entertain a thought of emigration. We are satisfied with our
country, we neither ask nor seek a better one.

“But we are told we can never live in peace here; that the land of the
Indians’ peace is far towards the setting sun. Let us lay open our hearts
to your honorable body. We are troubled. Why should it be said that we
can have no peace here? The age, wisdom, and dignity of a great nation
are yours. You can resolve our doubts for us. The United States have
land enough. You have abundant means of communication. In all your
wide country, your steamboats, rail cars, and carriages can bear your
people whithersoever they wish to go. Neither have you any lack of
wealth, that your people should wish to become rich at our expense.
Neither have we given you any ground of complaint against us.

“We have fought by the side of one of your greatest generals. He still
lives to bear testimony to our fidelity. Yes, the blood of our chiefs was
shed on the battle-field for what you then told us was our common
country. It was mingled with the blood of your enemies slain by our
[254]hands, and that too at your solicitation, at a time when you said you
stood in need of our aid. Why then can we have no peace in a land whose
peace we helped to buy at such a price?

“It is true we are now few and weak; you are numerous and mighty, but
you are also magnanimous. The great hearts which beat in the bosoms of
your chiefs and head men, would not let them oppress the remnant of any
nation almost wasted from the earth, much less the remnant of friends
who once fought and bled for them.

“It is true, indeed, we are almost wasted away. The smallest of your ten
thousand towns has in it more people than our whole nation. And can it
then be any satisfaction to the United States to set their foot upon the
neck of an old man, even now tottering into his grave? We cannot
understand these things. We wish, if we must all go into the grave, and
perish from the earth, to lie together in the same dust with our
forefathers. The strange, unhallowed earth of other lands will press
heavily upon our bosoms. It will be cold—we cannot sleep in such
graves.

“We cannot flourish there if our hearts are not there—if we go against
our will—if we are driven forth heart-broken and dispirited. No: men
will starve and perish in the most luxuriant soil on earth if compelled to
take possession of it under such circumstances. We must go contentedly
—we must go cheerfully, in order to be benefited by the kind offers of
the government; and, above all, we must go unitedly. The bands which
held us together have been torn. Now, the flames of strife burn high
between friends and brethren. If you push us off hastily together, we
shall only go to devour each other till we are consumed. And even if we
should not absolutely destroy each other, we could not flourish. The oak
riven by the thunderbolt will not grow again. A kind, gentle [255]hand
might transplant sprout after sprout, and raise up perhaps a forest there.
But after the lightning’s shock, neither root nor branch retains the power
of germinating. What harm can our remaining do you? What is the use of
a few thousand acres of land to a nation like the United States? But an
honorable name—the love and friendship of those whom God has placed
under your care, and, above all, ,
will be of great importance.

“Thus we have laid open our hearts to you. Our warriors, and our women
and children will take their own way to make known their concurrence.
We hope you will attentively consider what we have said. We have
trespassed long upon your patience, but with and ,—our
fathers’ graves, and the honor of the United States at stake, we could not
have said less. May the Great Being who controls the counsels and
destinies of nations guide you to a right decision.”

Big Kettle furnished another gratifying instance that an Indian could

resist temptation, and maintain his integrity through the darkest hours of
adversity and the most aggravating wrongs. There are many among his
own people and among white men, who knew him, who pronounce him a
greater man than Red Jacket. He lived to a later day, and felt more
keenly, if this were possible, the woes which seemed to fall thicker and
faster upon the Indian as years wore on. His head was always clear, for
not a drop of the fire-water ever touched his lips. There was a more
softened dignity in his deportment and more affability in his manners
than was experienced in intercourse with Red Jacket. He had finer
sensibilities, and though there is a vein of sarcasm often in his speeches,
it was not so bitter as that which ran through almost every thing Red
Jacket said. He remained [256]a Pagan to the day of his death, though he
seemed to lose some of his interest in Pagan ceremonies. He endeavored
earnestly to elevate his people, and promote a true spirit of morality. A
distinguished statesman and infidel who proposed establishing a school
for propagating infidelity, once fell into company with Big Kettle, and
attempted to convince him that there was no God, and to prejudice him
against the missionaries, and excite him to bitter enmity against religion;
but the Indian’s trust in the Great Spirit was not moved, and though he
did not understand the Christian’s God, his sagacious mind quickly
discovered the fallacy of the atheist’s arguments, and he was thoroughly
disgusted with his coarse manners and conversation, and the want of
principle which was manifest in his motives.

