The narration of the circumstances which led to the discovery of Matthew Brayton by his relatives requires us to go back a little from the point to which his account has brought the reader. The intervening years between the loss of Matthew Brayton by his relatives and the present time have caused many changes in the neighborhood once so excited in consequence of that loss. The red men clung for many years to their last foothold in Ohio. Four years after the loss of the boy, the Delawares left their village below Upper Sandusky, and set out for their new homes farther west. Two years afterwards the Senecas extinguished their council fires and sought a resting place nearer the Rocky Mountains. But the Wyandots held tenaciously to their homes, and eighteen years passed away before they finally consented to abandon Ohio to the exclusive occupation of the white race.

Fine farms now cover the site of the waste land and woods over and through which the weary hunt for the missing boy was conducted day after day. Towns and villages have sprung up where humble log cabins here and there stood in the incipient clearing, and the huts of the red skins have passed away forever.

The sturdy farmer, Elijah Brayton, who once returned to his cabin from the weary journey to Chillicothe after millstones, and was met by news that made the blood forsake his parental heart in a sudden rush, had passed by some years the allotted period of man's life, and is fast progressing towards his fourscore years. William, the boy of sixteen who had set out with his little brother on that search for stray cattle, but had returned without him, has reached the meridian of life, and sees around him a young family springing up. Long since, the paternal cabin near the Tymochte Creek has disappeared, and two or three miles away from it, somewhere in the direction where the two brothers had separated thirty-four years ago, a fine brick house has become the dwelling of the oldest son of Elijah Brayton. Up at Springville, some five or six miles farther to the northwest, and at no great distance from the trail on which the young boy was borne off by the thieving Canadian Indians, lives another brother, Peter, and one of the married sisters. Here also lives the patriarch himself. There are other sisters who mourned when their brother was lost, and they too are married. A son and daughter born to the patriarch of the family after the loss of Matthew, have long since died, and another son, Asa, younger yet, pursues the practice of medicine in the adjoining town of Carey.

The publication of the "Indian Captive's" narrative in the Cleveland Herald was the means of creating considerable interest in his fortunes. The story was extensively copied, and several letters were received by the editors of that paper from people in different sections of the country who had lost children many years ago; it was supposed by means of Indians. None of these letters afforded any clue by which the Indian Captive could trace out his family.

A weekly paper containing the story, copied from the Cleveland Herald, was sent by a friend to the Braytons, and this first gave them an idea that there might be a possibility of recovering the missing member of the family. On the 26th of September, one month after the first publication of the narrative, Dr. Asa Brayton wrote to the editors of the Herald, stating the manner in which he had met with the article, and giving some particulars of the method in which his brother Matthew had been lost. About a week afterwards a cousin of the Doctor called at the office of that paper, and made inquiries respecting the Indian Captive. He was followed in a few days by Mr. Peter Brayton, one of the brothers of the missing Matthew, who went to Warren, O., in search of the "Captive," but lost trace of him there and returned discouraged.

The interest in the subject did not abate, and from time to time the Herald gave some intelligence regarding the wanderings of the "Indian Captive." The more the Braytons considered the matter the stronger was their desire to satisfy themselves, and on the tenth of November, William Brayton, the eldest brother, who had accompanied Matthew on the morning of the day when the latter was lost, set out with the determination of not returning until he could satisfy himself as to whether the "Indian Captive" was identical with his lost brother, or not.

Previous to setting out, William was charged by his father to examine the man for two marks by which his identity could probably be established. One was a scar on the top of the head, caused by a razor cut which the father had made in lancing a boil, and the other was a scar on the great toe of the right foot, resulting from the cut of an axe.

William Brayton came to Cleveland and learned that the person of whom he was in search had been heard of in Northern Pennsylvania, and was directed where to go. At the place pointed out he struck the trail of the "Captive," and traced him to Sugar Grove. Here he learned that the man had crossed the State line into New York. The chase was too near at an end to allow any delay, so Mr. Brayton took along a doctor as witness of the interview, and set out for the house of Mr. Smith, where it was said that the "Captive" had gone.

