He asked me if I desired to return to Apalachicola, and thence to New York, or would rather go by way of Columbus, Georgia. I told him that I had a brother in New Orleans, who was proprietor of the “_New Orleans Daily Times_,” and I would like to go to him, as he knew how to nurse me, when the fits were on. He said that he would let his slave Edward take me in his wagon down the banks of the Chattahoochee, to the point where the mail stage passed, on its way to Lagrange, where I could get a steamer to Pensacola, and thence to Mobile and New Orleans. I told him that I had no money. He said he would supply me with enough to defray my expenses to New Orleans. In the morning, while the Overseer was whipping slaves in the yard, I started down the Chattahoochee, and, after an encampment of three nights, reached the road that led to Lagrange. On the following day, the stage arrived, and I left for Lagrange. General James Hamilton, of South Carolina, was a passenger, with whom I had many a pleasant conversation. After a tedious journey through the piny solitudes of Florida, we arrived at Lagrange, and left for Pensacola, in a ricketty steamer, in which we came near being lost in the Gulf of Mexico, in about half a gale. At Pensacola, we took the steamer Champion, and proceeded to Mobile, and thence to New Orleans, by way of Lake Pontchartrain. I boarded with my brother Albert in Poydras street, and worked in his printing office. I learned, through the newspapers, that the Captain left Apalachicola for Havana, but couldn’t find it, and went to Key West—that he left for New York, and was capsized in the Atlantic ocean, and only the second mate was saved, who stated in substance that “six of us were on a raft for nine days, and, after we ate the dog, we drew lots for each other, and that he who drew the shortest piece of shirt from my inclosed hand, should die, but have the privilege of resisting the other five in their attempted slaughter of his body for his blood and flesh as their water and food,—that a Hungarian passenger drew the shortest cut, and fought for his life for two hours, on the raft, which was the roof of the deck cabin, and very large, and could hold twenty men with safety,—that the Hungarian at last fell asleep at midnight, against his will, and we cut his head entirely off, and drank his blood, and ate his flesh, and I never relished any food like the Hungarian’s,—that on the tenth day, the first mate died from eating too heartily of the Hungarian, and on the eleventh day a passenger and sailor died from exhaustion,—that on the twelfth day a vessel came near, and while on a mountain wave just over my head, the cook discovered myself and the last sailor down in the cavern of the ocean,—the cook screamed,—the helmsman discovered us,—a rope was cast, and I seized it, and tied it around me,—another is thrown,—I tied it around my comrade, and gave the signal to hoist away, and up we went into the vessel, but, alas! my sailor boy was