He said he was led to abjure the fire-water by witnessing the evil

influence of it upon his father, and the misery it introduced into their
otherwise happy family.

He literally died of a broken heart. There were some among the chiefs
who were in favor of the treaty, and one day in the council house, strife
arose to such a height, and discussion became so warm, that tomahawks
were unsheathed, and there was danger of something more terrible than a
war of words. I have seen the one which gleamed in Big Kettle’s hand on
that occasion, but it was allowed to do no harm, and it was this that
grieved the patriotic old man more than any thing else, to see Iroquois at
enmity with one another. It was not so in the days of old. Oh, how
changed! The Indians were once all brethren; but now they were divided.
To see them wasted was not so sad as to see them broken and degenerate.
He mourned and would not be comforted, and like Logan went away into
the forest, and shut himself in a lonely cabin to die. [257]

The missionary learned his retreat and visited him, trying to speak
comfort to his spirit, but in vain. He tried also to lead him to the
Christian’s God, and explain to him the Christian’s faith. But this too
was vain. He said the Great Spirit had not seen fit to give the Indian the
good book which white people talked about, and he would not therefore
punish him for not knowing what it contained. “Big Kettle,” said he,
“has never done wrong to his fellow man. Big Kettle has never taken
what belonged to another—has never told a lie. The Great Spirit knows
Big Kettle loves him, and he will take him to the good place when he
dies.” So, firm in his trust in the Indian’s God, he departed in the year
1839, without a single fear of death, or unwillingness to go, and to the
Great Spirit we will leave him. “He alone is judge.”

S G , S F .

“B :—The sons of my beloved brother Onas. 1 When I was young

and strong, our country was full of game which the Good Spirit sent for
us to live upon; the lands which belonged to us were extended far
beyond where we hunted; I and the people of my nation, had enough to
eat, and always something to give our friends, when they entered our
cabins, and we rejoiced when they received it from us; hunting was then
not tiresome—it was a diversion—it was a pleasure.

“B :—When your fathers asked land of my nation, we gave it to

them, for we had more than enough. Gayashuta was among the first of
the people to say, ‘give [258]land to our brother Onas, for he wants it, and
he has always been a friend to Onas and his children.’

“B :—Your fathers saw Gayashuta when he was young; when he

had not even thought of old age or weakness; but you are too far off to
see him now he has grown old. He is very old and feeble, and he
wonders at his own shadow—it becomes so little.
“He has no children to take care of him, and the game is driven away by
the white people, so that the young men must hunt all day to find game
for themselves to eat; they have left nothing for Gayashuta. And it is not
Gayashuta only, who is becoming old and feeble—there yet remains
about thirty of your old friends, who, unable to provide for themselves,
or to help one another, have become poor, and are hungry and naked.

“B !—Gayashuta sends you a belt, which he received long ago

from your fathers, and a writing which he received but as yesterday from
one of you. By these you will remember him, and the old friends of your
fathers in this nation; look on this belt and this writing, and, if you
remember the old friends of your fathers, consider their former
friendship and their present distress; and, if the Good Spirit shall put it
into your hearts to comfort them in their old age, do not disregard his
counsel. We are men; and therefore need only tell you that we are old,
and feeble, and hungry, and naked; and that we have no other friends but
you,—the children of our beloved brother Onas.”

There have been attempts to prove that the Friends, as well as others,
were guilty of injustice, fraud, and deception towards the Indians, but I
can nowhere find these charges substantiated; and it is sufficiently
convincing to any unprejudiced mind, that the universal impression
among the red men would not be that the Friends [259]were different from
other white people, if they had not seen it demonstrated. Whether at the
North or the South, the East or the West, the impression of the Indian
concerning the pale-faces is the same. The Pequod and the Cherokee, the
Seminole and the Dacotah, experience the same treatment, and utter the
same sentiment.

The speech of Black Hawk, when, after a long and desperate conflict, he
was taken and imprisoned, is the lamentation of all.

