heir graves, and the graves of
their fathers. Who-ah-who-allee! the last of the Onchee is coming,
prepare--his bow is broken, his arrows are all gone. Who-ah-who-allee!"
Concluding his song with one shrill whoop, he dropped his head and
lifted up his hands--then prone upon the earth he threw himself,
kissed it, rose up, and seemed prepared for the fate he surely
expected.

Nehemathla spoke English fluently, and all his conversation was in
that language. He was informed that there was no intention of taking
his life, but that he would be kept a close prisoner, until his people
could be conquered and collected--when they would be sent to join
their brethren, who had gone with the Cussetas and Cowetas and Broken
Arrows, beyond the Great River of the West. Tamely and sullenly he
submitted to his confinement, until the period approached, when all
were collected and in detachments forwarded to their future homes.

It was my fortune to be in New Orleans when the old chief and his
little band arrived at that place. It was winter, and the day of their
debarkation was cold and rainy. The steamer chartered to take them to
Fort Smith, upon the Arkansas, from some cause did not arrive at the
levee at the time appointed for their leaving, and they, with their
women and children, were exposed upon the levee to all the
inclemencies of rain and cold, through a protracted winter night. Many
propositions were made to give them shelter, which were rejected. One
warm-hearted, noble spirit, James D. Fresett, the proprietor of an
extensive cotton-press, went in person to the aged chief, and implored
him to take his people to shelter there. He declined, and when the
importunity was again pressed upon him, impatient of persuasion, he
turned abruptly to his tormentor and sternly said:

"I am the enemy of the white man. I ask, and will accept, nothing at
his hands. Me and my people are children of the woods. The Great
Spirit gave them to us, and He gave us the power to endure the cold
and the rain. The clouds above are His, and they are shelter and
warmth enough for us. He will not deceive and rob us. The white man is
faithless; with two tongues he speaks: like the snake, he shows these
before he bites. Never again shall the white man's house open for me,
or the white man's roof shelter me. I have lived his enemy, and his
enemy I will die." The grunt of approval came from all the tribe,
while many rough and stalwart men stood in mute admiratio