custom of Indians when in danger), expecting to be instantly shot.  He had, however, nothing to fear, having fallen in with friends and not foes.  As I saw he was without a rifle, I dashed forward and accosted him first.  He was soon assured, by my manner of addressing him, and begged earnestly that we would not detain or hurt him.  This I at once promised, if he would inform us whether Indians were near.  He said no, they had left that country two suns (days) ago, taking an easterly direction, and we might proceed to Fort Andrews in safety.

After putting several other questions to him, I inquired if the Indians would cross our path to Tallahassee from that post.  He said no, they were far off in another direction, having gone to East Florida, eighty miles distant.  The fellow was in poor case, and begged for food, saying he was starving.  I, therefore, desired the men to supply him with some dried venison and bread, which he ate with avidity.  He refused to tell me his master’s name, but said there were hundreds of negroes fighting with the Indians, six from the same plantation as himself.  My companions were at first intent upon securing him, but being averse to that course, I dared them to do it; when, seeing I was fully determined on this point, they did not insist.  Pointing to the hammock, after giving him a dram of brandy, I bid him be off, when he darted like a deer into the thicket, and disappeared from our view, with a loud shout of exultation.

About ten miles further on, as we passed the edge of a dense hammock, we heard the bay of an Indian dog, and fearing the proximity of a party of marauders, we were instantly on the alert.  The dog did not, however, come out of the wood, and we rode from the dangerous vicinity with all dispatch.  Arrived again at Fort Andrews, without any further adventure worth recording, we found a party of volunteers about to proceed to Fort Pleasant, in the direction we were going.  After recruiting my now almost exhausted strength by a refreshing sleep, I went down to their encampment, by the river’s edge.  They had the day before encountered a strong party of Indians, whom they repulsed with loss.  Some of the party showed me several bloody scalps of warriors they had killed.  I could not help remarking the beauty of the hair, which was raven-black, and shone with a beautiful gloss.  They had several captured Indian women with them, and half-a-dozen children; the former were absorbed in grief, and one in particular, whose young husband had been shot in the fray, and whose scalp was one of those I have just mentioned, was quite overwhelmed.  The children, little conscious of the misery of their parents, swam about and dived in the river like amphitrites; they each carried a small bow and quiver of arrows.  There is no doubt the Indians these volunteers had fallen in with and routed, were the identical party referred to by the negro we had met some forty-eight hours before.