obliged them to travel slowly. They encamped the first night, on the Little Hillsborough, seven miles from the Fort. Next day they crossed the Big Hillsborough, afterwards the Little, and by Ouithlacouchy rivers, and on the night of the 27th, camped near a pond called the Clayhole. Each night they raised a small breastwork round their little camp. The ill fated party breakfasted on the morning of the 28th before sunrise, and pursued their journey; the road lying along the margin of the pond. They reached the extreme end without any interruption. On one side was a large forest of pine trees, on the other was the pond. Some of the party had passed round its head when they were alarmed by the report of a rifle, and immediately after a musket was discharged by one of the soldiers. The party halted, and Mr. Clarke (my informant) looked earnestly at the Major, expecting some command. A volley was here poured on them by their unseen foe; the Major was in the act of turning when he and his horse fell completely perforated with balls. Captain Frazer, Lieutenant Mudge, and the advanced guard fell at the same time. The soldiers were completely taken by surprise; some were so much flustered that they fired in the air, but after a few shots they became cool enough. The six pounder was now brought up and discharged two or three times, when the army fled in all directions. Several hundreds of them were seen collected on a mound, a mile and a half from the scene of action. This gave the troops some breathing time; they commenced throwing up a breastwork, but were not allowed to complete it. In about three quarters of an hour the Indians moved from the knoll, and collected a half a mile off. They then advanced coolly and deliberately to a second attack. Captain Gardiner took the command within the breastwork; the men lay down to load and kept up a constant fire until three o’clock, P. M.; but their ranks were sadly thinned. Captain Gardiner had fallen covered with wounds; Lieutenant Keys had both arms broken; Lieutenant Henderson had his left arm broken, but loaded and fired forty rounds afterwards, and Lieutenant Bassinger was also severely wounded. Mr. Clarke observed Dr. Gatlin, as the Indians advanced to the second attack, posted behind a log, with two double barrelled guns beside him. He heard the doctor say he had four barrels for them. Mr. C. saw no more of him till he was creeping out at night, when he passed by the corpse of the doctor, stripped quite naked. Towards the close of the fight, Mr. C. received a severe wound in the shoulder; he had been previously shot in the thigh, arm and back, and one buckshot had grazed his temple. The last bullet from a musket entered his shoulder and passed out through his back, rendering him completely hors de combat. The fire soon after ceased; all inside the breastwork were either killed or severely wounded. The Indians broke in, and, strange to say, neither scalped the dead nor abused the wounded. They contented themselves with pillaging all of their arms, ammunition and provisions. When they had quit the field, a body of negroes fifty or sixty in number, came up on horseback, entered the enclosure, and commenced hacking and cutting the wounded, in a most savage manner. They approached Lieutenant Bassinger, he sprang on his feet and begged them to spare his life, but they knew not the voice of mercy; they struck him down with a tomahawk, cut open his breast and tore out his heart and lungs. They proceeded in the same brutal manner with the rest of the wounded, stripping them all of their clothes. At length they approached Mr. C. and stripped off his jacket, in the pocket of which he had one hundred and twenty dollars; they also took off his hat and boots and felt for his watch. One of the ruffians remarked that he was alive and proposed to drive a bayonet through him but was overruled by one of his comrades, who observed that the wound in his head would certainly kill him, and that they should let him suffer as much pain as possible before death. This saved him. The negroes soon departed laden with plunder. The poor fellow lay on his face for some time; at length he felt a hand on his shoulder, and one of his comrades having ascertained that he was still alive, proposed to him to set out immediately; he refused, stating that it was too soon. The other left him and had not crept many yards when an Indian stepped from behind a log and shot him. A dark cloud and a rain storm came on; this was a moment too favorable to be lost. Mr. C. crept cautiously into the wood and met another comrade attempting his escape; they travelled together. Next morning they perceived an Indian in pursuit, gaining very fast on them. They immediately separated, entering the woods, the one on the right, the other on the left hand. The Indian pursued and killed one, and returned in search of the other, who had concealed himself in some thick palmettoes. He approached so near that he made the bushes rustle over his intended victim; but he soon abandoned the search and returned to the Black Swamp, the home of his people. Mr. Clarke travelled slowly to Fort Brooke, which he reached in three days. The distance from the battle field is sixty five miles. He was forced to creep on his hands and knees nearly two thirds of the way. One of his comrades, named Thomas, had arrived the day before, wounded in the thigh. Another named Sprague, came in the day after, wounded in the arm, and these three were the only survivors of one hundred and seventeen men. A small dog of Captain Gardiner’s also arrived wounded in the neck. Black Dirt had predicted the state of the party previous to its march from Fort Brooke, and advised them not to go; but Major Dade treated the matter lightly; he had no apprehensions, and the event unfortunately proved that the prediction of the Indian was but too correct.

21st.—Colonel Lindsay returned with a part of his command to obtain provisions. He had only been twenty-one miles distant from us on the Big Hillsboro’ River, where he had built a Fort, called Fort Alabama, somewhat similar to Fort Brooke. A few days before, he had dispatched a man named Evans, to Fort King, with letters for the main army, and had promised him a handsome reward, if he should succeed in escaping the vigilence of the enemy. Evans was well mounted, he passed by their main body asleep at night, and soon after fell in with a drove of their ponies; his horse neighed, the Indians’ dogs barked, and they themselves were soon on the qui vive—Evans perceived that he was surrounded, and determined to return by the way he came; he accordingly charged back, and was fired on from all sides without injury to himself or horse, though the Indians killed several of their own ponies which were close by.

Colonel Lindsay returned, the day following, to Fort Alabama, whence his intention was to march towards Gen. Gaines’ army.

26th.—A Cutter arrived from St. Marks, with several officers from Gen. Gaines’ army, confirming the accounts we had previously received by the seven days skirmish with the enemy, and the distress of the army for provisions. Gen. Gaines had proceeded to New Orleans.

27th.—Two non-commissioned officers of the Fort, assistant Commissary Sergeants, Turner and Sunderland, with two citizens, Messrs. Simmonds and Stewart rode out, after dinner on horseback. They had been but a short time gone, when we heard the reports of several rifles and two or three distinct yells. In a few minutes after we saw one of them, Mr. Turner, come in at full gallop, and a horse without his rider close behind. Mr. Turner informed he had been fired on by the Indians one mile from the Fort, and that the other three had been killed. He himself had received a bullet through his cap. A party was immediately formed, and marched towards the place of ambuscade; on the road they met Mr. Sunderland with his right arm broken and Mr. Simmonds shot