Thinking this as favorable an opportunity as we could get, I requested Samuel Ganoe to set off with me; he readily consented, and we set off just at dark, and ran to Detroit, which was eight miles, and got to the house of Mr. H., who concealed us in his cellar. He had a hole dug in the bottom of his cellar six or eight feet deep, for the purpose of keeping potatoes; and in this we were put, and he laid planks over it, and threw dirt on the planks, which caused it to bear so nice a semblance to the other part of the cellar, that the Indians could not distinguish it from the common bottom. This dismal dungeon was our abode for half a day, during which time the Indians came, and searched carefully for us, but in vain. After they were gone, Mr. H. asked a British officer if he would take the care of us. He replied in the affirmative, and then sent us immediately to the fort at Detroit, where we were kept two days, the Indians still searching for us. On the second night about midnight, we were sent to Sandwich, and kept there two days with but little to eat, and then sent to Malden. We found the force at Malden to consist of sixty Canadian French, besides eighty who had received wounds at the River Raisin, and who would no doubt remain invalids for life. We also found stationed at Malden, James Girty, who, I was informed, was brother to the infamous Simon Girty; his business was to receive scalps from the Indians; his pay for this service was three dollars per week. I saw here about half a bushel of scalps in a kettle! the number I cannot guess at. After every exertion to take Fort Meigs had failed, the British returned to Malden, cursing Harrison for a rabbit, which they swore had burrowed, and which they could not take in that situation. From Malden we were taken across to Cleveland, on the 16th day of May, 1813. The following prisoners were with the Indians at the time I was a prisoner, viz.: Major Graves, Jarret Dougherty, Thomas Jones, Joseph Foddre, and John Fightmaster; the latter of whom had deserted from us, was brought back, and made to ride the wooden horse. He then deserted to the Indians, swearing--he had rather stay with them than ride Winchester’s _English mare_ again. I heard of three other prisoners, but do not remember their names; two of whom were about twenty miles from Detroit, and the other near Malden. From Cleveland nothing worth relating occurred until I arrived at home, in Bourbon county, Kentucky; where I found my friends all in good health, my father excepted, who had gone to face the same enemy from whom I had just made my escape. NARRATIVE OF MR. JOHN DAVENPORT.