“The Sun rose dim on us in the morning, and at night sank in a dark
cloud, and looked like a ball of fire. That was the last sun that shone on
Black Hawk. His heart is dead, and no longer beats quick in his bosom.
He is now prisoner to the white man; they will do with him as they wish.
But he can stand torture, and is not afraid of death. He is no coward.
Black Hawk is an Indian. He has done nothing for which an Indian ought
to be ashamed. He has fought for his countrymen, the squaws, and
pappooses, against white men, who came year after year to cheat them,
and take away their lands. You know the cause of their making war. It is
known to all white men. They ought to be ashamed of it. The white men
despise the Indians, and drive them from their homes. But the Indians are
not deceitful. The white men speak bad of the Indian, and look at him
spitefully. But the Indians do not tell lies; Indians do not steal.

“An Indian who is as bad as a white man could not live in our nation; he
would be put to death, and eaten up by wolves. The white men are bad
schoolmasters; they carry false looks, and deal in false actions; they
smile in the face of the poor Indian, to cheat him; they shake him by the
hand, to gain his confidence, to make him drunk, and ruin his wife. We
told them to let us alone, and keep away from us; but they followed on,
and [260]beset our paths, and they coiled themselves among us like the
snake. They poisoned us by their touch. We are not safe, we lived in
danger. We were becoming like them—hypocrites and liars, adulterers,
and lazy drones.

“There were no deer in the forest; the opossum and the beaver were fled;
the springs were drying up, and our squaws and pappooses without food.
The Spirit of our Fathers awoke, and spoke to us to avenge our wrongs
or die. We all spoke before the council fire. It was warm and pleasant;
we set up the warwhoop, and dug up the tomahawk; our knives were
ready, and the heart of Black Hawk swelled high in his bosom when he
led his warriors to battle. He is satisfied. He will go to the world of
spirits contented.

“Black Hawk is a true Indian. He feels for his wife, his children, and
friends. But he does not care for himself. He cares for the nation and the
Indians. They will suffer. He laments their fate. The white men do not
scalp the head; but they do worse,—they poison the heart; it is not pure
with them. His countrymen will not be scalped; but they will in a few
years become like white men, so that you cannot trust them; and there
must be, as in the white settlements, nearly as many officers as men, to
take care of them, and keep them in order.

“Farewell my nation! Black Hawk tried to save you, and avenge your
wrongs. He has been taken prisoner, and can do no more. His sun is
setting, and will rise no more. Farewell to Black Hawk!”

I have not any where made extracts from the bloody records of war, or
related instances of Indian barbarity; but if I had, they would have
formed a pleasing picture for the mind to dwell upon, compared with the
history of the controversy which was waged between a simple, trustful
[261]band of Indians, and the thieves and robbers who invaded them with
weapons more deadly than tomahawks and scalping-knives—weapons
which they could not see, and therefore could not repel. I have given but
a glimpse of the long struggle; but I will not dwell upon it longer, for, as
far as the Iroquois are concerned, it is ended, we trust, though there is
still an effort, and, perhaps, a hope, to weary out the Indians, and thus
gain their possessions. But it is futile; they will not part with them but
with their blood.

As far as most of them are concerned, those days of clouds and thick
darkness have passed away, and with them should vanish the prejudice
and mutual distrust to which they gave rise.

Now, the Indians on all these lands are tillers of the soil, and you may
ride miles in every direction, and see their fruitful fields and comfortable
dwellings, indicating an industrious and an eminently peaceful and
happy people. And if you come into this little church, you will see that
they are also a Christian people. At first you might smile at the
peculiarities in the dress of the women, for they persist, and very
properly, I think, in not adopting the dress which we call civilized, but
which better deserves the name of barbarous. No screws or lacings mar
their forms, and their outer dress is still short and very loose. The elder
women sit with uncovered heads, their long black hair tied in braids with
gay ribbons down their necks. The younger women have quite
universally adopted the gypsy hat with gay streamers, and all wear
shawls, generally very tasteful and handsome. This costume, with the
rich brown tint of their soft skins, gives them a picturesque and pleasing
appearance.

They have large portions of the Bible, a hymn-book, and several school-
books in their native tongue, and rich [262]music it is when they all stand
up and sing “with the spirit and the understanding,” good old-fashioned
tunes in their own rich and peculiarly expressive language. There are
aged men and manly youths, matrons, maidens, and tiny babies; and all,
not excepting the little ones, are very respectful and serious in their
deportment.

