Listening For A Moment, I Heard This Distinguished General Exclaiming Vociferously, And Belabouring The Poor Negro Heavily With A Raw-Hide Whip; Most Likely Venting The Spleen He Felt At His Non-Success Against The Indians, The Expedition Having Hitherto Been Unsuccessful.

The poor negro had offended his master, by some trivial act, no doubt, and in southern style he was correcting him, without much regard, it is true, to publicity.

This, in southern latitudes, is so common, that it is thought little of; and the occurrence caused on this occasion only a passing remark from those present. The negro was his own, and he had a right, it was stated, to correct him, as and when he pleased; who could dispute it? For my own part, I entertained the most abhorrent feelings towards a man, who, without sense of shame, or decent regard for his station, thus unblushingly published his infamy amongst strangers, and this man a would-be patriot, too, and candidate for the Presidential chair, which, it will be remembered, he afterwards obtained. I was told that flogging his negroes was a favourite pastime with this eminently-distinguished general, and that he was by no means liked by his officers or men. His appearance bespoke his tyrannical disposition; and this, coupled with incapacity, there is little doubt, conduced to make it necessary for him to relinquish his command of the army of the south, which he did not long after, being succeeded, I believe, by General Armstead.

As I mentioned before, the force that accompanied him was in forlorn case, reminding me strongly of Shakspere's description of Falstaff's ragged regiment. It consisted chiefly of raw, undrilled troops, quite unused to discipline, but, perhaps, as effective as veterans in the service in which they were employed, the adroitness of the enemy, accustomed to the interminable swamps, hammocks, and cane-brakes which abound in this country, quite paralyzing the energies of the men, and destroying that _esprit du corps_ without which no success can be expected in an army.

Several Indian sachems or chiefs accompanied the command; these were fine-looking fellows, but appeared exhausted from long marching through the wilderness One of these, named Powell, particularly attracted my notice; he was a very interesting young man, of feminine aspect, and little resembling his stalwart companions. He had originally been captured, but by kind treatment had been brought over to friendly views, and was now acting as a guide. It was stated that his father was much incensed against him, and had employed emissaries to despatch him secretly. A few months after this campaign I heard that he was shot while out hunting; no doubt, at the instigation of his unnatural parent, who preferred his death to his continuing in league with white men.

Leaving Fort Andrews, I now pushed onward to Deadman's Bay. The country we passed through was much the same as I have before described; the journey took us the better part of two days. On the way we saw a herd of wild cattle, which scoured the plain in consternation on espying our party; urging on our horses, we tried to bring one down, but they outstripped us.

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