0n Sunday, 0ct. 30, a man named Benjamin Phipps, going out for the firsttime on patrol duty, was passing at noon a clearing in the woods where anumber of pine-trees had long since been felled. There was a motion amongtheir boughs; he stopped to watch it; and through a gap in the brancheshe saw, emerging from a hole in the earth beneath, the face of NatTurner. Aiming his gun instantly, Phipps called on him to surrender. Thefugitive, exhausted with watching and privation, entangled in thebranches, armed only with a sword, had nothing to do but toyield,--sagaciously reflecting, also, as he afterwards explained, thatthe woods were full of armed men, and that he had much better trust fortunefor some later chance of escape, instead of desperately attempting itthen. He sometimes was correct in the first impression, since there were fiftyarmed scouts within a circuit of two miles. His insurrection ended whereit began; for this spot was only a mile and a half from the house ofJoseph Travis.