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VOLUME I. | BY C. R. HASLEITER [POIET^Y, “ Much yet remains unsung .” THOU HAST LOVED. BY MRS. SEBA SMITH. Dearest, in thine eye’s deep light Is the look of tears allied — Sorrow struggling with delight, Each the other seeks to hide ; Thou the freighted ark of life Lonely floating on the sea, With thy being's treasure rife— Thou hast wearied thus to be. Thou hast sent thy dove from thee— Forth hath launched thy dove of peace, And the branch, though green it be, Can it bid thy tidings cease ? Though it speak of hope the while, Verdant spots and sunny bowers, Can it bring thee back the smile That beguiled the vacant hours? Take thy dove and fold its wing— Fold its ruffled wing to rest; Deluge airs around it ring: Let it nestle on thy breast. Dearest, all thy care is vain— Mark its trembling, weary wings; But it conies to thee again, And an olive branch it brings. Take it, bind it unto thee, Though the leaves ate dim with tears, Such thy woman lot must be— Love and sorrow, hopes and fears, Bind the branch of promise ever To thy heart, with fear oppressed; Let the leaves of hope, oh ! never, Withered, leave their place of rest. JOHN -S ALIVE ! OR THE BRIDE OF A GHOST. A Tale of Love and Adventure. BY WILLIAM T. THOMPSON. Ch apt er VI. John becomes weary of camp-life—Expedient for re lieving its monotony—The hunting patty—Florida scenery—A mimic Eden—tha rural lounge— Thoughts of pastoral life —Influence of association— Mankind an element—Pastoral recreations —The at tack—The escape—Night in the swamp—Search for the camp—The surprise—The chase—John becomes amphibious. A life of inactivity was but illti suited to my peculiar temperament, and I had re mained in our snug quarters in the vicinity of Fort Drane, only a few days, during which time my wound had become entirely , healed, before I began to feel restless and dissatisfied ; and notwithstanding the pri vations and hardships I had just endured, I was extremely anxious to exchange the dull tedium of the camp for the excitement of the field. We were to remain in this state of inactivity, until Gen. Scott should be en abled to complete his arrangements, prior to a simultaneous movement against the ene my from different points,- by which means that officer hoped to put an end to the war. 1 he time wore heavily oIF, and I determined to adopt some expedient to relieve the dull monotony of a life in camp. Accordingly, one day 1 proposed to four others of my companions to violate the standing order for the day, by stealing out into the woods and taking a hunt. My proposition was agreed to, and we set out with our yagurs, in search of the deer and wild turkeys which abound in almost every thicket or swamp in Florida. Our departure was unobserved by the guard, and we hastened away from Camp Smith, as our new encampment was called, intending only to go so far that the report of our guns might not reach the camp. We had strayed far away, amid the pic turesque wilds, of that delightful country, ere we were aware of our remoteness from the army. The scenery was enchanting, and even at that early season of the year, wore an aspect of luxuriance and freshness that could not fail to inspire the beholder with a love for the wild beauties of nature. Now we strayed through open meadows of waving grass, startling the herds of wild cat tle from thcii browsing beside meandering rivulets, or descended into the thick groves of fragrant orange and magnolia, where the wild vines wrought net-work oyer our heads, and the rich drapery of spring hung in graceful festoons from every bough. Then perchance we stood beneath the wide-spread ing shade of the ever-green live-oak, whose guarled “ms, laden with long pendant moss, had battled with the storms of centuries; or pressed with our feet the green carpeted hanks of some beautiful lake, whose trans parent waters mirrored upon its placid sur face, the stately forms and dark green foli age of the lofty trees that skirted it on every aide. Occasionally pausing to examine the rarer “did flowers that attracted our attention, or to quench our thirst in the cool, gurgling springs that gushed from many a hill side, we wandered on, forgetful of every danger, and even unmindful of the object of our Pursuit, until becoming weary, we threw ourselves upon a mossy bank, close by a B pring of delightful water, to rest and par take of the scanty repast we had brought with us. Though we had apprehended lit tle or no danger from the