Each must avenge the killing of the other, and the lodge of an Indian is always open for a clansman of whatever tribe.
The Indian is by no means averse to adopting people of other races as members of the tribe. On one of the visits of Father de Smet to a tribe, a prominent Indian offered his services as interpreter. The missionary expressed his surprise that the man could speak English so well, and on asking where he had learned it he received for reply, "I learned it in th' auld counthry, yer Riverence." The Indian happened to be an Irishman who had taken up his abode among the Indians, married a squaw, and, to all intents and purposes, become one of the tribe.
Hospitality is one of the Indian's virtues, and there are quite a few instances to prove this in the colonization period and after. F. B. Head, an English writer, says that "wherever he has been unruffled by injustice, his reception of his white brother is an affecting example of that genuine hospitality which is to be met with only in what we term savage tribes." If his object in visiting the Indian country be unsuspected, the stranger's life and property are perfectly secure. There are, however, various opinions regarding the honesty of the Indians. It is highly lauded by some writers, while, according to others, it is greatly circumscribed. Colonel Dodge says that they are very honest with regard to their own band, but of great thieving propensities where outsiders are concerned. It is quite possible that in honesty, as in morality, tribe may differ from tribe, and thus the varying experiences of writers may have produced contradictory assertions.
To return to the subject of the Indian's hospitality, it must be remarked that, as he gives hospitality, he also expects it to be given him. He makes himself perfectly at home, without any invitation—for instance, in the house of a missionary—if he is permitted to have his way. A story is told of a lady living in Michigan in pioneer days, who frequently had Indians as visitors. They always had access to her home, and she never locked her door, for fear of wounding their feelings. They would make themselves perfectly at home, and it sometimes happened that she would awake at night to find two or three Indians asleep on the floor. On the other hand, they showed their kindly feelings by keeping her supplied with meat all winter. This recalls to mind a somewhat similar anecdote. On the spot where Wellsville, New York, now stands, in the early part of the nineteenth century, there lived a Mrs. Hill, some of whose descendants are related to the writer. One afternoon, to her consternation, an Indian suddenly entered her cabin and looked around as if seeking something. His eye fell on a rifle hanging against the wall, he pointed to the gun, and with the words, "Me do no harm," unceremoniously took it down and went off with it. Of course she did not venture to try to prevent him.
