Reinforcements.
When he awoke, yet half dreaming, Dunlap gazed about him some time before he could "realize the situation." With great effort he arose, staggered forward, but fell against a larger stone, and here, to his delight, he heard the trickling of water. Quickly he sought to slake his burning thirst, and soon found, and enjoyed, what seemed ice water in a canebrake in August. He drank until every desire for water was satisfied, yet none of the unpleasant feelings that often follow such indulgence were experienced. On the contrary, he felt new life and vigor, and set out to place a greater distance between himself and his enemies. His only safe course he knew, was to travel in a northerly direction, and, after imbibing another copious draught from the welcome fountain, he set out, toiling through the cane that covered the bottom. When he was about reaching the northern edge of this dense retreat, a well known signal greeted his ear. To this he responded. His response was replied to by another signal, when he quickly emerged from the brake, ascended the hill; and on approaching a large oak then standing on the site of the present Elder Hotel, was greeted thus:
"Hallo, Gabe! whar did you cum from? Have you been squattin' in the thicket yonder?"
"I'll be smashed," answered Dunlap, "If here aint Jube Cochran. And, Jube, I'm gladder to see you than if I had knocked out a panther's eye with old Betsey here, and without picking her flint, on a two hundred yard line. Cause why—I'm lost and aint nowhar ef you aint some place."
And next the two friends met with a hearty shake of hands and a union of warm hearts, such as conventionalities and civilization have long since driven from the brightest spot in Georgia. The huntsmen refreshed the inner man, recounted their several recent adventures, and then sought a place of rest, which they soon found among the rocks skirting the river.
Here they slept until midnight, when the report of a gun aroused them. Snuffing danger in the breeze, they at once not only became watchful, but sought to discover the whereabouts of their daring neighbor; and finally, in the darkness, almost ran against two human forms, whether paleface or Indian they could not make out, when Cochran hailed:
"Who's thar?"
"Watson," was the reply, and soon there was another happy greeting; when all four of the party (one a small boy named Ben Fitzpatrick) walked to the top of the hill between two creeks, and again rested until day break, reciting the customary yarns of the border.
Douglas Watson was about eighteen years of age, six feet in height, and boasted of possessing a well developed muscular frame. His companion, Fitzpatrick, was an orphan boy, who had the temerity common to adventurous youth to follow Watson in these wilds.
Seated by their camp fire Dunlap explained to Watson the invigorating effect the water in the canebrake, at the foot of the hills, had had upon him in his fainting condition the day previous, when the whole party again sought the cooling spring, and, after search, found it. This was Indian Spring, and this was the first party of whites who are known to have drunk of its water. At this gathering Watson admitted to his comrades that about a month previous he had found the spring, but in consequence of its smelling like gunpowder he fled the vicinity.
Watson and Cochran were scouts, sent out by the Government in the Spring of 1792. Fitzpatrick was the shadow of Watson; and Dunlap divulged to his new friends his history and mission while they lingered around the spring.