our whole journey. It was long, loud and shrill; and intended to signify that they had one prisoner. Their custom is to repeat the whoop until the repetitions equal the number of prisoners; and in this way it can be known as far as it is heard, whether they have prisoners or scalps, and also the number of each. Though the night was dark and rainy, we lay down in a laurel thicket without food or fire. Having previously examined me to see whether I had a knife, the old Wolf tied one end of a leading halter sccurely around my neck, and the other around his arm, so as to render it impossible for me to disengage myself without waking him. But, notwithstanding my circumstances were thus gloomy, I slept soundly. Indeed I suppose no prisoner was ever more resigned to his fate. The next morning we resumed our journey and continued down Tug Creek about two miles, until we reached the main ridge of Tug mountain, along which we descended, until we came to Maxwell's Gap. This Gap received its name from a Mr. Maxwell who was killed there by the Indians, while in the pursuit of the wife of Thomas English of Burk's Garden, who was a prisoner. About this time, I was sent some distance for water, when supposing myself out of sight, I gave vent to my feelings and wept freely. On my return the old Indian who had watched me, pointed out the marks of tears on my face, when shaking his towmahawk over my head, he told me I must not do so again. Their object in sending me so far, was to ascertain whether I would attempt to escape, and as I did not, they no longer tied me. Here the old Wolf brought in a middle-sized Dutch oven which had been secreted on a former expedition, and assigned the carriage of it to me. At first it was fastened to my back, but after suffering much, I threw it down saying I would not carry it. Upon this, he laid down his bundle and told me to carry that. Finding that I could not even

lift it, I became more reconciled, took up the oven and after several days filled it with leaves, placed it on my head and carried it with more comfort. We continued on the same ridge the whole of the following day, and encamped on it at night. A rain coming on in the evening, the son of the black Wolf pulled off my hat; this I resented, struck him and took it away; but on his making it known that his object was to protect his gun-lock, I permitted him to use it, and when the rain was over he returned it. We travelled three days without sustenance of any kind, save a refreshing drink, which the Indians make by steeping the bark of the poplar in water. On the fourth day we killed a Buffalo, and after slightly rinsing the tripe, put it into a kettle with some pieces of the flesh, and made broth. Of this we drank heartily, but abstained from the flesh. At night we prepared another kettle of broth, still abstaining from the flesh. This is Indian policy after a long fast.

"I travelled the whole distance without shoes, and at this time having three stone-bruises on each foot, my sufferings were very severe. Some few days after the first we killed a second buffalo, which was very fat, and dried a sufficiency of the meat to last us several days. After this, we obtained game as our wants required till the end of our journey. We crossed the Ohio on a raft made of dead logs, tied together with grape-vines. When we came to the Scioto, we remained one day, and here they made pictures on a tree, representing three Indians and one prisoner. Near to this place the old Wolf went off and procured some bullets which had been secreted on a former occasion. At the end of twenty days from the time we set out, we reached their towns. These were situated on the Scioto, near to what is now Chilicothe. When they came near them they painted themselves black, but did not paint me, which was an omen of my safety. I was taken to the residence

of Wolf's half-sister, a short distance from their town, and sold to her for an old horse. The reason why I was not taken to the town, was first, because it was a time of peace; and secondly, that I might be saved from running the gauntlet, which was the case with prisoners taken in the time of war.

"Soon after I came to my new home, my mistress left me alone in her wigwam for several days with a kettle of homony for my food, and in this lonely situation, I began to call upon God for mercy and deliverance, and found great relief. I had been taught to pray; my father prayed in his family, and I now found the benefit of the religious instruction and example I had enjoyed. Having cast my burdens on the Lord, I would arise from my knees, comforted and cheerful. About two weeks after I was sold, my mistress sent me with others on a hunting excursion; but in this we were very unsuccessful. The snow being knee-deep, my blanket too short to cover me, and having very little additional clothing, my sufferings were very great. After lying down at night, and attempting to get my feet under the blanket, my legs would become so benumbed with cold, that it was with difficulty I could stretch them out. Early in the morning the old Indian would put on a large fire, and then make myself and the younger Indians plunge all over in cold water. This I think was of great benefit, as it prevented us from taking cold. On our return from the hunt, the old Indian gave me up to a Captain Elliot, a trader from Detroit; but when my mistress heard of it she became very angry, threatened Elliot and got me back. Sometime in the following April, there was a dance at a town two miles distant, which I attended; and where I met with a French trader from Detroit, by the name of Batest Ariome, who taking a fancy to me on account of my resemblance to one of his sons, bought me

for fifty dollars in Indian money.

I there also met with a

Mr. Sherlock, a trader from Kentucky who had been a prisoner to this Tribe, and had rescued a lad captured in our neighborhood, by the name of Moffat, whose father though. now in Kentucky was an intimate acquaintance of my father. I requested Mr. Sherlock to write to my father through Mr. Moffat, informing him of my captivity, and that I had been purchased by a French trader, and was gone to Detroit. There is reason to believe that my father received this letter, and that it gave him the first intelligence of what had become of me."

We must pause here in our narrative to notice the destruction and captivity of the remaining part of Mr. Moore's family.

(To be continued.)

REMINISCENCES OF REVOLUTIONARY AND SUBSEQUENT TIMES.

[We continue here our extracts from the autobiographical account of himself written by the late Rev. Dr. Ashbel Green, of Philadelphia; which we commenced in our last number, and shall conclude in our next.]

THE STATE OF THE COUNTRY IN 1787.

When I settled in Philadelphia, (in April 1787,) four years had elapsed since the independence of our country was established by the peace of Paris. But although the storm of war had ceased, the agitation of the waves which it had excited was not yet tranquilized. John Adams, the immediate successor of Washington in the Presidentship of the United States, was our first ambassador to the Court of London. On being introduced to the king, George the

Third, that monarch addressed him to the following effect: 'Sir, I was the last man of my kingdom to consent to the independence of your country, and shall be the last to violate the treaty that confirms it.” In truth, it had been the king's and people's war; and the contrary opinion which had prevailed in this country was erroneous. The nation was mortified at the results of the war, and indignant at the loss of its colonies. On our side, too, many were yet living who had suffered beyond endurance, in the prisonships of New York; and there was a still greater number who remembered, with unextinguished anger, the plunderings, desolations and insults of the British armies, in their marches through the various parts of our country. Congress, conformably to a treaty stipulation, had recommended to the several States, then independent sovereignties, to restore the forfeited estates of the tories, or to give them an equivalent for their losses; but the recommendation was, in some instances, altogether disregarded, and in others very partially complied with. The British, on their part, refused to give up the forts which they held on the frontiers of our country, to indemnify the owners of the slaves who had been carried away by their armies, and they would enter into no commercial arrangements with us. Still, the universal love of money would have given us a measure of commerce, both with Britain and other European nations, if we had been in a situation to be commercial. But we were not-we were exhausted by the revolutionary war; we owed a heavy debt to France, and a much larger one to the disbanded officers and soldiers who had fought our battles, and we had no pecuniary resource but from a direct tax on land and other real property, to which our citizens were generally and strongly opposed. Congress had in vain endeavoured to persuade the several States to cede to that body the exclusive right of raising a