"In the upper part of the town of Ringsey I attended a funeral. After meeting I rode nine miles to attend an appointment in the lower part of the town. Though the state of feeling was generally low, it was a solemn, refreshing time. Early on Friday morning as I was about to visit my friends in that place, a military officer sent a man, accompanied by a large brawny Indian, to make me a prisoner, and carry me to the county seat of justice, at the Three Rivers, for the offence I had committed against the government, in leaving the country in time of war. This was done although the Governor had issued proclamation that all who had thus left might return in peace. Prisoners of war in time of peace struck me as something new. I asked the person who made me a prisoner what authority he had for so doing; he answered, that he was an officer, and, without showing any proof of his right to act for the government, ordered me immediately to get into the birch canoe, and go with them by water. I candidly informed him that I should not start for the Rivers without authority, and that if I went in the _mode_ of conveyance proposed, under a guard of savages, it would be by force. Finding that I was not alarmed, and that he could not proceed, he then started for the residence of Capt. Moor, about one mile distant, to procure a warrant, and left the savage to guard me. I soon proposed to the red man that I would accompany him on my horse to Capt. Moor's; but fearing that I might ride by, he ran on foot with all speed. When I arrived, the captain had the warrant nearly made out, but, instead of finishing it, met me in a rage. He would not hear to a word of reason, nor to the advice of his friends. After I saw that I must go, I asked the privilege of riding my horse, at the same time offering to hire some of the keepers to go with me by land. The captain replied that he would not grant me the least favor, and the officer said I should go in the birch canoe. As I gave no assent to this method, I was seized by the shoulder and violently dragged out of the door, and beyond what language can paint was abused by the zealous officer. He boldly threatened my life, and accompanied by words of the coarsest profanity, said, 'Damn your blood, I will take your life as quick as I would a rattlesnake's.' After the officer had said this, I addressed the captain in these words: 'Sir I am much surprised that you should thus cause a prisoner to be abused, and that you should put me into the hands of a person at the head of a party of savages, who has threatened my life before your face.' Instead of acting on any idea of propriety suggested by me, he broke forth in swearing, saying that he himself would