We procured three stout nags, and early in the morning crossed the very fine bridge which spans this rapid stream close to the falls. On the Alabama side we found ourselves within a wild-looking village, scattered through the edge of the forest, bearing the unattractive name of Sodom; few of its denizens were yet stirring; they are composed chiefly of "minions o' the moon," outlaws from the neighbouring States. Gamblers, and other desperate men, here find security from their numbers, and from the vicinity of a thinly inhabited Indian country, whose people hold them in terror, yet dare not refuse them a hiding-place. These bold outlaws, I was informed, occasionally assemble to enjoy an evening's frolic in Columbus, on which occasions they cross the dividing bridge in force, all armed to the teeth: the warrants in the hands of the U. S. Marshal are at such times necessarily suspended, since to execute a caption would require a muster greater than any within his command. If unmolested, the party usually proceed to the nearest hotel, drink deeply, make what purchases they require for the ladies of their colony, pay promptly, and, gathering the stragglers together, retire peaceably into the territory, wherein their present rule is by report absolute. The condition of this near community, and the crimes perpetrated by its members, were alluded to within the town with a mingled sentiment of detestation and fear. A short way within the forest we overtook a man riding a rough pony, of whom I inquired the best route to be pursued for falling in with the Indian settlements; the man immediately volunteered to ride with us for a few hours; adding, that he saw we were strangers from the North; that he was "a Vermont man himself, and had nothing particular to do just then." This was a lucky rencontre: the volunteer guide we thus secured appeared perfectly familiar with every turn of the numberless narrow footpaths leading from one location to another; and, under his guidance, we visited several.