btain information for the British commandant
at Detroit; and so earnestly did he insist upon Kenton's being
delivered to him, that the Indians at length consented, upon the express
condition that, after the required information had been obtained, he
should be again restored to their possession. To this Drewyer consented,
and, with out further difficulty, Kenton was transferred to his hands.
Drewyer lost no time in removing him to Detroit. On the road, he
informed Kenton of the condition upon which he had obtained possession
of his person, assuring him, however, that no consideration should
induce him to abandon a prisoner to the mercy of such wretches.

At Detroit, Kenton's condition was not unpleasant. He was obliged to
report himself every morning to an English officer; and was restricted
to certain boundaries through the day. In other respects he scarcely
felt that he was a prisoner. His wounds were healed, and his emaciated
limbs were again clothed with a fair proportion of flesh. He remained in
this state of easy restraint from October, 1777, until June, 1778, when
he meditated an escape.

He cautiously broached his project to two young Kentuckians, then at
Detroit, who had been taken with Boone at the Blue Licks, and had been
purchased by the British. He found them as impatient as himself of
captivity, and resolute to accompany him. He commenced instant
preparations. Having formed a close friendship with two Indian hunters,
he deluged them with rum, and bought their guns for a mere trifle. These
he hid in the woods, and returning to Detroit, managed to procure powder
and ball, with another rifle.

The three prisoners then appointed a night for their attempt, and agreed
upon a place of rendezvous. They met at the time and place appointed,
without discovery, and, taking a circuitous route, avoiding pursuit by
traveling only during the night, they at length arrived safely at
Louisville, after a march of thirty days.

THE DYING VOLUNTEER,

AN INCIDENT OF MOLINO DEL REY.

The sun had risen in all his glorious majesty, and hung over the eastern
horizon like a wall of glowing fire; and its bright rays danced merrily
along the lake of Teseneo--over the glittering domes of Mexico--past the
frowning battlements of Chapultepec, and lit, in all their glorious
effulgence, upon, the blood-stained field of Molino del Rey.

The contest was over--the sound of battle had died away, save an
occasional shot from the dista