“ON BOOKS ABOUT RED MEN” opens with a tone of warm nos­tal­gia, where a gen­tle­man writes to a young school­boy, Dick, about his own youth­ful fas­ci­na­tion with sto­ries of Native Amer­i­can life. The writer recalls days spent pre­tend­ing to be an “Indi­an,” try­ing and fail­ing to make a tom­a­hawk or mim­ic Hiawatha’s rit­u­als. He shares that the sto­ries weren’t just imag­i­na­tive fuel but sources of great enthusiasm—so much so that he once stuffed a peace pipe with tea leaves and prompt­ly sick­ened him­self. What start­ed as child’s play soon turned into a deep­er inter­est in the cul­ture and endurance of Indige­nous tribes. These boy­hood antics, while humor­ous, under­score the long-last­ing impres­sion lit­er­a­ture can leave when it fuels curios­i­ty and won­der. The author intends for Dick to not only enjoy adven­ture sto­ries but also grasp the seri­ous­ness and real­i­ty embed­ded in them. His let­ter becomes both a read­ing rec­om­men­da­tion and a gen­tle push toward crit­i­cal reflec­tion.

The cen­ter­piece of the let­ter is A Nar­ra­tive of the Cap­tiv­i­ty and Adven­tures of John Tan­ner, which the author rec­om­mends with enthu­si­asm. Tanner’s mem­oir, pub­lished in the ear­ly 19th cen­tu­ry, recounts his abduc­tion by Shawnees as a child and his even­tu­al adop­tion by an Ojib­wa fam­i­ly. At first, Tanner’s treat­ment was harsh, yet over time, he assim­i­lat­ed and rose to promi­nence in his adopt­ed com­mu­ni­ty. His jour­ney is not roman­ti­cized; rather, it’s laced with bru­tal win­ters, near star­va­tion, and emo­tion­al iso­la­tion. Still, what emerges is a por­trait of a man shaped by two worlds, flu­ent in the cus­toms, lan­guage, and beliefs of the Ojib­wa. Tan­ner becomes a kind of cul­tur­al bridge—his life shaped as much by hard­ship as by resilience. The uncle val­ues this tale not only for its adven­ture but for its hon­esty and insight into cul­tur­al trans­for­ma­tion.

What makes Tanner’s account even more grip­ping is its unflinch­ing por­tray­al of the dark­er sides of life among the tribes. Alco­hol, intro­duced by out­siders, becomes a destruc­tive force, and Tan­ner near­ly los­es him­self to it. He suf­fers betray­al, mar­i­tal dis­cord, and spir­i­tu­al dis­tress, cul­mi­nat­ing in a moment so extreme that he per­forms surgery on him­self to remove a bul­let. The writer high­lights this act as a mark of Tan­ner’s fierce inde­pen­dence and unyield­ing will. It is not sim­ply the wilder­ness that tests him but the com­plex­i­ty of his dual iden­ti­ty. Even his loy­al­ty is strained between those who raised him and the soci­ety that once reject­ed him. This dual­i­ty is what makes Tan­ner’s sto­ry compelling—both trag­ic and hero­ic, deeply human and cul­tur­al­ly sig­nif­i­cant.

For young Dick, the author frames these sto­ries not just as enter­tain­ment but as vital lessons. He cau­tions against see­ing Native peo­ples through a lens of pure fan­ta­sy or as mere props for adven­ture. Instead, these tales should be viewed as records of lived expe­ri­ence, full of strug­gle, tri­umph, and nuance. The author hopes Dick sees brav­ery not just in bat­tles but in sur­vival and adap­ta­tion. He encour­ages a respect­ful curiosity—one that val­ues truth as much as imag­i­na­tion. These nar­ra­tives can fos­ter empa­thy and expand one’s view of his­to­ry beyond sim­ple tales of cow­boys and war­riors. In guid­ing Dick toward this per­spec­tive, the writer qui­et­ly shapes him into a read­er who sees sto­ries not just for their excite­ment, but for their mean­ing.

Beneath the engag­ing style lies a sub­tle call for crit­i­cal engage­ment with his­to­ry and lit­er­a­ture. By empha­siz­ing the true nature of Tanner’s hard­ships, the writer invites Dick to look past the roman­ti­cized veneer so often paint­ed over Indige­nous life. In doing so, he acknowl­edges both the allure and the respon­si­bil­i­ty of sto­ry­telling. The sug­ges­tion is not to aban­don won­der but to mar­ry it with under­stand­ing. Through this, the boy’s love of read­ing may become a tool for insight, empa­thy, and aware­ness. And as he grows, the books he reads will con­tin­ue to shape not only his imag­i­na­tion but also his val­ues. This let­ter, rich with affec­tion and thought­ful guid­ance, serves as a gen­tle ini­ti­a­tion into read­ing as both plea­sure and prac­tice.