at Fort King-forty miles distant from the scene of Dade's massacre-that the commissioner fell before his vow of vengeance!

CHAPTER LXVII.

THE BATTLE OF OUITHLACOOCHEE.

The murder of the commissioner called for some act of prompt retribution. Immediately after its occurrence, several expresses had been despatched by different routes to Camp Drane-some of whom fell into the hands of the enemy, while the rest arrived safely with the news.

By daybreak of the following morning the army, more than a thousand strong, was in motion; and marching towards the Amazura. The avowed object of this expedition was to strike a blow at the families of the hostile Indians-their fathers and mothers, their wives, sisters, and children-whose lurking-place amidst the fastnesses of the great swamp-the Cove' -had become known to the general. It was intended they should be captured, if possible, and held as hostages until the warriors could be induced to surrender.

With all others who could be spared from the fort, I was ordered to accompany the expedition, and accordingly joined it upon the march. From the talk I heard around me, I soon discovered the sentiment of the soldiery. They had but little thought of making captives. Exasperated by what had taken place at the fort-further exasperated by what they called 'Dade's massacre,' I felt satisfied that they would not stay to take prisoners-old men or young men, women or children, all would alike be slain—no quarter would be given.

I was sick even at the prospect of such a wholesale carnage as was anticipated. Anticipated, I say, for all confidently believed it would take place. The hiding-place of these unfortunate families had become known-there were guides conducting us thither who knew the very spot-how could we fail to reach it?

An easy surprise was expected. Information had been received that the warriors, or most of them, were absent upon another and more distant expedition, and in a quarter where we could not possibly encounter them. We were to make a descent upon the nest in the absence of the eagles; and with this intent the army was conducted by silent and secret marches.

But the day before, our expedition would have appeared easy enough-a mere exciting frolic, without peril of any kind; but the news of Dade's defeat had produced a magical effect upon the spirits of the soldiers, and whilst it exasperated, it had also cowed them. For the first time, they began to feel something like a respect for their foe, mingled perhaps with a little dread of him. The Indians, at least, knew how to kill.

This feeling increased as fresh messengers came in from the scene of Dade's conflict, bringing new details of that sanguinary affair. It was not without some apprehension, then, that the soldier marched onward, advancing into the heart of the enemy's country; and even the reckless volunteer kept close in the ranks as he rode silently along.

About mid-day we reached the banks of the Amazura. The stream had to be crossed before the Cove could be reached, for the vast net-work of swamps and lagoons bearing this name extended from the opposite side.

A ford had been promised the general, but the guides were at fault-no crossing-place could be found. At the point where we reached it, the river ran past broad, black, and deep-too deep to be waded even by our horses.

Were the guides playing traitor, and misleading

us? It certainly began to assume that appearance; but no-it could not be. They were Indians, it is true, but well proved in their devotion to the whites. Besides, they were men compromised with the national party-doomed to death by their own people -our defeat would have been their ruin.

It was not treason, as shewn afterwards-they had simply been deceived by the trails, and had gone the wrong way.

It was fortunate for us they had done so! But for this mistake of the guides, the army of General Clinch might have been called upon to repeat on a larger scale the drama so lately enacted by Dade and his companions.

Had we reached the true crossing, some two miles further down, we should have entered an ambush of the enemy, skilfully arranged by that same leader who so well understood his forest tactics. The report of the warriors having gone on a distant expedition was a mere ruse, the prelude to a series of strategic manœuvres devised by Oçeola.

The Indians were at that moment where we should have been, but for the mistake of the guides. The ford was beset upon both sides by the foe-the warriors lying unseen like snakes among the grass, ready to spring forth the moment we should attempt the crossing. Fortunate it was for Clinch and his army that our guides possessed so little skill.

The general acted without this knowledge at the time-else, had he known the dangerous proximity, his behaviour might have been different. As it was, a halt was ordered; and, after some deliberation, it was determined we should cross the river at the point where the army had arrived.

Some old boats were found, 'sceows,' with a number of Indian canoes. These would facilitate the transport of the infantry, while the mounted men could swim over upon their horses.

Rafts of logs were soon knocked together, and the passage of the stream commenced. The manœuvre was executed with considerable adroitness, and in less than an hour one half of the command had crossed.

