Here, being informed that General White was only twenty-five miles distant up the river, he sent him a despatch to hasten, at once, to the fort. In the mean time, General Coffee, who had returned successful from his southern expedition, was sent to attack a large body of Indians at Tallushatchee, some thirty miles distant. With nine hundred men, this gallant officer advanced, and succeeded in completely surrounding them; and though the savages fought desperately to the last, but few escaped. A hundred and eighty warriors lay stretched around the ashes of their dwellings. Among the slain, was a mother, on whose bosom her infant boy was found, struggling in vain to draw nourishment from the lifeless breast. When he was brought to camp, Jackson endeavored to persuade some of the female captives to take care of him, but they all refused, saying, "His relations are all dead, kill him too." He then ordered some sugar to be given him, and sent him to Huntsville, where he could be properly cared for. He afterwards adopted him, gave him a good education, and placed him at a saddler's to learn a trade. The latter was accustomed to spend every Sunday at the Hermitage, with his adopted father, who was strongly attached to him. But he always pined for the free, wild life of his race. The close air of the shop and the drudgery of an apprentice did not agree with him, and he soon after sickened. He was then taken home to the Hermitage, where he lingered some time, and died. At length, on the 7th of November, an Indian runner arrived in camp, stating that Fort Talladega, about thirty miles distant, was surrounded by the hostile Red-sticks, and if he did not hurry to its relief, the friendly Indians, who had taken refuge in it must be massacred. The runner had scarcely finished his message when the order to march was issued, and in a few minutes the columns were in motion. It was midnight, and through the dim cathedrals of nature, lighted only by the stars of heaven, Jackson led his two thousand men towards the Talladega. Eight hundred of these were mounted riflemen, who presented a picturesque appearance, as they wound slowly along the rough forest path underneath the autumnal woods, each with unceasing watchfulness, piercing the surrounding gloom, and every hand grasping a trusty rifle. Their heavy tramp frightened the wild beasts from their lairs, and awoke strange echoes in the solitude. Now straining up steep ascents, and now swimming deep rivers, the fearless and gallant band pressed forward. In three columns, so as to prevent the confusion that might arise from a sudden surprise, it forced its difficult way through the forest, and at night arrived within six miles of the besieged fort. Here Jackson halted, and sent forward two friendly Indians and a white man, to reconnoitre. About eleven o'clock they returned, and reported the enemy in great force, and within a quarter of a mile of the fort. No time was to be lost, and though the