“’When we reached the camp, great rejoicings were exhibited.  Two squaws and a few papooses appeared particularly delighted at the sight of me, and I was assured, by very unequivocal gestures and words, that, on the morrow, the mortal enemy of the Redskins would cease to live.  I never opened my lips but was busy contriving some scheme which might enable me to give the rascals the slip before dawn.  The women immediately fell a searching about my hunting-shirt for whatever they might think valuable, and, fortunately for me, soon found my flask tilled with Monongahela (that is, reader, strong whisky).  A terrific grin was exhibited on their murderous countenances, while my heart throbbed with joy at the anticipation of their intoxication.  The crew immediately began to beat their bellies and sing, as they passed the bottle from mouth to mouth.  How often did I wish the flask ten times its size, and filled with aquafortis!  I observed that the squaws drank more freely than the warriors, and again my spirits were about to be depressed, when the report of a gun was heard at a distance.  The Indians all jumped on their feet.  The singing and drinking were both brought to a stand, and I saw, with inexpressible joy, the men walk off to some distance and talk to the squaws.  I knew that they were consulting about me, and I foresaw that in a few moments the warriors would go to discover the cause of the gun having been fired so near their camp.  I expected that the squaws would be left to guard me.  Well, sir, it was just so.  They returned; the men took up their guns, and walked away.  The squaws sat down again, and in less than five minutes had my bottle up to their dirty mouths, gurgling down their throats the remains of the whisky.

“’With what pleasure did I see them becoming more and more drunk, until the liquor took such hold of them that it was quite impossible for these women to be of any service.  They tumbled down, rolled about, and began to snore; when I, having no other chance of freeing myself from the cords that fastened me, rolled over and over toward the fire, and, after a short time, burned them asunder.  I rose on my feet, stretched my stiffened sinews, snatched up my rifle, and, for once in my life spared that of Indians.  I now recollect how desirous I once or twice felt to lay open the skulls of the wretches with my tomahawk; but when I again thought upon killing beings unprepared and unable to defend themselves, it looked like murder without need, and I gave up the idea.

“’But, sir, I felt determined to mark the spot, and walking to a thrifty ash sapling I cut out of it three large chips, and ran off.  I soon reached the river soon crossed it, and threw myself deep into the canebrakes, imitating the tracks of an Indian with my feet, so that no chance might be left for those from whom I had escaped to overtake me.

“’It is now nearly twenty years since this happened, and more than five since I left the whites’ settlements, which I might probably never have visited again had I not been called on as a witness in a lawsuit that was pending in Kentucky, and which I really believe would never have been settled had I not come forward and established the beginning of a certain boundary line.  This is the story, sir: