hand, but not being able to give any further information
concerning our friend, Concklin, I thought best to wait a little
before I wrote, still hoping to learn something more definite
concerning him.

We that became acquainted with Seth Concklin and his hazardous
enterprises (here at Cincinnati), who were very few, have felt
intense and inexpressible anxiety about them. And particularly
about poor Seth, since we heard of his falling into the hands of
the tyrants. I fear that he has fallen a victim to their inhuman
thirst for blood.

I seriously doubt the rumor, that he had made his escape. I fear
that he was sacrificed.

Language would fail to express my feelings; the intense and deep
anxiety I felt about them for weeks before I heard of their
capture in Indiana, and then it seemed too much to bear. O! my
heart almost bleeds when I think of it. The hopes of the dear
family all blasted by the wretched blood-hounds in human shape.
And poor Seth, after all his toil, and dangerous, shrewd and
wise management, and almost unheard of adventures, the many
narrow and almost miraculous escapes. Then to be given up to
Indianians, to these fiendish tyrants, to be sacrificed. O!
Shame, Shame!!

My heart aches, my eyes fill with tears, I cannot write more. I
cannot dwell longer on this painful subject now. If you get any
intelligence, please inform me. Friend N.R. Johnston, who took
so much interest in them, and saw them just before they were