During my absence in New York city, Lewis and his confederates were prophesying that I would never trouble them more, and shaking their heads quite ominously at the happy riddance.  One day, our hired man entered the house and inquired of my wife, when I was expected home.  She told him she did not know, having received no intelligence from me.  He assured her that a letter had been received by some one in the colony; that he had seen it, and had heard Mr. Lewis speak of conveying it to her,—­but as it did not come, she gave it up, supposing some mistake had been made.  I had, however, written, naming the time when she might expect me; but no letter of mine reached her, during my long absence, for which she could not account.  A short time before that specified for my return, a woman, whose husband was an associate of Mr. Lewis, came to my house, and urged my wife “to leave word at the village of London, to have Mr. Steward detained there, should he arrive toward evening, and by no means allow him to start for the colony after dark.”  My family had so often been alarmed by such warnings, and had so frequently been annoyed by the violent threatenings of Lewis, that they ceased to regard them, and paid little attention, to this one.

I arrived at London on the day I had appointed for my return, but was detained there until a late hour; feeling anxious, however, to get home that night, supposing that I was expected,—­I therefore hired a horse to ride the remaining fifteen miles to the settlement.

The road from London to Wilberforce led through a swamp, known as “McConnell’s Dismal Swamp,” and it was indeed, one of the most dreary places in all that section of country.  I am certain that a hundred men might conceal themselves within a rod of the highway, without being discovered.

The horse I had engaged, was a high spirited animal, and to that fact, I doubtless owe my life.  The moon shone brightly, and nothing broke the stillness of the night, as I rode onward, but the clatter of my horse’s hoofs, and an occasional “bow-wow” of some faithful watch-dog.

When I reached the swamp and entered its darkened recesses, the gloom and stillness was indeed fearful; my horse started at every rustling leaf or crackling brush, until I attempted to pass a dense thicket, when I was started by the sharp crack of a rifle, and a bullet whizzed past me, close to my ear!  The frightened horse reared and plunged, and then springing as if for life, he shot off like an arrow, amid the explosion of fire arms discharged at me as I rode away.  I lost my balance at first, and came near falling, but recovering it I grasped the rein tightly, while my fiery steed flew over the ground with lightning speed; nor did I succeed in controlling him until he had run two miles, which brought me to my own door.

I found my family well, and very grateful that I had arrived safely after so fearful an encounter.

When morning came I sent a person out to inquire whether any of the settlers were out the night previous, and the report was, “Israel Lewis and two other men were out all night; that they had been seen near the Dismal Swamp;” moreover, Lewis was seen to come in that morning with his boots covered with swamp mud,—­these the Rev. Mr. Paul’s boys cleaned for him, all of which was evidence that he it was, who had way-laid me with criminal intent.