Indians, so close to Fort Drane, yet we had no disposition to a iFamilg Jictosimpcr: BcfcotcO to mteratwre, &fiv(culture, JHeclmuics, StmcaUou, jForcisu autr Bowcgtic KntcUCsence, &c. separate, and as we stalked through the woods, generally in free conversation, we could not expect to surprise much game. Indeed we felt too sensibly the calm influ ence of the mimic Eden through which we had strayed, to think of the rude sports of the chase, and the spot upon which we had accidentally paused, afforded a prospect too richly endowed with all the charms of na ture, to admid of any other thoughts than those of admiration and delight. There were no rugged mountains nor frowning granite cliffs to give grandeur and sublimity to the view : but the gently uudulating hills, clothed with the rich verdure of the spring, the placid lake, the murmuring rivulet, the richly tinted flowers, nodding to the soft breath of the fragrant zephyr, and the sweet music of the birds, lent an air of pastoral beauty to the scene, and imparted a feeling of tranquility and peace to the mind, de lightful to experience but impossible to des cribe. It was indeed “ A happy rural seat of various view; Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm, Others whose fruit burnish’d with golden rind Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true, If true, here only, and of delicious taste : Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks Grazing the tender herb, were interposed Or palmy hillock; or the flow’ry lap Os some irreguous valley spread her store, Flow’rs of all hue and without thorn the rose : Another side, umbrageous grots and caves Os cool recess, o’er which the mantling vine Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps Luxuriant; meanwhile murm'ring waters fa 11, That to the fringed bank with murtle crown’d Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams. The birds their choir applyj airs, vernal airs, Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune The trembling leaves.” “Is not this a lovely spot?” said one of our little party, in a tone of enthusiastic admi ration. “It is indeed !” replied my sentimental friend, Sam, surveying the enchanting scene as he spoke. “ How willingly would I end my days in such a place. Happy indeed, must have been the estate of those premi tive people who lived in the golden age • whose days were passed amid such rural scenes as these, and whose sole employment was to guard their grazing flocks. With hearts scarce less simple and innocent than those of their lambs an kids, they passed their days in dreams of love, equally con tented and happy. Unsophisticated in their manners, temperate in their desires, and un restrained by conventional forms, they roved the gieen fields of earth in the full enjoy ment of natural liberty; while the pure felicity of their existence flowed on, unin terrupted by any of the thousand vexatious cares, mortifications and disappointments which embitter the cup of life. “ By George,” exclaimed one, cocking up the brim of his beaver, and looking wildly about as he spoke, “if there is any such a thing as the influence of association, a fellow would soon turn to a witch-hazel or black jack, if he were to make his home in this wild region.” That’s a fact,” said Crockett, as he bent down to dip a cup of water, “my legs be gin to feel sort o’ woody a-ready.” “ I have somewhere seen mankind,” con tinued Sam, in a serious tone, “ called a teg etahle; and though lam not prepared to say that there are not some scions of father Adam’s stock, that seem to warrant the com parison, yet I am more inclined to class him with the elements. The element of flesh is not unlike that of water, at least in one char acteristic. In small communities it is gen erally passive and harmless, but in propor tion to its immensity, it becomes turbid, vi cious, and depraved. Yon glassy lake or this gurgling rill, like man in his primeval state, is pure, tranquil and beautiful; but is not the turbulent ocean, carrying death and destruction in its restless surges, with its treacherous quick-sands and hidden rocks, a fit emblem of our densely populated cities, where every vice that can corrupt and de base the species is practised, and where treachery, sin, and misery, roll their dark waves over the moral sea of human rela tions 1” All but the speaker enjoyed a hearty laugh at Sam’s strained philosophy. “ It’s a fact,” said he—“ show me a city, and I’ll show you vice and misery in all their various hues—a