THE ART OF BARTRAM 119 



after this manner: " White man, thou art my enemy, and thou and thy 

 brethren may have killed mine; yet it may not be so, and even were 

 that the case, thou art now alone, and in my power. Live; the Great 

 Spirit forbids me to touch thy life; go to thy brethren, tell them thou 

 sawest an Indian in the forests, who knew how to be humane and com- 

 passionate (pp. 20-21). 



Not ail of his Indian encounters are of this threatening 

 nature, but they are interesting none the less. Trifling as they 

 may turn out to be they are presented in a way which, for the 

 moment, quickens the pulse with anticipation. 



I had not left sight of my encampment, following a winding path 

 through a grove of Live Oak, Laurel (Magn. grandiflora) and Sapindus, 

 before an Indian stepped out of a thicket, and crossed the path just 

 before me, having a large turkey cock, slung across his shoulders, he 

 saw me and stepping up and smiling, spoke to me in English, bidding 

 me good morning. I saluted him with "" It's well brother," led him to 

 my camp, and treated him with a dram (p. 75). 



One other illustration will serve to emphasize the directness 

 with which Bartram relates these encounters: 



I took out of my wallet some biscuit and cheese, and a piece of neat's 

 tongue, composing myself to ease and refreshment; when suddenly 

 appeared within a few yards, advancing towards me from behind the 

 point, a stout likely young Indian fellow, armed with a rifle gun, and 

 two dogs attending, upon sight of me stood, and seemed a little sur- 

 prised, as I was very much ; but instantly recollecting himself and assum- 

 ing a countenance of benignity and cheerfulness, he came briskly to me 

 and shook hands heartily; and smiling enquired from whence I came, 

 and whither going, but speaking only in the Cherokee tongue, our 

 conversation was not continued for a great length (pp. 361-62). 



However, it is in encounters which contain the element of 

 danger that Bartram is at his best. In such cases he builds up, 

 by subtle little touches, an atmosphere of real suspense. The 

 antagonist need not always be an Indian. The limitless savannas 

 and virgin forests are fraught with all sorts of dire possibilities, 

 and one feels in reading Bartram that at any minute something 

 may happen. To cite another example: 



Observed a number of persons coming up a head which I soon per- 

 ceived to be a party of Negroes: I had every reason to dread the con- 

 sequence; for this being a desolate place, I was by this time several 



