While we remained at this place Mr. Gabriel Godfrey, a citizen of Detroit, offered the Indians $100 for my ransom, which they refused. I now began to conclude that there were no other means of extricating myself from bondage, unless it were by flight, and therefore determined to embrace the first opportunity that presented. In a few days after, the Indians presented a squaw to me, who appeared to have little more of humanity than the form, but equally as detestable as my _mother_, although she was younger. This ugly looking creature the Indians told me I should marry! I confess I never was so shocked at the thoughts of matrimony in my life! I told them “_no good squaw_.” They then brought several more of those inhuman looking creatures, whom I understood were also candidates for conjugal felicity. I told them “_by’n by I have a squaw_.” This appeared to satisfy them at the present time; in this manner I frequently had to put them off. They frequently solicited me to wear a breech-clout, which I always refused. One time my mother discovered me mending my pantaloons; thinking this a good opportunity to get me to wear one, she immediately brought one, which I took hold of and said “no good,” then threw it down and stamped it. At the sight of this she was very much enraged, and scolded desperately to herself in her own Indian dialect. I have often wondered since that they did not kill me for disobeying their orders, for I was extremely obstinate, and scarcely ever complied with their injunctions. Notwithstanding my disobedience, the Indians treated me as well as was in their power, especially my mother, who was very kind to me. Some considerable time I had to eat my victuals without salt. I knew they had none, yet I would always ask for some. My old mother, after some time, procured some for me, which she kept hid to prevent the others from making use of it, and never failed to give me a small portion when I was eating. Intoxication is practised by the squaws as well as the men; they frequently have drunken frolics, at which times it is dangerous for prisoners to be amongst them. During these frantic revels the prisoners are kept hid by the squaws (a part of whom keep sober) to keep them from being murdered. One night, after the rest had gone to bed, my mother, who had stayed out later than usual, came in, sat down, and began to sing; she did not appear to be in her senses; I soon discovered that this old priestess of Bacchus had got very drunk. In this mood she seized hold of the fire and threw it on those who were sleeping round the fire, which soon caused them to rise; she then jumped into the fire and danced until she had burned the soles of her moccasons off.