rural cot, and if not exalted virtue, truth and purity, at least simplicity and happiness. Man, though an intelligent being, formed for social life, is corrupting in his influence upon his fellows, and when viewed in the aggregate, resembles the cle ment of which 1 spaak, in more ways than one.” “ Well, Sam, you moralize first rate —but you’d have to preach a better stave than that, before you’d get me to agree to run wild again, like they say them old chaps were. I believe in civilization and good society, and thar’ an’t no place like Natchez, that ever I seed yet.” Same made no reply to Crockett, but throwing himself over upon his back, with his arms crossed under his head, commenc ed— “ Oh that the desert were my dwelling place— “ Well, every fellow to his liking,” inter rupted Ciockett—but I couldn’t live where there want no galls, no how—God bless J _ __ H em. The enraptured ruralizer continued— “ With one fair spirit for my minister— That I might all forget the human raoe, And hating noono, love but only her.” MADISON, MORGAN COUNTY, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 1, 1842. “ Ah, that might do—with a l ight pretty gall for a minister, I don’t know but 1 might ” “ Become an Anchorite,” interrupted one. “ A wkatente 1” asked Crockett, with a stare. “Oh, hush, Crockett, you don’t know what you are talking about,” replied Sam. Then after gazing a moment abstractedly into the thick canopy of overarching branches, through which the declining sun scarce pen etrated, he broke forth with one of Pope’s sweet pastorals— “ Hear how the birds in every bloomy spray, With joyousfmusic wake the dawning day ! Why sit we mute when early linnets sing, When warbling Philomel salutes the spring? Why sit we sad when Phtebus shines bo clear, And lavish nature paints the purple year?” To which, catching the inspiration of my friend, I replied— “ Sing then, and Damon shall attend the strain, While yon slow oxen turn the furrow’d plain. Here the bright crocus and blue violet glow Here western winds on breathing roses blow. I’ll stake yon lamb that near the fountain plays, And from the brink’ hjs dancing shade surveys.” Sam continued, raising aloft his tin-cup, upon which his name was carved, with ma ny an odd device by way of ornament— “ And I this bowl, where wanton ivy twines And swelling clusters bend the curling vines: Four figures rising from the work appear, The various seasons of the rolling year; And what is that” .. —“ Ingins, boys ! Ingins !” exclaimed Crockett, as he sprang towards his gun.— Each seized his yagur, but ere wc had risen to our feet, a volley of rifle-balls whistled over our beads, slightly wounding Crockett in the cheek. “ Oh, boys, my beauty’s spilt,” blubbered poor Crockett. The next moment a loud yell, that sent the blood curdling to our hearts, resounded through the woods, and as we hastily sprang behind the nearest trees, two more shots, which had been kept in reserve, were direct ed towards us from the adjacent thicket, which bad served to screen our lurking foe. We did not immediatly return the fire, but waiting until the Indians, in their attempt to reduce the distance between us, became ex posed to our aim, we gave them a well di rected fire from our five yagurs, three of which took effect, which somewhat reduced the number of our assailants. The Indians by this time, had reloaded their pieces, and still greatly supeiiorin number, rushed mad ly towards us, incensed to desperation, if such demons needed incitement, by the loss they had sustained. In this dilemma, flight was our only hope, and calling to my com rades to keep together, I led the way from our covert. While thus exposed the Indians fired, and two of our party were seen to fall. Sam, exclaiming “ the devil was in Para dise,” dashed down his yet unloaded gur. to free himself from all incumbrance, but ere lie had made a dozen paces from the spot, he too fell groaning by my side. Our party was now reduced to two, and my companion and myself, still retaining our guns, dashed through the open woods with the wreckless speed of men who fled from death in its most horrid form. The Indians were not slow in their pursuit, and it was long after their hideous yell had died upon our ears, and not until we had reached the midst of a dense and almost impenetrable swamp, that we felt that we had eluded their search, and that we were for a time free from danger. We passed the night in the dismal swamp, which had afforded us con cealment from our pursuers, by climbing in to the top of a large tree, where we sat out the long gloomy hours; our ears only greet ed by the doleful howl of the hungry wolf, t the fierce scream of the prowling panther, or the startling hoot of the owl; all of which tended little to relieve the sombre cast of our reflections. As the day was breaking in the east, on the following morning, we clambered down from our biding place, and set out in what we hoped to be the direction of the camp, though we knew not whether each step car ried us nearer to or farther from the point which we so anxiously wished to gain.