My Dear Sally

                       We are yet stationed at this place, but will shortly have to leave it and return home, -- not by the command of Cap't Cornplanter, Wood-Bug, Dogs-about-the-fire, hot-Bread, hot-Ashes, Big-Boil-of a Kettle, Broken-Twig, Standing-Stone, flying-Cloud, Bears-Oil, Mud-eater, Big-fish-carrier, Old-Turkey, The-Tarrepin, Snake, He-can't-find-it, the-stringer-of-***ts, Twenty-Canoes, or any other two-leged King of this country; but by the command of a much more powerful Monarch, who is now making a violent attack upon my fingers, and toes; that is Cap't or King Frost.

                        We are all in a fine state of health, but almost naked for the want of cloaths,   As yet we have been able to keep ourselves moderately warm with Blankets, and Bear-Skins.  As to women, we know nothing about them except by recollection, --we have not seen one of any colour for near four months.    Without joaking I expect we shall certainly receive orders to return in less than two weeks, if not, I shall certainly set out on the fifteenth of this month. . . . for about three months past we have scarcely been out of the sight of the Fort.   From this circumstance my Dear, you suppose that we are in danger near the Fort, and for fear of danger never leave it--  There has not been and Indian seen within twenty miles of this place for almost three months, which is the only reason we have to suppose them not friendly -- we amuse ourselves with playing Checkerds, or what is an infinitely more intricate, and noble game of Chess, which is played on the same board, with Kings, Queens, Bishops, Knights, Castles, and Pawns, -- I have with my own hands, with my Pen-Knife made three complete sets, each consisting of thirty-two pieces, and one half set curiously wrought in bone.

                         There is some discontent among the Troops, and too much sparing among the Officers -- .  .  . 

                                                                    I am my D'r Sally

                                                                                        your Loving

                                                                                                            Husband

My Dear Girl

               .  .  .  This forenoon Mr. Dunbar the Spanish Commissioner myself and Andy spent on the line, -- the afternoon I intended to have dedicated in writing to you; but on our return I found the Tent filled with company-- I wished them a thousand times at the devil.--  They did not leave us till after coffee.--  It is impossible in this country to write after night, and even sometimes in the day, on account of the amazing swarms of flies, Muskeetos and gnats; all thirsting after the blood of man.--  Our beds are all surrounded with a kind of thin curtains called bears to keep them off when we go to rest, --- mine are elegant silk ones.-- 

                        Mr. Gillespie, Andy, and a fine boy in my family by the name of Walker (who I intend for Polly if they live to meet) are the life of our business .  .  .

                        Governor Gayoso paid me a visit a few days ago at my camp in the woods-- We met and saluted in the Spanish manner by kissing!  I had not been shaved for two days--  Mens kissing I think a most abominable custom.--.  .  .  It is now 9 O'Clock at night and my eyes almost put out by the Muskeetoos--

                        May God preserve you and our dear children is the prayer of

                                                                              Your Affectionate Husband