The great cavalry leader, General Sheridan, once said that the only good Indian was a dead one. It is unfortunate that the amicable relations of William Penn and the Indians could not have been more lasting and more widespread. Often the latter, with their savage instincts, were to blame for the feeling of hatred existing. But, on the other hand, many a red man has set a noble example to those who oppressed him. Such an Indian was Attakullakulla, a name so hard to pronounce, that we shall use the one by which he was known among the whites. This is Little Carpenter, who was a Cherokee chief, born early in the eighteenth century. Like White Eyes, of whom we have told, he was always opposed by a war party, at whose head was Occonostota, or the Great Warrior.

The Cherokees made a treaty with the English in 1730, and were their friends for a quarter of a century. Then on the eve of the great struggle between England and France for the ownership of America, French agents succeeded in causing a division of feeling among the Cherokees. English messengers strove to win them to their side, and a grand council was called by the tribe to decide what they should do.

Everything was going in favor of the English, when the council was thrown into wild rage by the news that a party of their tribe which had visited the French on the Ohio, had been massacred by Virginians, while on their way back. So fierce was the anger of the Cherokee members of the council that they would have killed every English agent present, but for Little Carpenter, who managed to save them with great difficulty after an exciting harangue.

The Cherokees had given much help to the English expedition against Fort Du Quesne, but on their return, when the worn horses gave out, they left some of them by the way-side on the frontiers of Virginia, and took others that belonged to the people whose homes they were passing. This brought an attack upon them, in which two-score warriors were shot down. This crime was partly due to the fact that, after Braddock's massacre, Virginia offered a bounty for Indian scalps. Thus the white men where impelled by two powerful motives,—indignation over the theft of their property, and an avarice that did not stop at the call of mercy. It proved to be the sowing of the wind and the reaping of the whirlwind.

Little Carpenter would not have been an Indian had not his soul been stirred by this fearful crime. After he had warned the agents of their danger and safely hidden them, he turned to his warriors, his whole frame shaking with anger:

"Let us make war at once," he said, "and never bury the hatchet till our countrymen have been avenged. We cannot violate our faith or the laws of hospitality by staining our hands with the blood of those now in our power. They came to us as brothers, and have no blame for what evil men have done. Let them carry back the belts of wampum and then let us take up the hatchet and not rest till all these murderers have been destroyed."

The man hated above all others by Great Warrior and the Cherokees was Captain Coitmore.

He was the commandant at Fort George, had placed the ironed prisoners in their wretched quarters, and treated them with brutality. The continued confinement of the hostages enraged the Indians who laid siege to Fort George. It did not take Great Warrior long to learn he could make no impression on it, and he gave up his design for another, more subtle one.

He hid a number of his bucks in a dense cane-brake at the river side, and sent a squaw, who was well known at the garrison, to the captain, with a request that he would come to the water where the chief was waiting to tell him important news. Captain Coitmore was rash enough to accept the invitation and went to the place named with two of his officers as companions. He soon saw Great Warrior standing on the other side of the Savannah with a bridle in his hand. This was to give color to his statement that he was going to Charleston to secure the release of the Cherokees held as hostages. As the distance was great, he hoped to be able to obtain a horse.

As he said this, the chief turned about and swung the bridle over his head. The act was the signal to his hidden men, who instantly fired at the three officers. The captain was killed and his companions wounded. The garrison immediately started to put all the hostages in irons, they having been released a short time before. They resisted fiercely, killing one of the soldiers and wounding several. The prisoners expected their comrades outside to come to their help, but that was beyond their power, and the troops completed their crime by putting every one of the imprisoned hostages remorselessly to death.

By a strange fatality the victims were related to nearly all the principal families among the Cherokees, who were driven to a frenzy against the whites. Great Warrior became as determined in his hostility as was ever Pontiac or Philip, while Little Carpenter, as grieved and angry as he, still saw that a war would only add to the sufferings of his people. He strove to keep them from taking the war path, but it was in vain. He stood almost alone. The scenes that followed were such as have spread woe and desolation times without number along the frontier.

The truth was driven home at last upon the Cherokees that only one way of escaping destruction was left to them: that was to make peace with the whites on the best terms they could get. When the force reached Fort George, twenty chiefs begged a meeting with the colonel. The proud Great Warrior was not with them, for he would have died before asking mercy of the invaders, but Little Carpenter was at the head of the party. He was known to the commandant who received him and his companions with fitting honors, and accepted the statement that he spoke for his whole people. Addressing the officer, Little Carpenter said:

"You live at the water side and are in light. We are in darkness, but hope that all will yet be clear. I have been going about all the time doing good, and though I am tired, yet I come to see what can be done for my people who are in great distress."

At this point the chief handed over the belts of wampum which he had brought from the different towns as prayers for peace. "As to what has happened," continued Little Carpenter, "I believe it has been ordered by our Father above. We are of a different color from the white people. They are superior to us. But one God is father of us all, and we hope what is past will be forgotten. God made all people. There is not a day that some are not coming into and others going out of the world. The Great King told me the path should never be crocked, but open for every one to pass and repass. As we all live in one land, I hope we shall all love as one people."

Anxious as the Cherokees were for peace, and strongly as Little Carpenter had striven from the first to bring it about, it must not be thought that he was lacking in personal or moral courage. None but the bravest of men would have dared to withstand the terrible Great Warrior and the large majority of his tribe, as this chief did again and again. So at the present time, when the English leader of the expedition stated terms on which he would give peace to the Indians, Little Carpenter rejected one condition: that was the surrender of four Cherokees, specially noted for their cruelties, and their execution in front of the camp.

The chief closed his lips and shook his head. The colonel persisted. It was the only condition over which there was any hitch.

"I will insist," continued the officer; "take a day to think it over; you and all your people have asked for peace; these four men deserve death, and you ought not to let a little matter like that stand in the way."

On the day following, the colonel asked Little Carpenter for his decision.

"I gave it yesterday," he replied.

The officer was vexed at what he considered the stubbornness of the chief, and refused to yield to him. The most to which he could consent was that Little Carpenter should make the long journey to Charleston and lay the matter before the governor. Little Carpenter traveled the hundreds of miles through wilderness and solitudes, and explained his errand to the governor.

By this time, South Carolina had an executive of sense. He knew all about Little Carpenter. He considered him the finest type of his race, whose conduct from the first was highly honorable. He had never been known to ask an unreasonable thing, and the governor no sooner understood what he wished, than he assured him it should be granted.

Then Little Carpenter made another request:

"We wish that Captain John Stewart shall be made Indian agent in our nation. All the Indians love him and none of us will ever feel uneasiness while he is with us."

"It shall be as you wish," replied the governor, and the pleased chief, having obtained all, and indeed more than he expected to obtain, arose to set out on the long journey homeward through the wilds.