ON THE TRAIL
Cat-sha, the Seminole chief, rejoiced greatly at having gained to his
band so promising a young warrior as Chitta, who had so incurred the
enmity of both the white men and his own people as to be obliged to fly
from them for his life.
After eating together a meal of dried venison that the elder produced
from his wallet, the two Seminoles sat, concealed behind a thick
cluster of cactus, watching the river for any signs of pursuit, and
forming plans for future action. Cat-sha told Chitta that he had left
his band in their most inaccessible stronghold among the bayous and
deep morasses of the great Okeefenokee Swamp. He also said that, were
it not for the presence of so large a number of friendly Indians in the
immediate vicinity of Fort Caroline, he should bring his warriors to
attack it; for he had decided that the chances were in favor of his
success in so doing.
"Ha!" exclaimed Chitta, interrupting his chief at this point, "I may,
in that case, be of service to thee, though I am as yet untried in
battle." Then he told Cat-sha a secret that was known to but few of
his people, and which he himself had only discovered by accident. It
was the same that Has-se had declined to confide to Réné when the
latter questioned him as to the manner of his escape from the fort, and
it was indeed a secret of the utmost value to enemies of the white men.
Cat-sha listened attentively, and when Chitta had finished he
exclaimed, "Well done, my young brave! Thy serpent's wisdom is already
proving of value to us. What thou hast just told me makes clear our
plan of attack upon this nest of pale-faces, and removes one of the
chief difficulties in our way. Having this information, I regard the
fort and all that it contains as already in our power. We have only to
bide our time. Well may the white man tremble; for ere many days the
tiger, guided by the serpent, will spring at his throat."
As they talked, their attention was directed to a dark moving mass
floating down the river, close under its bank. Cat-sha soon pronounced
it to be a fleet of canoes filled with people, and they watched them
with eager curiosity.
It was, indeed, the tribe from which Chitta had fled, moving, under the
leadership of their chief, Micco, towards the land of the Alachuas,
where food in abundance awaited them. At the outset of their journey
they kept as close as possible under the river-bank, to avoid
observation from the white men in Fort Caroline, who, they feared,
might oppose their departure if they learned of it. It was not until
they reached the bold bluff from the summit of which the two Seminoles
watched their progress that they felt they were safe from the eyes of
the fort, and might strike boldly out into the river. Here, aided by
the full strength of the ebbing tide, they proceeded rapidly on their
way towards its mouth.
Seeing that the canoes which were thus passing beneath them contained,
besides the warriors of the tribe, its women and children, and all of
its movable property, Cat-sha concluded that it was a general movement
of Micco's people towards some distant place; and from the direction
they were taking, he guessed that their destination was the fertile
land of the Alachuas.
"This is thy doing," he said to Chitta, who was regarding in bitter
silence this departure of his people, towards whom he still felt drawn
by old association in spite of what he had so recently done and become.
"This is thy doing, my young Seminole. Thou hast destroyed their store
of food, and thus compelled them to go in search of more. Now let us
follow them, and when we have seen them at a safe distance, we will
bring my brave warriors to the attack of the white men shut up in
yonder gopher hole."
When the departing tribe was nearly out of sight down the river, the
two Seminoles, drawing Chitta's stolen canoe from its hiding-place,
started in pursuit. They so arranged their own movements that they ran
no chance of discovery from those in advance of them, though they were
never far behind. They carefully examined each camping-place of the
moving tribe, to assure themselves that no person was left behind who
might discover them, and they always placed their own little camp so
that it should be entirely concealed from those whom they followed.
Cat-sha was much pleased to find that in thus following Micco's tribe
he was also journeying in the direction of his own band, who awaited
him in the depths of the great swamp. He even meditated an attack upon
his Indian foes as they travelled, with their women, children, and
baggage, before leading his warriors back to Fort Caroline.
It was these two, then, whose traces had so puzzled Has-se as he and
Réné de Veaux in turn followed them, and it was their canoe of which
the two boys caught a fleeting glimpse in the great swamp.
"Look!" exclaimed Has-se, whose keen eye was the first to detect the
vanishing canoe. "These are either my own people, whom we have thus
overtaken, or those whom we know to be in close pursuit of them. Here
is work for us, Ta-lah-lo-ko, or rather for me, for it is my duty to
discover the meaning of this pursuit, and warn my people if danger is
near them, while I am also bound to keep thee as far as possible from
all harm."
