hands, he felt well assured that he could never remain in that part of the country after the disclosure of the horrible transactions which as yet remained a secret in his own bosom, and of the names of those beings who conducted the machinery of this extensive plan of operations.

Thus, as it were, proclaimed an outlaw, and hunted down by those whose enmity was almost certain destruction, he came to the conclusion that it was his duty to leave America. His mind being fixed, he directed his course across the country towards Columbus, in the State of Mississippi, and intended to go from thence to Mobile, and from there to some part of Eu

rope, for a few years. This resolution being formed,

he aroused himself to the greatest exertions for putting it in execution.

It was late in the afternoon when Mr. Stewart bade adieu to the desolate region which had served him for a couch and place of concealment during the night: he however first examined his horse, to see whether he had not received injury in the rencounter, but happily he found him free from all harm. Covered with blood, and exhausted with faintness, and want of rest, and food, Mr. Stewart mounted and began a retreat from his hiding-place; he set out in a southerly direction, and determined to prosecute his journey through the night. He was almost famished for want of water, and he also wished to cleanse himself from the blood that covered him before he should meet with any person from whom he should be liable to attract observation. After about an hour's travel he found water, when he allayed his thirst, and cleansed his gar

ments and person from the blood which covered them; he changed his dress and strove to divest himself of every thing that bore any mark of the affray ; and, after as much as possible hiding every vestige of the encounter, he resumed his journey; he passed a farmhouse before dark, but studiously avoided coming in contact with any of its inmates. He met with several roads during the night, but not one of them appeared to run in the direction that he wished.

He continued his solitary journey through the woods and unfrequented paths until near midnight, when he met with a serious obstacle. A creek lay exactly before his course, which, in the night, he could not discern a fording-place to cross.

He now dismounted and relieved his horse from his burden, and, tying him by the head and leg, allowed him to go in quest of whatever he could find to satisfy the demands of hunger, which by this time had doubtless become most acute; for Mr. Stewart could not bear to tie him up for a second night, to fast again until he should arrive at some place of safety. Mr. S. again prepared his couch, and, stretching himself upon his blanket, attempted to get an hour's repose. The weather was not very cold, but was quite damp, and in his weak and exposed condition he took a violent cold from this exposure; this, added to his sufferings, produced a state of mind bordering on delirium.

On the morning of the fourth, he found his horse not far from the place where he had turned him loose the evening before, saddled him, and again proceeded upon his journey. Mr. Stewart, as well as his horse, was now almost exhausted from fatigue and

want of food, and he determined to stop at the next house, be it at whatever hazard it might. Mr. Stewart continued his ride until he came to a settlementroad, and, about eight in the morning, stopped at a farmer's house by the roadside, and immediately made inquiries whether he could feed his horse, and procure something for his own breakfast. The host made a frivolous excuse at not being able to accommodate him, and Mr. Stewart then made inquiry if he could tell him the road to Purdyville; but, instead of giving him the desired information, he answered all his interrogations with other questions.

Mr. Stewart then told him that he was hungry, and anxious to arrive at some place where he might stop and obtain breakfast, and would be glad if he would direct him without further equivocation. The man pointed out to him the way to the main road. Mr. Stewart thought it the most prudent plan to assume another name, and change as much as possible his appearance. He however required almost the whole stock of his clothing from his portmanteau to meet the demands of his present delicate situation.

Between eleven and twelve he arrived at a house on the public road, which road was, in fact, but little more than a distinguishable foot-path, where he procured refreshment for both himself and horse; and, being extremely worn down by fatigue and exposure, Mr. Stewart sought relief in a few hours' repose.

Mr. Stewart eluded all inquiries from his host by observing a reserved demeanour, and alleging for his conduct the ill health under which he was labouring. Had he deemed it prudent, he would gladly have re

mained at his house until he should have recovered from the effects of his wounds, and become in a condition better adapted to the fatigues and exposures incidental to a long journey through so wild and inhospitable a portion of the country; but, in case he remained, he would be forced to make known the circumstances of his rencounter, and consequently the development of his name and business would naturally follow, in which case he could promise himself but little hope of safety.

Under his present peculiar circumstances, Mr. Stewart thought it the most prudent plan to bear his situation as long as he could support himself upon his horse, and at least avoid an exposure of his real name and business until he should leave this part of the country far behind him. Mr. Stewart left this house, and proceeded upon the direct road to the Chickasaw nation; but was compelled to stop travelling before night from excess of misery. His fever grew worse and worse, and this, added to the pain arising from his wounds, made him almost delirious. He stopped at a house that day and procured food; but what passed during the remainder of the day he could not remember. The next house at which he stopped was at a Chickasaw settlement; but of the time that had elapsed since he left his previous stopping-place, he could form no idea, nor of the country over which he had travelled.

The old Indian with whom he lodged was very attentive and kind to him, and Mr. Stewart remained at this place until his fever had somewhat abated, when his extreme anxiety, and the loneliness of his situation,

urged him to make another effort to continue his journey.

A port on the Tombigbee river, called Cotton-gin, was the point to which, under the direction of the Indian, he now directed his course; he spent one night at this town without attracting any peculiar observation, or being questioned as to his name and business. Having somewhat recruited himself by a good night's rest, he again set out next morning on the road to Columbus; but, to his extreme disappointment, there was no boat running on the river at that time. At this place, as at Cotton-gin, he succeeded in keeping himself free from particular observation.

Mr. Stewart had the gratification, however, next morning, to learn from the keeper of the hotel where he stopped, that there was a party of ladies and gentlemen who were then crossing the ferry on their way to the river counties, and he immediately resolved to join the party, and travel in their company to some port on the Mississippi river, and then down to New-Orleans. Accordingly he hastened his movements as much as possible, and came up with the party just as they were setting out from the opposite side of the river. Mr. Stewart did not wish to make any new acquaintances, but merely to be able to travel along with this party, for the purpose of being less likely to attract observation on the road; and at the same time be relieved from the fear of an attack while performing the remainder of his journey.

His retiring and unobtrusive manner saved him from any particular notice from the party with whom he was travelling. Towards evening they began to divide