THE SEMINOLES.
The conversation on the part of the hunters had so far been conducted
by Charley. Walter had remained silent, busily thinking over the
wrongs that had been done them by the convicts. He could not forget
the still, cold form in the hut that had been robbed of life by the
murderers' bullets. He was not usually a vindictive boy, but, as he
thought of Ritter's noble act and sudden death, his passion steadily
grew and at last he turned scornfully to the young chief.
"Little Tiger speaks with the tongue of a man, but his deeds are those
of a squaw," he declared, bitterly. "Are he and his braves afraid of
the murderers of his people and the slayers of his father that they
leave them to escape in peace and safety?"
"They will not escape," said the young Indian, his face darkening with
anger at the savage taunt. "A man's death for a man, but jackals shall
die like jackals. With hearts of terror and blood turned to water in
their fear, they shall die a death more horrible than the palefaces can
give them."
"You have offended him, Walter," said Charley, as the young savage
walked proudly away. "Why couldn't you be more patient? I have felt
all along that he had some plan for dealing with the convicts."
"I suppose I have put my foot in it," said Walter regretfully, "but
it's no use crying about it now."
The Indians were already lighting fires and preparing breakfast, but
the hunters had a task before them which they felt they must perform
before they could touch food, and they immediately set about it.
In the shade of a majestic live oak, they dug a deep grave and in it
laid to rest the body of the unfortunate Ritter. Their eyes were moist
as the earth covered the remains of the young hero.
Little Tiger rose to meet them as they approached the group of Indians.
Walter walked up to him with outstretched hand. "I am sorry for my
angry, foolish words," he said. "When sorrow bears heavy on the heart,
the tongue grows bitter."
The young Seminole grasped the offered hand with evident pleasure.
"Even squaws forgive and forget, and a warrior should be nobler than a
squaw," he said, sagely. "The palefaces shall be seated and share the
food of their red brothers."
The hunters would gladly have declined, but could not well do so
without giving offense, so they seated themselves in the circle
surrounding the steaming kettle containing the food and with inward
qualms partook lightly of the stew.
There was a kettle to every fifteen Indians, and their manner of eating
left much to be desired. Spoons and forks they had none, but they
solved the problem by dipping their hands into the pot and fishing out
the portions desired. With true courtesy, the guests were given the
first dip into the pot.
As they ate, the hunters had an opportunity to study their hosts more
carefully than they had yet done.
They were all splendid specimens of savage manhood. Not one was less
than six feet tall, and each was shaped and muscled like an athlete.
All wore the usual Seminole dress, a long shirt belted in at the waist,
moccasins, and turbans of tightly wound red handkerchiefs. They were
extremely neat and cleanly in appearance, a virtue not common with
Indian tribes.
There were a few squaws among the company, but they did not tempt a
second glance. They were wooden-faced, slovenly-looking creatures
almost disgusting in appearance. They were loaded with string upon
string of colored beads forming a solid mass, like a huge collar, from
the point of their chins down to their chests.
"Which one have you picked out for your own, Captain?" whispered
Charley. "That big one over there seems to have her eye upon you."
The old sailor flushed with embarrassment. "Look out or they'll have
you," he cautioned fearfully, "I kinder feel that big one has singled
me out, an' I don't want to encourage her none."
The Indians seemed to regard the day as a holiday to celebrate the
laying out of the spirits and the adding of a large fertile island to
their domain.
The morning was given over to feasting and to running, jumping and
wrestling matches. Only the young Indians indulged in these contests,
the warriors sitting gravely looking on.
Our young hunters tried their strength and skill with the Indian lads,
but, although they were stronger and more nimble than most boys of
their age, they found that they were no match for the young Seminoles.
While the boys were enjoying the contests, the captain sat moodily
apart, keeping a worried eye upon the squaws.
With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Charley drew aside one of the
Seminole lads, whom he had found could speak English, and whispered
eagerly to him.
The Indian lad's bright, beady eyes twinkled as he listened, and, when
Charley concluded, he nodded his head and slipped away into the group
around the fire.
"Look, Walt, oh, look," shouted Charley a moment later, "look at the
captain, oh my, oh my," and Charley rolled on the grass in wicked glee.
