He seemed unable to talk of any other subject than the number of Indians in Oregon, and the danger we should be in of losing our scalps. Somewhat disgusted with his loquacity I led the way to where the elders were seated and found them also talking upon the estimates of the number of Indians in Oregon; Judge Irwin evidently taking his sister's view of the journey as an unnecessary search for toil and danger. Finally turning to Mr. Morrison, he said, "Well, Wilson, why are you going, anyhow?"
Mr. Morrison, who was naturally slow of speech, hesitated a moment, and then said: "Well, I allow the United States has the best right to that country, and I am going to help make that right good. Then I suppose it is true, as you have been saying, there are a great many Indians there that will have to be civilized, and though I am no missionary, I have no objection to helping in that. Then, I am not satisfied here. There is little we raise that pays shipment to market; a little hemp and a little tobacco. Unless a man keeps niggers (and I won't) he has no even chance; he can not compete with the man that does. There is Dick Owens, my neighbor, he has a few field hands, and a few house niggers. They raise and make all that the family and themselves eat and wear, and some hemp and tobacco besides. If markets are good, Dick will sell; if not, he can hold over, while I am compelled to sell all I can make every year in order to make ends meet. I'm going to Oregon, where there'll be no slaves, and we'll all start even."
It was some time after this (very long speech for Mr. Morrison) before any one ventured to break the silence; and then none in controversy. They all knew that he would live up to his own ideas, come what might. As for me, my heart warmed to the quiet fearlessness of the words. If I now had any definite purpose in being there
