the North American continent, abundant opportunities existed for reconsidering and drawing just inferences from the past. The conclusions arrived at then appeared well founded, if judged from the light of the experiences through which I had passed; but a subsequent career, under unusually favorable circumstances, gave me to comprehend how much my early judgment had erred. I had seen but the outside—had witnessed but the husk; the interior—the kernel of the nut—still remained untasted and unknown. I had nattered myself with having achieved a fair knowledge of Indian character. I believe my personal observations had been sufficient to instruct me on that subject. Former travels through South America, from Buenos Ayres to Valparaiso—when I was a sort of captive among the Pategonian Indians for seven months—seemed to justify me in thinking I had made a correct analysis of Indian traits. But I was much in error. Sufficient credit had not been given to their mental powers, their ability to calculate chances, to estimate and foresee the plans of others, to take precautions, to manœuvre with skill, to insure concert of action by a recognized code of signals, to convey information to succeeding parties of the route, numbers and designs of those who preceded, and to bring together formidable bodies from distant points without the aid of messengers. Much, very much, was yet to be learned.
A boy of twenty years is very apt to credit himself with having acquired a very satisfactory idea of human nature, and no amount of instruction and advice from his elders will induce him to change his views until a fuller experience makes him realize the fact that when he thought himself master of the situation, he was in reality only entering upon its rudimental knowledge. Of all people, Americans seem less inclined to receive