— Keeping constantly a sharp look out, that we might not again be surprised, we travel ed on with rapid strides, anxiously hoping that we might meet some familiar object which would confirm us in our course. In the anxiety of our minds, we had forgotten every other consideration but that of our personal safety, and though we had neither eaten or slept since the previous day, yet we flagged not, such is the elasticity and vigor imparted to the physical frame by ex treme exigency of circumstances operating upon the mind. Onward we traveled, now in despondency, and now with reviving hope, as some peculiar aspect of the distant view —an apparent opening or a smoky horizon —seemed to indicate our proximity to some place of human abode. Once, we thought we heard the report of fire-arms, but at a distance so remote, that we could not dis tinguish whether it was that of the musket or yagur, or of the rifle of our ene mies—in which latter case there was, to us, certainly nothing very luring in the sound. The sun was already hidden among the tree-tops, when we discovered far away in the direction in which we supposed our camp to lie, a cloud of rising smoke, which we hailed with as much joy and gratitude as did the Israelites their cloud and pillar of fire in the wilderness. As the shades of evening around us, we hastened on in the direction of the camp, whose blaz ing fires now sent up their cheerful light, and by which we directed our course, felici tating ourselves upon our fortunate escape, fully resolved within our hearts, that if it was our evil fortune again to encounter the Indians, it should not he without our host. Such was our eagerness to join our friends, that we did not even pause for the challenge of the sentinenls, but hastened forward in the direction of the fires. We had almost penetrated into the camp, when, to my utter horror and dismay, I dis covered that we had rushed into the very den of the enemy. Hi-e-lah ! cste-liadkah !” exclaimed a dusky form, springing up be fore us, apparently not less terrified than ourselves. On the wings of terror, we rush ed from the place—hut we had been dis covered, and now a legion of yelling devils were in hot pursuit of us through the open pine woods. It wos a cloudless night, and the moon, which had risen Jabove the trees, sent its balm pale rays into the open woods, yielding a light scarce less brilliant and clear than that of the sun, affording our pursuers every advantage which day light could have given them. Shot after shot pealed through the woods, and so close did they press upon us, that we had no time to elude them by dodging, and no thicket presented itself as far as the eye could reach. A spent ball penetrated my thigh, hut it on ly added fleetness to my gait, as I dashed impetuously on. Once, 1 cast a look be nind—two Indians were abreast far in ad vance of the howling pack—l turned behind the next pine, and taking deliberate aim, fired—“ I Vah /” exclaimed one, as he fell forward upon his face. I saw his compan ion stoop over him, while the woods echoed with the yells of those in the rear. Reloading my piece a I dashed on, endeavoring to keep each tree that I passed between myself and my pursuers, I again began to increase the distance between us. Again I covered my self by a tree, and again the formost Indian halted from the chase. Reloading as be fore, I hastened on, my companion a little in my rear, when suddenly, to my consterna tion and surprise, I found myself close on the margin of a broad lake, extending far on either side. To alter my course, would on ly bring me nearer to the Indians. All es cape seemed hopeless-—a veavy volley whis tled past, as the infuriated savages approach ed, yelling injiideous concert. 