Letter VII.

Ouchee Creek, 24th March, 1820.

(In the Nation of the Creek Indians.)

My last letter was of the 22nd instant, from the Indian Agency, on the Flint River. We crossed that river at half-past 5 o'clock, A. M. on the 23d instant, and arrived at Spaine's Inn, 28 miles, at twelve.

woman,

66

As we approached it, we saw some Indians in their wigwams on the road-side. One was lying asleep before the door, his head covered with a blanket; and when I pointed to him, a who was sitting over him said, Whiskey sick-Whiskey sick." Some had brought their little parcels of Indian corn from an Indian town, about eight miles distant, and were selling it to the people of the inn. The young men were shooting small birds with their bows and arrows; and the little children, who appeared very active, were trying to walk on their hands. as the children in England occasionally do.

The landlord of our little cabin was a white man, the partner of an Indian Chief;-the

Creek Indians allowing no white person to settle in their nation, except as their partners, as husbands of Indian women, or in some way or other, closely connected with themselves, He gave us some coffee, Indian corn-bread, and bacon; a plain substantial fare, which you seldom fail to obtain throughout the nation, sometimes improved by the addition of sugar, and cream, and butter, and sometimes varied by the introduction of wild venison or wild turkies.

As we purposed sleeping in the woods that night, there being no cabin within a convenient distance, we had here to lay in provision for our horses. At four o'clock, we set out-my servant carrying a handkerchief full of Indian corn; and a large bundle of Indian corn-leaves, the substitute for hay in this country, being tied behind me on my horse, half as high as my shoulders.

On the banks of several streams, we saw parties of Indians, who had settled themselves there for a few days, to assist travellers in swimming their horses; but, as the waters had subsided, we did not require their assistance. Their rude dwellings were formed of four upright saplings, and a rough covering of pine-bark, which they strip from the trees with a neatness

and rapidity which we could not imitate. Before them, the women were sitting, dressing Indian corn or wild venison; the men lying by their side, with intelligent and happy countenances, graceful in their attitudes, and grave and dignified in their address. Some of the parties whom we passed in the glens at sunset, made a very picturesque appearance.

We rode nearly two hours, by moon-light, before we could find water for our horses: at length, observing some fires at a distance in the woods, we struck toward them; but they were surrounded by Indians, to whom we could not make ourselves intelligible. At last we discerned a stream of water, and near it two or three parties of travellers, who had already lighted their fires, by which they were toasting their bacon, and boiling their coffee. We invited ourselves to join one, consisting of a little Alabama cotton-planter and his daughter, whom we had met in the course of the day. He was in a situation of life corresponding, perhaps, with that of our second or third-rate farmers; and was bringing his daughter from school at Milledgeville, in Georgia, 300 to 400 miles from hence. They travelled in a little Jersey waggon (or dearborn, or carry-all, as this humble vehicle is variously denominated,)--

"camping out" every night, and cooking their bacon and coffee three times a day.

Some stragglers from the other parties joined us, for a little chat before bed-time; and were consulting on the propriety of proceeding directly to the end of their journey, or staying for a season, as is very common, to "make "a crop" on some of the unappropriated public lands. When they were gone, our Alabama friends sat reading by the fire for an hour or two, before they retired to rest; the little girl then ascended the waggon, and her father covered her with a blanket, spreading an umbrella over her, to protect her from the dew. As for ourselves, having secured our horses, given them their supper, and contributed our supply to the stock of wood for the night, we lay down on the blankets which we always put under our saddles, to prevent the horses backs from being galled; taking our saddle-bags for pillows, and placing our pistols by our side.

In the course of the night, a few Indians paid us a visit; walking round us, and examining us very attentively, but without speaking. The novelty of the scene, however, prevented my sleeping much. On my left hand, were my friend the Alabama planter, and his daughter, with her coffee-pot and her "Tales of My

"Landlord," at her father's feet.

About 100

yards from us, were the emigrants from Georgia and Carolina, with their five or six little fires; alternately decaying till they almost disappeared, and then bursting forth with a vivid flame which illumined the intervening space, and flashed on the horses and waggons ranged around: on our right were the Indian wigwams; and before us, at a distance, some acres of pine woods on fire. Yet notwithstanding the strong light which occasionally emanated from so many sources, and the features of the grotesque which the picture certainly contained, the stillness of the night, the deep blue of the sky above us, and the sombre colouring of the heavy forests in which we were enveloped, imparted to this novel scene a character of solemnity which preponderated over every other expression.

We set off as soon as it was light; and passing several creeks, arrived at the extremity of a ridge, from which we looked down into a savannah, in which is situated the Indian town of Co-se-ta, on the Chatahouchy. It appeared to consist of about 100 houses, many of them elevated on poles from two to six feet high, and built of unhewn logs, with roofs of bark, and little patches of Indian corn before the