Soon after, I retired from the mess-table, and strolled out into the
stockade.
It was now after sunset. Orders had been issued for no one to leave the
fort; but translating these as only applicable to the common soldier, I
resolved to sally forth.
I was guided by an impulse of the heart. In the Indian camp were the
wives of the chiefs and warriors--their sisters and children--why not
she among the rest?
I had a belief that she was there--although, during all that day, my
eyes had been wandering in vain search. She was not among those who had
crowded around the council: not a face had escaped my scrutiny.
I resolved to seek the Seminole camp--to go among the tents of the
Micosaucs--there, in all likelihood, I should find Powell--there I
should meet with Maumee.
There would be no danger in entering the Indian camp--even the hostile
chiefs were yet in relations of friendship with us; and surely Powell
was still _my_ friend? He could protect me from peril or insults.
I felt a longing to grasp the hand of the young warrior, that of itself
would have influenced me to seek the interview. I yearned to renew the
friendly confidence of the past--to talk over those pleasant times--to
recall those scenes of halcyon brightness. Surely the sterner duties of
the chief and war-leader had not yet indurated a heart, once mild and
amiable? No doubt the spirit of my former friend was embittered by the
white man's injustice; no doubt I should find him rancorous against our
race; he had reason--still I had no fears that I myself was not an
exception to this wholesale resentment.
Whatever the result, I resolved to seek him, and once more extend to him
the hand of friendship.
I was on the eve of setting forth, when a summons from the
commander-in-chief called me to his quarters. With some chagrin, I
obeyed the order.
I found the commissioner there, with the officers of higher rank--the
Ringgolds and several other civilians of distinction.
On entering, I perceived that they were in "caucus," and had just ended
the discussion of some plan of procedure.
"The design is excellent," observed General Clinch, addressing himself
to the others; "but how are Omatla and `Black Dirt' [Note 1] to be met?
If we summon them hither, it may create suspicion; they could not enter
the fort without being observed."
"General Clinch," said the elder Ringgold--the most cunning diplomatist
of the party--"if you and General Thompson were to meet the friendly
chiefs outside?"
"Exactly so," interrupted the commissioner. "I have been thinking of
that. I have sent a messenger to Omatla, to inquire if he can give us a
secret meeting. It will be best to see them outside. The man has
returned--I hear him."
At this moment, a person entered the room, whom I recognised as one of
the interpreters who had officiated at the council. He whispered
something to the commissioner, and then withdrew.
"All right, gentlemen!" exclaimed the latter, as the interpreter went
out; "Omatla will meet us within the hour. Black Dirt will be with him.
They have named the `Sink' as the place. It lies to the north of the
fort. We can reach it without passing the camp, and there will be no
risk of our being observed. Shall we go, General?"
"I am ready," replied Clinch, taking up his cloak, and throwing it over
his shoulders; "but, General Thompson," said he, turning to the
commissioner, "how about your interpreters? Can they be intrusted with
a secret of so much importance?"
The commissioner appeared to hesitate. "It might be imprudent," he
replied at length, in a half soliloquy.
"Never mind, then--never mind," said Clinch; "I think we can do without
them. Lieutenant Randolph," continued he, turning to me, "you speak the
Seminole tongue fluently?"
"Not fluently, General; I speak it, however."
"You could interpret it fairly."
"Yes, General; I believe so."
"Very well, then; that will do. Come with us!"
Smothering my vexation, at being thus diverted from my design, I
followed in silence--the commissioner leading the way, while the
General, disguised in cloak and plain forage cap, walked by his side.
We passed out of the gate, and turned northward around the stockade.
The tents of the Indians were upon the southwest, placed irregularly
along the edge of a broad belt of "hommocky" woods that extended in that
direction. Another tract of hommock lay to the north, separated from
the larger one by savannas and open forests of pine timber. Here was
the "Sink." It was nearly half a mile distant from the stockade; but in
the darkness we could easily reach it without being observed from any
part of the Seminole camp.
We soon arrived upon the ground. The chiefs were before us. We found
them standing under the shadows of the trees by the edge of the pond.
My duty now began. I had little anticipation that it was to have been
so disagreeable.
"Ask Omatla what is the number of his people--also those of Black Dirt,
and the other chiefs who are for us."