1 turned to meet my fate at the moment my companion fell to the ground. Half rising and calling to me in the most piteous tones, he was grasped by the ruthless savages, who clus tered around him. Amid the shout and din, I heard the tomahawk cleave his skull, and heard his expiring groan. It: their midst I fired, and dashing my ,gun into the lake, rushed into the thick tall weeds, that grew far out into the water, determined at least to escape the appalling fate of my companion. As I looked back, I felt a numbing sensation in my breast, and the warm blood gushed upon my hand. I was falling from the stunning shock, when I grasped among the tall iron-weeds for support, some of which broke off in roy hands. They were hallow, and placing one in my mouth, I sank be neath the surface, where, not without diffi culty, I succeeded in drawing a breath or two through the weed. After moving to some distance from where I had first disap peared, and to where the water was deeper, 1 was forced to raise my head to the surface in order that I might enjoy a freer respira tion. The cold water soon coagulated the blood, and the severe wound which I had re ceived in my breast, ceased to bleed ; and though I cannot say that I felt comfortable in my new element, yet the sense of even temporary security from my merciless pur suers, was no small relief to my mind.— Luckily the position which 1 had attained, was thickly grown with tall weeds and pond lillies, so that while I had an opportunity of observing the movements of the Indians, I remained completely screened from their view. They were nearly all gathered round some two or three whom I had either killed or wounded by my last fire, while some three oi four of their number were plodding among the weeds and water in search of my body. 1 remained in my concealment until they gave over the search, and departed, yelling like so many fiends from a hellish carnival to their camp. Chapter VII. John emerges fromliis concealment-—Fever— Delirium -Insensibility—Recovery—Despondency— Reviving influence of the|brightcning dawn-Morning repast-A new feeling—His wanderings—Second night in the wilderness—Dreams—The evening gun—Arrival at the St. Johns—Joyful emotions on first reaching the army—Surgical operation—Rule for estimating de grees of pain—Recovery—Reflections upon the past —Reformation resolved upon—Return to Philadel phia. The moon had risen high in the heavens, ere I ventured to emerge from my uncom fortable concealment. I was chilled to the very vitals, arid a cold shudder ran over my whole frame as I attempted to drag my stif fened limbs along the beach. Fearing that the Indiana might possibly be lurking in the vicinity, I determined to lose no time in quitting the place which had been the scene of so much horror, and if possible to reach some spot of greater safety. But my limbs refusod to perform their office, and I sank down upon the ground, shivering and cold, unable to proceed. The wound in my breast commenced to bleed afresh, and soon a burn ing fever seized me, and I crawled to the beach to quench my parching thirst. A dimness came over my eyes, accompanied by a dreadful nausea. My head became dizzy, and lake, ground and bushes, wheeled round and round till darkness shut them out from my view. The tall trees threw their lengthened shadows far over the moon-lit lake, and their tops tossed to and fro in the chill wind, with a sullen roaring sound, when 1 rose from the cold earth. Ragged white clouds were passing swiftly overhead, and occasional gusts of wind startled me as they rustled the leaves and bushes at intervals. How long 1 had lain there I could not tell, but it was evident from the position of the moon, that many hours had passed during my un consciousslumlter. With difficulty 1 regain ed my feet, and binding my handkerchief as well as I could upon the frightful wound in my breast, 1 again essayed to leave the spot. Slowly [and stealthily I plodded my way along the lonely beach, until 1 reached the extremity of the lake, then striking into the woods, H traveled on, unconscious of the course I was pursuing, until I reached a small thicket, into which I turned, and tyit me down to'rest. I suffered excessively both from loss of blood and hunger, and I sank back against the trunk of a tree, where I hoped I might die in peace. Filled with the most despond ing thoughts, 1 sat out the dark hour which preceded the approach of day ; hut when the streaks of amber light began to ascend the cast, and shortly after, when the sun sent up his cheering rays, dispersing the gloomy shadows of the night, and tinging the dewy leaves with gold, while the hymn of nature rose upon the morning breeze from every