"Nonsense, Has-se! It is well for thee to keep me out of danger so
long as thou keepest from it thyself; but since I have thrown my
fortunes with thine, thy friends are my friends, thy enemies are my
enemies, and thy safety or danger is mine to share with thee. So say
no more of my safety, save as it concerns thine as well, but lead on as
thou thinkest best, and I will follow thee as truly as though I were
enlisted beneath thy banner. Not that I suppose you Indians have such
things as banners, or understand their significance; but thou might
well have them, and be none the worse for the having."
Although Has-se made no reply to this brave speech, he accepted it as
an evidence of true friendship, and gave Réné a grateful smile, which
the latter understood to mean "Very well, Ta-lah-lo-ko, I accept thy
offer of service as heartily as thou dost tender it."
Under ordinary circumstances, Has-se's Indian instinct would not have
permitted him to cross the open water of the bayou in broad daylight
when he suspected that an enemy might be lying in wait for him on its
farther side. On this occasion, however, it seemed so impossible that
the occupants of the canoe, of which he had caught but the merest
glimpse, should have looked back and detected them at the same instant,
that he decided to push on, and if possible discover more of it. So he
and Réné crossed the open water as quickly and with as little noise as
possible, and as they approached its opposite side, Has-se gazed keenly
into the dark lanes between the moss-hung cypresses. He neither saw
nor heard anything to cause him alarm, and congratulating themselves
that they had not been discovered, the boys pushed on over waters of
another extremely narrow stream.
This, to Réné's surprise, flowed, though with an almost imperceptible
current, in the direction they were taking, or exactly opposite to that
of the river they had ascended from the salt-marshes of the east. As
Has-se had requested him to keep absolute silence, and on no account to
speak, he restrained his curiosity for the present, but determined to
seek an explanation of this phenomenon when an opportunity should offer.
He afterwards discovered that the river they had ascended, and that
they were now descending, both rose in the great swamp, and that their
headwaters were connected by navigable streams, but that while one
flowed east into the Atlantic, the other flowed west into the Gulf of
Mexico.
In thus deeming themselves undiscovered by those in advance of them,
the boys made an almost fatal mistake. The wily Cat-sha, accustomed to
look for danger behind every tree, and almost expecting to hear the
war-cry of his enemies in every breath of wind, knew better than to
leave open waters without looking behind as he did so. On this
occasion the quick glance thrown backward at the instant his canoe
entered the shadows of the cypresses detected the gleam of a paddle,
and he knew at once that he and Chitta were being followed, even as
they were following Micco and his people.
He said nothing until they were safely within the shadows, when he told
Chitta of his discovery. The latter advised going into hiding at once,
and awaiting the approach of their unknown pursuers; but the more
experienced Cat-sha said no, for if they had also been discovered, that
was exactly what they would be expected to do, and their pursuers would
exercise more than a usual amount of caution in approaching that point.
Once safely past it they would advance more boldly, thinking that their
own presence had been undetected. He therefore continued on down the
little stream for nearly a mile, until they reached a point where the
channel was so seriously obstructed by overhanging vines and stranded
driftwood that only a passage barely wide enough for a single canoe was
left open.
Here they drew their canoe from the water and carefully concealed it.
Then they took positions one on each side of the stream; and, hidden
behind screens of tangled vines, with arrows held ready to be fitted to
their bowstrings, they patiently awaited the coming of their unknown
pursuers.
Towards this well-planned trap, that seemed to insure their
destruction, Réné and Has-se advanced, cautiously, to be sure, but
without a warning of what awaited them. At length they had approached
within a quarter of a mile of the ambush, and one would have said that
nothing could prevent their falling into it.
At this point Has-se whispered, "Keep wide open thy ears as well as thy
eyes, Ta-lah-lo-ko"; and Réné answered also in a whisper,
"They are already so wide open that not the faintest hum of a gnat
escapes them. What's that?"
The sudden snapping of a twig by some bird or small animal caused them
to start, and listen for a moment with uplifted paddles. The canoe
thus left to itself, unguided, drifted aside, and hung for an instant
upon the upraised end of a sunken log. Réné reached his hand down into
the water to push it clear of the obstruction, but suddenly withdrew it
with a suppressed cry of pain and fright. At the same moment a large
water-snake, of the kind known as a moccasin, glided away, and
disappeared beneath the slimy bank.