The young Indian had done his work well. A dozen of the squaws had
formed a ring around the old sailor and were slowly closing in. The
captain had struggled to his feet and with red face and horrified eyes
was waving his arms frantically, shouting, "Go away, go away," much as
one would shoo a flock of chickens.
"Don't be afraid, captain," called Charley, "they only want to embrace
you."
"I won't be embraced, I won't, I won't," cried the old sailor,
frantically.
"Come, Captain, do the Hobson act," said Walter, "the ladies expect it."
"Help, help," shouted the captain appealingly, as the circle of
grave-faced squaws steadily advanced, "I won't be embraced, I won't."
With a sudden howl of terror the squaws turned and fled.
In his fear, the captain had opened his mouth a little too far and his
false teeth had tumbled out. The old sailor caught them in his hand
and continued to wave his arms. "I won't be embraced," he shouted.
But there was no need of the defiance; the squaws would not, for untold
beads, have come near the strange being with the movable teeth.
"Shame, Captain," said Charley severely, as the two boys approached the
old sailor. "You must have been flirting with those ladies to make
them act like that."
"I guess they was just attracted by my appearance," said the captain
modestly, "I always was a favorite with the ladies."
"Looks as if they were headed this way again," said Walter.
With a cry of fright the old sailor turned and dashed away for the
shelter of the hut as fast as he could run.
The boys shouted with laughter, and even the grave warriors smiled at
the scene.
After dinner the celebration was renewed, but this time the youths
formed the audience while their elders held shooting matches and more
sober contests of skill and strength.
The captain did not emerge from the hut until nearly sundown, and when
he did appear he carried both upper and lower teeth in his hand.
Whenever a squaw approached anywhere near him he would open his mouth
to its fullest extent and wave the teeth in the air.
"They will get used to seeing you without them and soon think you as
beautiful as ever," Charley said to him, gravely.
"Charley," said the old sailor, solemnly, "for good or ill, we leave
this island to-morrow. It ain't often them Injin women meets with a
man of my looks, an' it has drove 'em plum crazy. It ain't safe for me
to stay longer."
"I'm wondering what that widow lady in Shelbourne will say when she
hears of this," said Walter musingly. "She will naturally think that
you must have given them great encouragement."
"If either of you lads breathe a word of this in town, I'll throttle
you," declared the apprehensive old sailor.
"We won't say a word," said Charley, severely, "but I must say you have
been setting Walter and I a terrible example, captain."
After this parting shot, the two tormentors retired quickly, for the
old sailor was almost at the exploding point with indignation.
The captain was not the only one to whom the afternoon had brought
trials. Chris had not been without his share of troubles. The
Seminoles treated him with marked disdain and would not even permit him
to eat with the others.
"The Indians consider the darky as an inferior being," Charley had
confided to Walter in a whisper. "There are rumors that there is more
than one negro slave in the heart of the Everglades. The Seminoles
have a proverb, 'White man, Indian, dog, nigger,' which expresses their
opinion of the colored race."
Chris' troubles reached their climax when the little party was seated
around the fire with the Indians in the evening.
The chief, who had been watching the little darky closely all day,
turned to Charley: "Me buy 'em," he said, indicating Chris with a wave
of his hand. "Me buy nigger."
"I ain't no nigger," shouted Chris in a rage, "I'se a free-born black
Englishman, dat's what I is."
Charley silenced the indignant little darky with a wave of his hand.
"He already has a master and is therefore not ours to sell," he said,
while Chris bristled with indignation.
"Who master?" inquired the Seminole with an appraising glance at the
sturdy little darky.
"A man called King Edward," said Charley gravely, and Chris'
indignation subsided.
"Too bad," grunted the chief, and dropped the subject.
"What's that?" exclaimed Walter suddenly, as distant rifle shots echoed
in the air, were repeated irregularly and finally ceased.
"The convicts, I guess," whispered Charley, "I don't understand why
they are firing, though. All the Indians are here."
Significant glances passed between the Indians.
"Jackals are dead," said the chief, a fierce exultation in his face.
"Who killed them?" cried Charley.
"Crocodiles," said the Seminole, briefly.
The little party stared at each other in horror. They understood now
why the Seminoles had not made an attack, and had showed so much
confidence in the convicts not being able to escape.
Much as the hunters hated the men who had persecuted them, they felt
shocked and horror-stricken at the horrible fate that had overtaken
them.