glittering spray, imparting life and anima tion to the scene, my subdued and broken spirit seemed to lake its hue from the bright ening prospect, and I remembered, that “ while there is life tbeie is hope.” My first business was to obtain something wherewith to satisfy my craving appetite. With my large knife, 1 was enabled to pro cure an abundant supply of palmetto and other nutrieious roots, upon which, and a few craw fish, I made a hearty meal. By this time, my wounds began to be very sore, and on examination 1 found I had received othersliglit injuries beside those in my breast and thigh. But having partnken of a hear ty breakfast, I soon felt sensible of my re turning strength, and though but illy calcula ted in my crippled condition to survive a journey through the wilderness, much less to combat the foe which surrounded me on every side, I was encouraged by the past to hope for the future. I felt that my destiny was in thehandsof an overruling Providence, to whom I was alone indebted for the pre servation of my unprofitable life. What dangers had I not passed ? and what hand but that of- omnipotence could have preserv ed me amid the perils of the past few days 1 A strange feeling sprang up in my breast— and, unworthy as 1 was, I breathed a fervent aspiration to Him, who in much mercy had permitted me to live to repent of the past, and whom I trusted with an abiding faith would again restore me to my pious mother, that I might repair in some degree the wrong I had done her. With slow and cautious steps, I again re sumed my way, ever hoping that the next hour would bring me either to the camp I had left, to some of the numerous military posts, or to some settlement of the whites. But night again closed around me in the lonely wilderness. By the bt ight moonlight, I wandered on, until I came to a public road. Whither it led 1 knew not, but that it would direct me to some settlement I was certain, and taking one end, I determined to travel as long as my strength would permit, or un til I reached some place of safety. The moon had nearly gone down ere I sought a place of resh Turning into a thicket at some little distance from the road, I gather ed a pallet of moss and laid me down td” rest, but not to sleep, unless (hat condition when one is half sleeping and half waking, startled at intervals by horrid visions, might be called sleep. Vaiious and strange were the visions shadowed forth upon iny sleeping senses, as I lay on my moss-bed in the dark and solemn woods. Now I.stood by the gushing foun tains of Fair Mount—the gardens were il luminated with lamps of transcendentbright ness—l heard the rushing of the pent up waters, and tbp smothered thunder of the mighty engines—streams of crystal water rose from innumerable jets, and came show ering down among the green branches of the trees, like liquid diamonds—the gravelled walks were filled with gay throngs of peo ple—delicious viands were spreud around —soft music floated upon the breeze—the song and dance were there, and joyous faces greeted nte on every side—but oh, vision of loveliness! Mary bung upon my arm, and the rich melody of her voice poured its en chantment on my ear, in accents of love.. . The illusion passed I stood beneath the brilliant chandeliers of the gay saloon—my sisters, my friends were there —’twas a joyous company, but I was not happy—there was one that looked coldly upon me—l gazed upon her as she passed me with averted face—she leant upon the arVn of Thaw, who bent upon me a smile of triumph. I left the hall, and the gay assem blage to meditate alone -. Again the ! | NUMBER 27. W. T. THOMPSON, EDITOR, scene was changed I tfras stretched upon a sick bed—my mother's soft melan choly eyes were bent upon me—she called my name, but I could not speak—a shroud lay upon the table, and I knew that I wai dying Then the din of battle, the peel of arms and the shout of the foe burst upon my ear—l had fallen, and was crushed to the earth beneath horses’ feet, but could not call for aid The battle ceased, and the vision passed from the magic mirror of my fancy I knew that I was up on my moss-bed—it was bright moon-light, and I casttny eyes around upon the leaves and bushes—a foot-fall attracted my ear—l listened—it surely wasnodrenm—lowvoices whispered together, and then a swarthy In dian approached—behind him were many more. With stealthy step he drew near— his eyes glared with demoniac fury—his hideous face was smeared with gore—a bloody knife was in his hand, and clots of