The sermon to-day is by one of their own people, a chief, and though it is
Greek to me, as far as edification is concerned, I listen more attentively
than I do sometimes to what I can understand, for there is something
very fascinating in the language and in the speaker. He is not a minister,
but occupies the pulpit to-day, because both the missionaries are absent
to attend an annual meeting at a distant place; but he is superintendent of
the Sabbath-school, and though he comes six miles, has been absent but
twice I believe in three years. Many who are present have been in the
habit of walking eight or nine miles, men, women, and children, and are
as sure to be present as the Sabbath bell is to ring.

Here the Indian is the Indian still, and among the youths and maidens of
the present generation, there are some noble specimens of this still noble
race; and the intermingling of Saxon blood, wherever it has taken place,
has caused no deterioration.

As my book is written with the hope of disseminating the truth, and thus
removing prejudice, I will give an instance of the prejudice which exists,
and doubt not the same incident would have occurred in any city where
the trial had been made.

The first Sabbath I attended church, I noticed by my side a fine-looking

woman, with the richest tint of clear Mingoe blood upon her cheeks, and
her raven hair in soft flowing masses, curving upon her temples, and
twined in classic braids behind. Tall and portly in figure, and
[263]dignified in deportment, she particularly attracted my attention, and
the sweet and intelligent expression of her face told that she was no
common woman.

I asked who she was; and learned that she was the step-daughter of their
most distinguished chief, Red Jacket, and one of whom he was
particularly fond. She was a child when he was an old man, and sat on
his knee, and stroked his withered cheek and kissed his brow, and
received his most affectionate caresses. Her mother was the second wife
of the great orator, and the faithful friend of the missionaries, and a
consistent member of the little mission church during all the latter years
of her life. The daughter, therefore, has had a Christian education, and is
a thoroughly sensible and very interesting woman. But while I listened to
this answer and made these remarks, I also listened to a story which
made me blush for my people.

A few years ago, when the American Board held their annual meeting in
an eastern city, the wife of the missionary, Mrs. Wright, was requested to
bring one of the Indian women who could speak English, and was also
familiar with her native language, that many more might be interested in
their labors by witnessing the fruits. This was the woman she selected to
accompany her. There was of course a great crowd of people, and hotels
and boarding-houses were more than full. The one where they took up
their abode, had the table surrounded with what are termed, in
fashionable parlance, genteel people, and here the missionaries and the
chieftain’s daughter of a proud race took their place, as worthy to occupy
the same position and receive the same politeness. What was their
surprise, to see upon the countenances of those who sat opposite them,
indignation and conscious insult, that a lady of a different people, and
with a darker hue, [264]should be permitted to dine with them as an equal!
No notice was taken of their contemptuous looks and gestures, but what
was the surprise of the offending party to find at the next meal that the
table was vacated—they were left alone. The hostess then explained the
cause of offence, and requested that the squaw might take her place at
the second table, as they should lose their boarders if she did not. The
missionaries answered, that if she sat at the second table they must also;
and to this proposition she, without blushing, acceded; and during the
remainder of the time, the vulgar gentility of the establishment were not
troubled by the presence of two dignified, lady-like, Christian women, as
far above their comprehension as the heavens are above the earth. They
ate and drank without danger of contamination! It is one of the
peculiarities of the Indians never to betray emotion unseasonably, and
though it was evident that Mrs. L. understood the designed humiliation,
she never by word or look made it manifest. It is also characteristic of
them, that when introduced into society, where the customs are different
from theirs and entirely new, they manifest no embarrassment or
ignorance, but conform with wonderful tact; and while seeming to be
indifferent, really observe minutely, and afterward relate every thing that
passes.