I was among those who got first over; but I scarcely congratulated myself on the success of the enterprise. I felt sad at the prospect of being soon called upon to aid in the slaughter of defenceless people-of women and children-for around me there was no other anticipation. It was with a feeling of positive relief, almost of joy, that I heard that wild war-cry breaking through the woods-the well-known Yo-ho-ehee of the Seminoles.

Along with it came the ringing detonations of rifles, the louder report of musketry; while bullets, histling through the air, and breaking branches from the surrounding trees, told us that we were assailed in earnest, and by a large force of the enemy.

That portion of the army already over had observed the precaution to post itself in a strong position among heavy timber that grew near the river-bank; and on this account the first volley of the Indians produced a less deadly effect. For all that, several fell; and those who were exposed to view were still in danger.

The fire was returned by the troops, repeated by the Indians, and again answered by the soldiers-now rolling continuously, now in straggling volleys or single shots, and at intervals altogether ceasing.

For a long while but little damage was done on either side; but it was evident that the Indians, under cover of the underwood, were working themselves into a more advantageous position-in fact, surrounding us. The troops, on the other hand, dared not stir from the spot where they had landed, until a larger number should cross over. After that, it was intended we should advance, and force the Indians from the covert at the point of the bayonet.

The troops from the other side continued to cross.

Hitherto, they had been protected by the fire of those already over; but at this crisis a manœuvre was effected by the Indians, that threatened to put an end to the passing of the river, unless under a destructive fire from their rifles.

Just below our position, a narrow strip of land jutted out into the stream, forming a miniature peninsula. It was a sand-bar caused by an eddy on the opposite side. It was lower than the main bank, and bare of timber-except at its extreme point, where a sort of island had been formed, higher than the peninsula itself. On this island grew a thick grove of evergreen trees-palms, live-oaks, and magnolias -in short, a hommock.

It would have been prudent for us to have occupied this hommock at the moment of our first crossing over; but our general had not perceived the advantage. The Indians were not slow in noticing it; and before we could take any steps to hinder them, a body of warriors rushed across the isthmus, and took possession of the hommock.

The result of this skilful manœuvre was soon made manifest. The boats, in crossing, were swept down by the current within range of the wooded islet-out of whose evergreen shades was now poured a continuous stream of blue fiery smoke, while the leaden missiles did their work of death. Men were seen dropping down upon the rafts, or tumbling over the sides of the canoes, with a heavy plunge upon the water, that told they had ceased to live; while the thick fire of musketry that was directed upon the hommock altogether failed to dislodge the daring band who occupied it.

There were but few of them-for we had seen them distinctly as they ran over the isthmus-but it was evident they were a chosen few, skilled marksmen every man. They were dealing destruction at every shot.

It was a moment of intense excitement. Elsewhere the conflict was carried on with more equality—since both parties fought under cover of the trees, and but little injury was sustained or inflicted by either. The band upon the islet were killing more of our men than all the rest of the enemy.

There was no other resource than to dislodge them from the hommock-to drive them forth at the bayonet's point-at least this was the design that now suggested itself to the commander-in-chief.

It seemed a forlorn-hope. Whoever should approach from the land-side would receive the full fire of the concealed enemy-be compelled to advance under a fearful risk of life.

To my surprise, the duty was assigned to myself. Why, I know not-since it could not be from any superior courage or ardour I had hitherto evinced in the campaign. But the order came from the general, direct and prompt; and with no great spirit I prepared to execute it.

With a party of rifles-scarcely outnumbering the enemy we were to attack at such serious disadvantage -I started forth for the peninsula.

I felt as if marching upon my death, and I believe that most of those who followed me were the victims of a similar presentiment. Even though it had been a certainty, we could not now turn back; the eyes of the whole army were upon us. We must go forward-we must conquer or fall.

In a few seconds we were upon the island, and advancing by rapid strides towards the hommock. We had hopes that the Indians might not have perceived our approach, and that we should get behind them

unawares.

They were vain hopes. Our enemies had been watchful; they had observed our manoeuvre from its beginning; had faced round, and were waiting with rifles loaded, ready to receive us.

But half conscious of our perilous position, we pressed forward, and had got within twenty yards of the grove, when the blue smoke and red flame suddenly jetted forth from the trees. I heard the bullets shower past my ears; I heard the cries and groans of my followers, as they fell thickly behind me. I looked around-I saw that every one of them was stretched upon the ground, dead or dying!