blood hung from his shaggy scalp-lock. I would have fled but could not—l would have plead for mercy but my tongue was paralyz ed. Brandishing his bloody knife, lie-hover ed over me, till frozen with terror I gasped for breath. He bote me to the earth—his knee was upon my breast—with one fiend ish yell, he plugged his knife deep into my side! 1 awoke—just as an owl that had perched itself upon a tree above my head, sent forth its wild, startling hoot. I was ly ing upon my back, trembling in every joint, while the cold perspiration stood in large drops upon my face. I turned upon my side and drew the moss closerabout me, but when I again lost the sense of pain in sleep, it was only to allow my mind still wilder vagaries in the world of dreams. At early dawn, I resumed my journey.— I had not proceeded far, however, when I discovered numerous moccasin tracks in the sand, and several strange and uncovith fi gures, which appeared freshly made. As these indicated the presence of Indians, I resolved to leave the road forfear they might pursue my tracks, if they did not meet me on the way. Striking again into the woods, I kept a constant look-out for Indians as I traveled on, occasionally pausing towest, or to fill myself with the sparkle-berries and haws, which 1 found in great abundance. Night again began to close around me, still in the lonely wilderness. My wounds had become exceedingly painful, and 1 jtegan to fear that I would be unable to proceed far ther. As the sun was sinking beneath the horizon, and the sombre shadows gradually dissolved into darkness, 1 laid me down up on my rude couch. My mind was oppress ed with the awful thought of the sad death that aw aited me, alone in that desolate place, and my heart was full of melancholy fore bodings. All hope had'fled, and I closed my eyes in deep despair, when the distant report of the evening gun broke joyfully up on my ear. Words will not express the joyful emotions of my breast, as I listened to the deep reverberating sound, as it rolled along through the echoing valleys, until hushed in the stillness of the solitude that reigned around. I was overcome with joy —not wiid, extatic joy—but a calm, holy “ feeling of gratitude, such as I had never ex perienced before, made me happy in the prospect of approaching relief and safety; and a fear stole down my haggard cheek as I caught the familiar notes of the tatoo, that came faintly upon the breeze as if to assure my hope. Marking w-ell the direction of the sound, I soon sank into a refreshing sleep, regardless of my physical pain, now that my mental agony was in a measure abated. With the early dawn, I rose and pursued my journey. My progress was necessarily slow, owing to ‘my crippled condition and exhausted strength, and it was towards even ing whon I reached the margin of a large river, down which I determined to proceed until I should intersect the road, at which point I confidently expected to find the fort whose gun I had heard the preceding even ing. An hour’s walk brought me in sight of the “ flaunting stars and stripes,” floating proudly over what I afterwards learned to be the pine picquets qf Piccolati, on the op posite side of the river. On arriving at the junction of the road, 1 found a large body of troops encamped, preparatory to their de parture for Fort Drane. I was too much overcome by the intensity of my feelings to answer satisfactorily any of the many ques tions that were eagerly pressed upon me by the deeply sympathising and astonished group that gathered around mo. I wassoon conveyed to a tent, where I guve\ent to my joy and gratitude in a flood of tears, while flom my inmost heart went up the first offering of praise and thanks that I had ever raised to the throne of mercy. Such was the swollen and iuflamed condi tion of my wounds that I was immediately sent across the river to Piccolati, where I was put in care of the surgeon, who pro ceeded to dress them, and as well as his facil ities would allow, to administer to my relief and comfort. On the following day, I was subjected to a painful surgical operation, the pain of which, exceeded all the suffering of my past life. A rifle-ball had passed round from my brtffest and lodged underneath my shoulder blade, which ball, it became necessary to extract in order to heal the wound. My whole irm was exceedingly swollen, and my Moulder and back in the vicinity of the wound, were inflamed to such a degree that the slightest pressure from the surface caused the most, acute pain.