During my visit to Deadman’s Bay, I had become acquainted with a Scotch gentleman, who was employed on the medical staff of the U.S. army, I believe, as a supernumerary, or candidate for a commission as a surgeon.  He was a most agreeable companion, of good natural parts, fluent in conversation, intelligent in remark, free from egotism, and well educated, I believe, at Cambridge, in England.  We soon became attached to each other.  He accompanied me in my rambles, and we were almost inseparable companions during my stay.  He was one of those beings, in fine, who seem to be sent at times to cheer the darkened highway of existence under gloomy circumstances; and I fondly hoped to enjoy with him a lengthened period of virtuous intimacy, and close, unalloyed friendship, on more propitious soil.

But the decrees of Providence are inscrutable, and “his ways,” indeed, “past finding out.”  This was certainly strikingly exemplified by the catastrophe I am about to relate, which deprived me for ever of my friend.

When at the bay, he expressed a wish to visit St. Marks, Tallahassee, and Apalachicola, and stated his intention, as soon as his engagements permitted, to proceed thither by steamer, if opportunity offered—­or failing this, to go overland, availing himself of some escort which might be proceeding in that direction.  As I felt desirous to have his company, on my route to South Carolina, I arranged to halt at Fort Andrews, as before stated, that he should join me there in a week, and then proceed in company with me to Fort Pleasant, forty miles distant, and thence to Tallahassee.

The time having now come at which I was expecting his arrival, I was one morning anxiously looking out through the long vista of pine trees and barrens, when I descried in the distance two horsemen approaching at their greatest speed; I at first imagined them to be, as they indeed proved, an advanced party of my friend’s escort—­but, on their coming up, I could see, from the agitation they were in, and the foaming state of their horses, which were quite white and in a dreadfully exhausted state, that something alarming had happened.

The tale was soon told:—­It appeared, that about midway between the two settlements, or stations, a party of Indians in ambush had fired upon the party, and my friend had been treacherously murdered.  I was much affected by this intelligence, and, after some consultation with a gentleman there, determined to get up a pretty strong party, and proceed to the scene of the murder, to collect the remains of my poor friend, whose bones would otherwise be left, as I had seen others in those regions, to bleach on the sand hills.  We soon started, the party consisting of fourteen men, well armed with rifles, bowie knives, and pistols, accompanied by a waggon, drawn by four stout mules and driven by a negro, to convey back the remains.  The expedition was attended with no little danger, from the proximity of a newly-discovered party of Indians, who were committing dreadful ravages in the district—­but whether in large or small force, was uncertain; they were, probably, the party I have before adverted to, lingering about the vicinity.