was discovered that the untamable nature of the red man made him an
unprofitable and a dangerous servant. These Indian slaves fled into
the wilderness, which is now the State of Georgia, pushing their way
even to the peninsula of Florida, and were followed, in their flight
and to their asylum, by many of their black companions in bondage. For
near seventy-five years this little nation lived happy and contented,
till the State of Georgia commenced the series of piratical incursions
into their country, then a Spanish dependency, from which they were
never afterwards free; the nation at last taking up the slaveholders'
quarrel and prosecuting it to the bitter and bloody end.

This whole story is told, and well told, by Mr. Giddings. And a most
touching picture it is. First, the original evasion of the slaves into
that peninsular wilderness, which they reclaimed as far as the supply
of their simple wants demanded. They planted, they hunted, they
multiplied their cattle, they intermarried with their Indian friends
and allies, their children and their children's children grew up
around them, knowing of slavery only by traditionary legend. The
original founders of the tribe passed away, and their sons and
grandsons possessed their corn-fields and their hunting-grounds in
peace. For many years no fears disturbed their security. Under the
Spanish rule they were safe and happy. Then comes the gradual
gathering of the cloud on the edges of their wilderness, its first
fitful and irregular flashes, till it closes over their heads and
bursts upon them in universal ruin and devastation. Their heroic
resistance to the invasion of the United States troops follows,
sublime from its very desperation. A more unequal contest was never
fought. On one side one of the mightiest powers on earth, with endless
stores of men and money at its beck,--and on the other a handful of
outcasts fighting for their homes, and the liberties, in no