At the same instant a voice reached me from the grove :

'Go back, Randolph! go back! By that symbol upon your breast your life has been spared; but my braves are chafed, and their blood is hot with fighting. Tempt not their anger. Away! away!'

A curious communication, by M. Baroulier, has been sent in to the Academy of Sciences, describing a method for obtaining a substance possessing all the properties of coal. It is a fact generally admitted by geologists, that coal is the result of the carbonisation of vegetable matter by heat under a strong pressure, and under circumstances calculated to impede the escape of their volatile ingredients. M. Baroulier proceeds in a similar manner; he envelops vegetable matter in wet clay, and exposes it for a considerable length of time to a great pressure, and to a heat of between 200 and 300 degrees centigrade (or the melting-points of tin and bismuth nearly). Various kinds of saw-dust, subjected to this treatment, yielded different substances, possessing more or less the resinous lustre and colour of coal, and burning with a bright flame.— Newspaper paragraph.

Printed and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster Row, LONDON, and 339 High Street, EDINBURGH. Also sold by WILLIAM ROBERTSON, 23 Upper Sackville Street, DUBLIN, and all Booksellers.

may obtain in the mind of a youth by diligent boring; and if it were always to be exercised in the antitobacco direction, there would perhaps be little cause to regret it.

He, however, seldom rests satisfied until he has separated us from the companions of our own age and choice; made us engage a seat for a term of years at his particular chapel; withdrawn us from our own profession, and placed us in the office of one of his relatives who generously receives us without premium, but gains at the same time our gratuitous services for an indefinite time; and finally married us to his niece, after which we cease to be responsible beings, and only by the visibly increased importance of our too highly respectable acquaintance-the external swelling of the monster consequent upon the total absorption of its victim-announce our own existence at all.

I first met with my own Mentor, who may very well stand for a type of all his class, at a great Whitebait dinner at Blackwall. I was a lad then only just escaped from school, and of course entirely ignorant of how to conduct myself aright at such a solemnity. Instead of husbanding my magnificent appetite in the proper manner, I actually commenced operations by going twice to Turtle as well as to the iced Punch which goes along with it, like music with words. A reverend sage, however, portly and dignified, but with an eye which seemed benign, who sat on my right hand, interposed judiciously, and arrested for the time what would have been-and was eventually-a very serious catastrophe.

'Young man,' said he, in unctuous but impressive tones, 'beware of what you do. Appetite, a gift vouchsafed by the gods to youth, and to youth alone (he sighed), is a talent which, misapplied and recklessly wasted, is almost worse than apathy to food. There is many a man of matured judgment who would have given twice the cost per head of this entertainmentand that will not be less than three guineas, if so little -for the power which you have just been manifesting with regard to that soup. But consider what is to follow; think of the Future, my dear young friend, and guide yourself at all times by the carte. See here, what an enormous distance-no less than five courses off-is that whitebait which we are nominally assembled here to eat. Does the prudent rider, however confident of his generous steed, urge it to full career at the first beginning of the race, or, far less, compel it to surmount any fence a second time? Be temperate, my dear young friend, and restrain your natural impetuosity, or, take my word for it, you will be exceedingly ill.'

My highly respectable acquaintance spoke like a book; his prophecy was not unfulfilled. The last thing which I remember, before I succumbed to the various unaccustomed influences of that whitebait feast, was the spectacle of this gentleman refreshing the tips of his ears by means of a napkin dipped in rose-water-'A device, my young friend, very noteworthy, as oftentimes renewing the enjoyment of food when your case would seem otherwise hopeless.'

I have reason to suspect that, upon the golden grace-cup being handed round on that occasion, I behaved myself somewhat indecorously, and instead of bowing in a stately manner to my opposite neighbour over the goblet, that I put its cover on the top of my head after the Chinese manner, and winked at him. My highly respectable acquaintance hinted at least at something of the sort next day, but blandly added that, being touched with my youth and inexperience, he had made it right with the company. From that moment the yoke was placed upon my neck. This terribly bland old gentleman, with all his faults and weaknesses, became my Old Man of the Sea. Ridicule itself in vain attempted to shake the throne of my

tyrant. My once familiar friend, Dick Wildotes, discovered to me the following incident in the past life of my self-constituted guardian, in the vain hope that such a knowledge would set me free. He told me that Mr Pawkins-which was my too highly respectable acquaintance's inoffensive title-was called by his equals although I did not then believe in the existence of such persons-Presence-of-mind Pawkins;' and he also told me why. My Mentor never narrated the anecdote in my hearing, but, as I am given to understand that he has often done so with much complacency, there is no harm in my retailing it.