How the disgraceful and utterly uncivilized conduct of these few who
represent a large portion of what is called civilized society, was
portrayed by this injured woman to her own people, I know not. I only
know that she bore the insult with Christian meekness. She is the woman
of whose girlhood I have spoken in the life of Red Jacket, and had he
lived his fondest wishes concerning her would have been realized. She
grew up to be a woman of whom he might well have been proud. Her
husband is the grandson of a British officer, who loved an [265]Indian
maiden, and took her to be his wife. When his term of service expired he
returned to England, but not without using every persuasion to induce his
dusky bride to accompany him. She would not consent to go, fearing she
might not be recognized as wife when so far away, and claimed the right,
which was most reluctantly granted, of retaining their little son. For
many years his father annually remembered him, and sent gold and
magnificent presents to testify his love, but at length they ceased, and
nothing more was ever heard concerning him. As there were no
surnames among the Indians, the child was not called by his father’s
name, and it soon became lost to all who ever knew him this side the
water. If my Indian friends have any cousins among the lords or nobles
of England, they might not care to have me supply the links which would
bring them to the knowledge of each other; but I can assure them that the
blood of the daughter of an Iroquois Chief has not degraded that of any
Peer of the Realm. [266]

O is the Indian word for quill, and by this name they always spoke of William Penn. ↑
1
[Contents]
CHAPTER XIV.
 THE EDUCATED INDIAN.
The following extracts are taken from speeches made by young educated
Indians, who are still living and laboring among their people. The first
was made before the Historical Society of New York, in behalf of the
little company of Cayugas who emigrated beyond the Mississippi, and
were reduced to such extreme suffering that a great proportion of them
died in less than a year. It was proposed to bring back the remainder, and
a speech to excite sympathy and raise funds was made by Dr. Wilson,
who obtained ten thousand dollars for this purpose, five hundred of
which was given by a member of the Society of Friends in Baltimore.

“The honorable gentleman has told you that the Iroquois have no
monuments. Did he not previously prove that the land of Gano-no-o, or
the Empire State as you love to call it, was once laced by our trails from
Albany to Buffalo—trails that we had trod for centuries—trails worn so
deep by the feet of the Iroquois that they became your own roads of
travel as your possessions gradually eat into those of my people? Your
roads still traverse those same lines of communication and bind one part
of the long house to another. The land of Gano-no-o—the Empire State
—then is our monument! and we wish its soil to rest above our bones
when we shall be no more. We shall not long [267]occupy much room in
living; we shall occupy still less when we are gone; a single tree of the
thousands which sheltered our forefathers—one old elm under which the
representatives of the tribes were wont to meet—will cover us all; but we
would have our bodies twined in death among its roots on the very soil
where it grew! Perhaps it will last the longer from being fertilized with
their decay.

“I have been told that the first object of this Society is to preserve the
history of the State of New York. You, all of you know, that alike in its
wars and in its treaties the Iroquois, long before the Revolution, formed a
part of that history; that they were then one in council with you, and
were taught to believe themselves one in interest. In your last war with
England, your red brothers—your elder brothers—still came up to help
you, as of old, on the Canada frontier! Have we, the first holders of this
prosperous region, no longer a share in your history? Glad were your
forefathers to sit down upon the threshold of the ‘Long House’; rich did
they then hold themselves, in getting the mere sweepings from its doors.
Had our forefathers spurned you from it when the French were
thundering at the opposite end, to get a passage through and drive you
into the sea, whatever has been the fate of other Indians, the Iroquois
might still have been a nation; and I—I—instead of pleading here for the
privilege of lingering within your borders—I—I—might have had—a
country!”

This was delivered extemporaneously, and was very long, but only these
few sentences have been preserved, and for these we are indebted to Mr.
Hoffman, who devoted to the author and his subject a long article in the
Literary World the next day.

The following was delivered before an enlightened assembly by Mr.

Maris B. Pierce. [268]

“It has been said, and reiterated so frequently as to have obtained the
familiarity of household words, that it is the doom of the Indian to
disappear—to vanish like the morning dew before the advance of
civilization—before those who belong by nature to a different, and by
education and circumstances to a superior race; and melancholy is it to
us—those doomed ones—that the history of this country, in respect to us,
and its civilization, has furnished so much ground for the saying, and for
giving credence to it.

“But whence and why are we thus doomed? Why must we be crushed by
the arm of civilization, or the requiem of our race be chanted by the
waves of the Pacific, which is destined to ingulf us? Say ye, on whom
the sunlight of civilization has constantly shone—into whose lap Fortune
has poured her brimful horn, so that you are enjoying the highest and
best spiritual and temporal blessings of this world, say, if some being