It was seven o'clock in the evening when the two arrived at the house, and the daylight was fast fading into darkness. They knocked at the door, and, in response to an invitation from within, entered the house. A man, with his boots off, was drying his feet at the fire. Mr. Brayton stepped forward eagerly and enquired where the "folks" were, and was told that they were out doing some work in the yard. Mr. Brayton said he wanted them called in, and wished a light struck at once, following up the request with the question whether the man to whom he spoke was the "Indian Captive." On being told in the affirmative he became greatly agitated and proceeded at once to get a light. The "Captive" hastily drew on his boots, buckled his dog to his belt, and drew back with suspicion from the strangers. As soon as the light was obtained Mr. Brayton bade the "Captive" bare his head, and then both he and his companion examined the spot where his father had told them to search for the scar. The emotion of William Brayton may be imagined when the scar was plainly revealed to his eyes, unmistakable in its character, and situated precisely where he had been told to look for it. In an agitated voice he bade the man take the boot from his right foot, which was done, and there too, was a scar visible, just where it had been described to exist.

The emotions of William Brayton may be imagined, but cannot be portrayed. The brother for whose loss he had always reproached himself was at length found through his means, and the sorrows of thirty-four years were at an end. For some minutes he paced up and down the room, his whole frame convulsed with agitation. Then he turned to the cause of all this emotion, who sat perfectly astonished at the proceedings, and the "Indian Captive" was declared to be the long lost Matthew Brayton.

A letter was at once sent home, containing the glad news of the discovery, and, as soon as possible, the reunited brothers set out in the same direction.

At every station on the road home, crowds gathered, and at Carey, where they were expected to stop, hundreds were collected—old men who had searched for the lost boy—aged mothers who had held him in their arms—young men who had heard the story narrated by their parents. But the couple stopped five miles north of Carey, at Adrian Station, and at once started for William Brayton's house.

Here the family were gathered. The old man, seventy-three years of age, but still hale and vigorous—the brothers and sisters. When the eldest brother entered with his charge the intense feeling that prevailed the hearts of all in the room can scarcely be imagined—cannot be described. The aged father arose, placed his trembling hand on the head of the stranger, and searched for the scar, which he could scarcely distinguish through the mist that filled his eyes. Then he knelt to examine the foot. For a moment every breath was hushed, and the hearts of the other relatives almost ceased to beat. Then the old man tottered to his feet, and with a gush of tears—the stream of affection that had been pent up for the third of a century—fell on the neck of his son—Matthew Brayton! It is useless to attempt a description of the scene that followed. The father that had so long secretly mourned for his child, the household pet; the brother who never forgot that it was from his company that the little boy had passed away to a mysterious fate; the other brother who had been his playmate; the sisters who had fondled their little brother in infancy—all were gathered to share in that happy meeting. There was one absent whose presence was needed to make the cup of joy full to overflowing, but her motherly heart might perhaps even then be rejoicing in Heaven for the happiness on earth.

The news of the return spread like wildfire. The return was on Thursday the 17th of November. For days afterwards the house was besieged by anxious people eager to see the "boy" so long lost, and so strangely found. Old men who had shared with zeal in that weary and hopeless search thirty-four years ago, came up, and all who had known him as a little boy, acknowledged the identity.

At present Matthew Brayton, the hero of these strange adventures, is residing with his father and brothers, and has become somewhat reconciled to civilized life. He has abandoned his design of returning to the Indians, and is endeavoring to fit himself for the different lot now assigned him. He has attended school as frequently as the state of his eyes permitted, and can now read a little, as well as converse very readily in the English language. After his thirty-four years of wanderings and hardships it is to be hoped that he will now be content to remain among his family and partake to the full of the blessings of civilization.

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The foregoing is a reproduction of a book published in 1860, giving the strange history of this Indian Captive. After returning to civilization, he resided for a few months in Carey and Fostoria, and made several lecture tours giving an account of his adventures and the manners and customs of the Indians.

This mode of life was too much of a change from the wild life he had been living, and when the war of the Rebellion broke out he enlisted in an Indiana Regiment, and went to the South to fight for his country. He proved a brave soldier, but while in the service he was taken dangerously ill, and after a short sickness died at Pittsburgh Landing in 1862.