Mr Pawkins, then, was once in a pleasure-boat with some ladies out at sea, the only male in the company, and one of his fair companions had the misfortune to fall overboard. It must have been long indeed before the crinoline epoch; but something or other of that nature buoyed the unfortunate young woman up, so that she was able to take hold of the boat. This was the opportunity which my too highly respectable acquaintance seized to make himself & name, as above. 'I saw,' said he, that the boat was a very frail one; I perceived that the young lady's admission amongst us over the gunwale would very probably upset and drown us all; therefore, although I deeply sympathised with her in her misadventure, I caught hold of an oar, and, with the greatest presence of mind, rapped away at her knuckles until she let go.' Wherefore he is well called Presence-ofmind Pawkins until this day. I felt that this was by no means a creditable achievement; but the man was still a hero to me. He had somewhat fanatical views upon religious questions, Dick used to tell me, but I went to my too respectable acquaintance's house of worship for all that. He possessed a great deal of house-property, and had christened an entire street of his Agur's Buildings;' instead of calling it after the name of Mr Plumlines, who was the actual architect. 'Agur's prayer,' he observed, 'was for neither riches nor poverty, and these buildings are only for the middling class of people.' I could not but see the vulgarity of this sort of practical piety, but I felt obliged to forgive my eminent house-proprietor even that.

I ascribe my first determined aspirations after freedom to the continuance of the late war in the Crimea; but for that and the unparalleled sufferings to which it exposed me, I might be still bearing my chain; it galled me, however, in such a manner during that epoch, that I was resolved at any hazard to be freed from it. Upon the subject of that campaign, I repeat, my too highly respectable acquaintance out-Pawkinsed Pawkins, bored me beyond the limits of human endurance. Upon every commander, and upon every military movement, he gave an opinion as tedious and as positive as though he had been paid thirty guineas a sheet for it. The late Lord Raglan haunted me like a dreadful phantasm; the very names of Lucan and Cardigan became to me as the beer which has been left in yesterday's tumbler; the bare mention of the Times-whose conduct I admired in secret because he hated it-was to my ill-used ears like Cayenne pepper to the back of a flogged soldier. At last, at a little breakfast-party in my own apartments, whither he came, uninvited, to tread upon me, and patronise the rest of the company, he overstepped all limits, and presented me, involuntarily, with my manumission. The conversation having been directed into the usual Crimean channel, my poor friend Wildotes had the temerity to give it as his opinion that the Sebastopol garrison would continue to have provisions supplied to them in abundance.

'What, sir!' roared my too highly respectable acquaintance, chafed with unwonted opposition, 'why, how should that be, when even now, in Archangel,

I am not sure about the number; it may have been fifteen or fifty, but I am certain about 'roubles the chet wort.'

'I do not know what a chetwort is,' cried Wildotes angrily, and I don't believe that you know either.'

I trembled at the audacity of this young man; but the ground-floor, upon which we happened to be, remained firm beneath us nevertheless; and presently, upon the production of a tobacco-pipe, my too highly respectable acquaintance left his youthful enemy in the possession of the field.

'I congratulate you, my dear fellow,' cried Wildotes as the door closed with rather a slam behind that portly figure-'my friend, you are a free man.'

'Sir,' said I with indignation, it is you that are free, and even impertinent. How am I to defend myself, think you, when Mr Pawkins catches me alone?'

My position had indeed become such that no choice remained between bidding an open defiance to my too highly respectable acquaintance, or becoming his cringing slave for the remainder of one of our lives. Wildotes and myself, therefore, having resolved ourselves into a committee of private safety, determined upon a course of action which had for its object the immediate dropping of my philosopher and guide.

