THE SEMINOLE’S UNWRITTEN VERDICT OF THE WHITE RACE.

“Es-ta-had-kee, ho-lo-wa-gus, lox-ee-o-jus”
(White man no good, lie too much.)

In some mysterious way, the Seminole’s conception of the Decalogue neither to lie, nor steal, nor cheat, is the foundation stone upon which he builds his character, principle and honor, for it is taught to the race, from the cradle to the grave, to the swinging papoose on its mother’s shoulders, all through life, till the Great Spirit calls to the Happy Hunting Grounds. Let the reader stop and consider that here is a community of hundreds, living in open palmetto camps. No locks, no doors, no courts, and no officers to keep the law; a people, who for generations have lived, pure in morals, with no thieving, no trespassing, and no profanity (for the Seminole has no oath in his language). With his conception of the Deity, he reverences the name of the Great Spirit, and “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain,” he venerates, as did the Hebrews in the days of Moses. What would be the result if an equal number of the negro race were left under the same conditions for two generations? Nay, what would be the history of six hundred whites forced to live for even twenty-five years like the Seminoles?

With the Seminole’s power to condense into a single phrase, he crystalizes his verdict of the white man into the above forcible expression. In pathetic, but terse language, it tells of generations of wrong treatment at the hands of the white brother; sharp practices and broken treaties, and misrepresentations are all included in the general summing up.

From his oral lexicon, he has chosen these few words, which reveal the throbbing inner soul of these red children of the forests.

No pages, no volumes, no libraries are required to chronicle his experience.

Be it remembered that all history of the relation of the two races has been written by the white historian, but were the Indian to write the story, the other side of the picture would be shown. The complaints of the white man are carried, as it were, on the wings of the wind, while that of the poor Indian is drowned in the tempest.

With a stoicism born of generations of training, the Seminole shows no ill-will, no resentment, and the harshest criticism he ever makes against his white conquerors and victorious brothers is this phrase, “Es-ta-had kee, ho-lo-wag-us, etc.” And whether in vindication of some offense, or given as a simple opinion, his pent-up feelings find expression in this one forcible epithet, and seems to be the missile he hurls at the white man.

The average American with his standard of morals calloused by dealings in the business and social world, smiles at the Seminole’s verdict of his character and with indifferent shrug, jocularly repeats it as being only—the opinion of an Indian.

But, measured by the Indian’s conception of honor, how small we must appear to the Seminole patriot, for, from his unwritten code of ethics, to one who knows the well grounded Indian character, his estimate of white manhood means more than is apparent underneath his calm exterior.