About one o’clock the baggage and all things being ready, Ostenaco took leave of his friends, tho’ this ceremony is unusual among them, and we began our march sooner than I expected. Passing thro’ Toqua, we saw several Indians weeping for the death of their relations, killed in the late battle. In an hour’s time we arrived at Chote, where we found a great number of headmen assembled to give us a talk, containing instructions to my Indian conductors, to remind the English of their promises of friendship, and to press the Governor of Virginia to open a trade; for the Indians to behave well to the inhabitants when they arrived, as that was the only way to keep the chain of friendship bright; that we should keep a good look-out, as the enemy were very numerous on the path. What occasioned this precaution, and probably Ostenaco’s delaying his departure so long, was, the defeat of a party of about thirty Indians, who went cut to war some time before, the same way that we were to go, eight of whom had been killed or taken. They attributed this loss to the want of arrows, the northern Indians having poured several vollies of arrows, and done great execution, before the Cherokees could charge again, after the first fire. This was especially disadvantageous to the Cherokees, as both parties met unexpectedly on the top of a mountain, which they were both crossing, and engaged so close, that the northern Indians availed themselves of this advantage, and the superiority of their numbers. Two pieces of cannon were fired when we had got about 200 yards from the town-house, after which Ostenaco sung the war-song, in which was a prayer for our safety thro’ the intended journey; this he bellowed out loud enough to be heard at a mile’s distance. We did not march above three miles before we encamped, in order to give time to some Indians who were to accompany us, but had not yet joined us, which they did in the evening, about fourteen or fifteen in number. Next morning, the 11th of March, we rose tolerably early, marching to Little River, about twenty miles from the nation, where we encamped. At this place had formerly been an Indian town, called Elajoy; and I am surprised how the natives should ever abandon so beautiful and fertile a spot. Were it in a more polished country, it would make the finest situation for a gentleman’s seat I ever saw. We marched the next day to Broad River, which we crossed about four o’clock in the afternoon, without much difficulty, by reason of the lowness of the waters; but the river, which is here 700 yards over, runs with great rapidity, and the banks extremely steep on either side. We encamped directly, and were all employed in making a large fire to dry ourselves, as most of us had got very wet.