Our arrangements being completed, I remained in my own apartment, awaiting his august presence in a frame of mind far from enviable; not, as I well knew, that he would manifest any signs of anger-his feelings, when irritated, always taking the much more fatal form of injured virtue-but because he would be sure to proceed to absorb me, with a more than usual amount of previous lubrication. 'My dear young friend, in whom I take so great an interest,' and 'the son of my esteemed old friend' (he travelled in the company of my father once, in an Islington omnibus), were, as I expected, among the opening expressions of his harangue; then he bewailed my choice of associates, and my habits of extravagance exemplified in having hot meats at breakfast (of which he had partaken, by the by, himself, with considerable relish); he predicted my certain ruin if I continued in these courses instead of sticking to my desk. As he pronounced this prediction, he approached that article of furniture, upon which a small square piece of card was lying, half-covered by a pen-wiper, as though it courted obscurity. This card he took up and waved in his hand, as was his frequent custom, in order to give effect to his oratory. I turned pale with agitation, and protested that it was a private document. Mr Pawkins observed in reply that, considering our mutual relations, there could be no such thing as any privacy in documents, and then perused it with attention.

It was now his turn to grow pale.

'Is it possible, young man,' cried he, when he had quite finished it, that this can be yours? Have I nourished you in my bosom so long'

'Mr Pawkins,' said I, plucking up all my courage, with the knowledge that Wildotes was in the cupboard listening to us, 'you have done nothing of the sort.' 'In my bosom so long,' continued Mentor, as though unconscious of the interruption, without rendering you incapable of possessing such a '

'Sir,' cried I, as he approached the fire with the evident intention of destroying the memorandum, 'that paper is a legal tender; it has a value expressed upon it of three pounds, fourteen shillings, and sixpence: if that is consumed, we shall have to pay the money.'

We!' ejaculated my too highly respectable acquaintance with contempt, but altering his fell purpose nevertheless-""we," young man, did you

profligate, I abandon you for ever.'

My Mentor left the apartment with quite a halo of respectability surrounding the very back of his head. 'Wildotes,' cried I, as the young man burst from his concealment, 'my friend, my benefactor, I will give you a dinner; your ingenious device has saved me from all further persecution; I have dropped for ever my too highly respectable acquaintance!'

And so, in truth, I had; the simple medium of this effectual release having been merely a pawnbroker's ticket.

In conclusion, I need scarcely add that, in publishing this veracious history, I have no sort of intention of throwing ridicule upon that friendship which is found to exist not seldom between an old man and a youth. Than such a feeling, born of a kindly regard upon the one side, and of an affectionate respect upon the other, there seem to me few things more beautiful. But where there is no real regard, but only officiousness, against which, whatever real respect there be, must needs be sooner or later chafed away, where dictation is in the place of authority, and a spirit of meddling in that of kind solicitude, the spectacle of an unfortunate young man with a too highly respectable acquaintance is pitiable to see.

HISTORICAL SKETCH OF SOLAR SPOTS. Most persons who have enjoyed the opportunity of looking through a telescope, are probably acquainted with the appearance of the sun as seen magnified through a dark glass, and will agree with our poetlaureate when he says:

The very source and fount of day

Is dashed with wandering isles of night. These 'wandering isles,' commonly called spots on the sun, especially arrested the attention of astronomers immediately after the invention and use of the telescope, in the beginning of the seventeenth century. The interest which attaches to the history of these appearances is greatly enhanced from the fact, that by means of them the rotation of the sun is conclusively proved. Careful observations of the spots, and of their paths at different times of the year across the sun's disc, give for the period of rotation about 25 days, and for the inclination of the solar equator to the ecliptic, about 74°. Occasionally, the spots are sufficiently large to be visible to the naked eye. Galileo, in a letter dated August 1612, mentions that he and many of his friends perceived one, without the intervention of a telescope, on three successive days. A very large one was seen by different persons in April 1764, and again in 1769; and many other instances might be cited, down to 1853, in June of which year one was distinctly seen at sunset. It appears, then, very possible that these phenomena were observed at a much earlier period; and we might expect to discover some notice of them in the annals of different countries. This we find to be the case. The Chinese astronomers relate having observed some spots on the sun in the year 321 of our era; the Spanish conquerors of Peru found that the natives had observed them before their existence was known in Europe. These are almost the only instances of any explicit mention of them; but extraordinary appearances of the sun are found recorded which might perhaps be explained by the presence of a large number of spots. In the annals of France, a historian of the life of Charlemagne relates that, on the 17th day of March 807, the star Mercury was seen on the sun as a small black spot, during eight days. This puzzled Kepler not a little, for he proved satisfactorily that no transit of Mercury could have occurred at that time; he remarked, moreover, that