About twenty miles from
Deadman's Bay, we overtook a fugitive negro, and as we came upon him
unexpectedly, when turning the edge of a hammock, he had not time to
retreat, being within rifle-range, or he would doubtless have done so.
He threw up his arms, and gave a piercing shriek (an unvariable custom
of Indians when in danger), expecting to be instantly shot. He had,
however, nothing to fear, having fallen in with friends and not foes. As
I saw he was without a rifle, I dashed forward and accosted him first.
He was soon assured, by my manner of addressing him, and begged
earnestly that we would not detain or hurt him. This I at once promised,
if he would inform us whether Indians were near. He said no, they had
left that country two suns (days) ago, taking an easterly direction, and
we might proceed to Fort Andrews in safety.
After putting several other questions to him, I inquired if the Indians
would cross our path to Tallahassee from that post. He said no, they
were far off in another direction, having gone to East Florida, eighty
miles distant.
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