These were Indians, and they were very hospitable to Smyth. He gave them the stone buckle and gold lace from the crown of his hat. “They seemed much pleased with the present and made signs for me to sit down and eat with them. This I readily complied with, and partook of a repast which consisted of venison, kernels of hickory nuts and wallnuts, all mixed together with wild honey, and every one eat with his hands. Having a keen appetite I eat very heartily, which seemed to afford a particular satisfaction to my hospitable savage friends, for such indeed they were to me.” Smyth spent the night with these warriors (they were really on the war path), and the next morning one of them put him into the way to Beaver Creek, upon Smith’s River, in what was then Pittsylvania County. Along Leatherwood Creek, Captain Smyth, the bold tourist, saw several fine plantations deserted of the owners. The cattle and horses were wandering about and presented a very mournful, melancholy appearance. Reports of the movements of the Indians had driven the inhabitants to the fort on Smith’s River. About eight miles beyond Leatherwood Creek (Patrick Henry lived on that stream for a year or two after the Revolution) a man appeared on horseback, whose horse was covered with foam and sweat. He was astonished beyond measure when Smyth told him he had come from the Sawra Towns and had eaten and slept with a party of Indians. “In riding about two or three miles further I at length came to the fort itself, which contained all the inhabitants of the country around. I was exceedingly happy at the thought of being once more among inhabitants, but this imaginary felicity was of very short duration, for when I went to the gate of the fort expecting to go in, I was positively refused admittance. They within insisted that I was an enemy or a Frenchman because I had been in company with the Indians and had escaped unmolested, and also as my accent was different from theirs. This I found they were informed of by the man I met on horseback, and who turned back full speed as soon as I acquainted him of my having been with the Indians. I continued to entreat for admittance until they threatened to fire upon me if I did not retire, which made me withdraw from the gate to consider what steps I must pursue, for I never found myself in so singular and unpleasant a predicament in my life. I wandered round and round this fortress until night began to advance, and then ventured to approach the gate once more. They again threatening to shoot me, I assured them that I would as soon be killed by them as by the Indians, and solemnly swore I would set fire to the stockades. Upon this I was desired to wait a few minutes, until they consulted together; at the conclusion of which they agreed to admit me. The wicker gate was then opened and I crept in.” The conditions inside, of necessity, were not very agreeable.