gave us the best cheer to be had in the New World. We discreetly insinuated our wish to know to whom we were indebted for so kind a reception.
"I am," said he, "of the race you call savages. I was born on the Blue Mountains, which bound this country in the west. In my childhood I was bitten by a rattlesnake, and abandoned. I was on the point of death. The father of the present Lord Baltimore, falling in with me, confided me to his physician, and to him I owe my life. I soon discharged the debt, for I have saved his in a skirmish with the neighboring tribes. He gave me, in return, this habitation."
Mr. Freind inquired if he was of Lord Baltimore's religion?
"How," said he, "would you have me profess another man's religion? I have my own."
This short and energetic answer made us reflect a little.
"You have, then," said I, "your own law and your own God?"
"Yes," he replied, with an assurance wholly free from pride. "My God is there," and he pointed to heaven. "My law is here," and he put his hand on his breast.
My friend was struck with admiration, and, press- ing my hand, he said:
"This simple nature reasons more wisely than all the bachelors with whom we conversed at Barcelona."
