The murder of the commissioner called for some act of prompt
retribution. Immediately after its occurrence, several expresses had
been dispatched by different routes to Camp Drane--some of whom fell
into the hands of the enemy, while the rest arrived safely with the
news.
By daybreak of the following morning the army, more than a thousand
strong, was in motion; and marching towards the Amazura. The avowed
object of this expedition was to strike a blow at the _families_ of the
hostile Indians--their fathers and mothers, their wives, sisters and
children--whose lurking-place amidst the fastnesses of the great swamp--
the "Cove"--had become known to the general. It was intended they
should be _captured, if possible_, and held as hostages until the
warriors could be induced to surrender.
With all others who could be spared from the fort, I was ordered to
accompany the expedition, and accordingly joined it upon the march.
From the talk I heard around me, I soon discovered the sentiment of the
soldiery. They had but little thought of making captives. Exasperated
by what had taken place at the fort--further exasperated by what they
called "Dade's massacre," I felt satisfied that they would not stay to
take prisoners--old men or young men, women or children, all would alike
be slain--no quarter would be given.
I was sick even at the prospect of such a wholesale carnage as was
anticipated. Anticipated, I say, for all confidently believed it would
take place. The hiding-place of these unfortunate families had become
known--there were guides conducting us thither who knew the very spot--
how could we fail to reach it?
An easy surprise was expected. Information had been received that the
warriors, or most of them, were absent upon another and more distant
expedition, and in a quarter where we could not possibly encounter them.
We were to make a descent upon the nest in the absence of the eagles;
and with this intent the army was conducted by silent and secret
marches.
But the day before, our expedition would have appeared easy enough--a
mere exciting frolic, without peril of any kind; but the news of Dade's
defeat had produced a magical effect upon the spirits of the soldiers,
and whilst it exasperated, it had also cowed them. For the first time,
they began to feel something like a respect for their foe, mingled
perhaps with a little dread of him. The Indians, at least, knew how to
kill.
This feeling increased as fresh messengers came in from the scene of
Dade's conflict, bringing new details of that sanguinary affair. It was
not without some apprehension, then, that the soldier marched onwards,
advancing into the heart of the enemy's country; and even the reckless
volunteer kept close in the ranks as he rode silently along.
About mid-day we reached the banks of the Amazura. The stream had to be
crossed before the Cove could be reached, for the vast network of swamps
and lagoons bearing this name extended from the opposite side.
A ford had been promised the general, but the guides were at fault--no
crossing-place could be found. At the point where we reached it, the
river ran past, broad, black, and deep--too deep to be waded even by our
horses.
Were the guides playing traitor, and misleading us? It certainly began
to assume that appearance; but no--it could not be. They were Indians,
it is true, but well proved in their devotion to the whites. Besides,
they were men compromised with the national party--doomed to death by
their own people--our defeat would have been their ruin.
It was not treason, as shewn afterwards--they had simply been deceived
by the trails, and had gone the wrong way.
It was fortunate for us they had done so! But for this mistake of the
guides, the army of General Clinch might have been called upon to repeat
on a larger scale the drama so lately enacted by Dade and his
companions.
Had we reached the true crossing, some two miles further down, we should
have entered an ambush of the enemy, skillfully arranged by that same
leader who so well understood his forest tactics. The report of the
warriors having gone on a distant expedition was a mere _ruse_, the
prelude to a series of strategic manoeuvres devised by Osceola.
The Indians were at that moment where we should have been, but for the
mistake of the guides. The ford was beset upon both sides by the foe--
the warriors lying unseen like snakes among the grass, ready to spring
forth the moment we should attempt the crossing. Fortunate it was for
Clinch and his army that our guides possessed so little skill.
The general acted without this knowledge at the time--else, had he known
the dangerous proximity, his behaviour might have been different. As it
was, a halt was ordered; and, after some deliberation, it was determined
we should cross the river at the point where the army had arrived.
Some old boats were found, "scows," with a number of Indian canoes.
These would facilitate the transport of the infantry, while the mounted
men could swim over upon their horses.
Rafts of logs were soon knocked together, and the passage of the stream
commenced. The manoeuvre was executed with considerable adroitness, and
in less than an hour one half of the command had crossed.
I was among those who got first over; but I scarcely congratulated
myself on the success of the enterprise. I felt sad at the prospect of
being soon called upon to aid in the slaughter of defenceless people--of
women and children--for around me there was no other anticipation. It
was with a feeling of positive relief, almost of joy, that I heard that
wild war-cry breaking through the woods--the well-known Yo-ho-ehee of
the Seminoles.
Along with it came the ringing detonations of rifles, the louder report
of musketry; while bullets, whistling through the air, and breaking
branches from the surrounding trees, told us that we were assailed in
earnest, and by a large force of the enemy.
That portion of the army already over had observed the precaution to
post itself in a strong position among heavy timber that grew near the
river-bank; and on this account the first volley of the Indians produced
a less deadly effect. For all that, several fell; and those who were
exposed to view were still in danger.
The fire was returned by the troops, repeated by the Indians, and again
answered by the soldiers--now rolling continuously, now in straggling
volleys or single shots, and at intervals altogether ceasing.
For a long while but little damage was done on either side; but it was
evident that the Indians, under cover of the underwood, were working
themselves into a more advantageous position--in fact, _surrounding_ us.
The troops, on the other hand, dare not stir from the spot where they
had landed, until a larger number should cross over. After that it was
intended we should advance, and force the Indians from the covert at the
point of the bayonet.
The troops from the other side continued to cross. Hitherto, they had
been protected by the fire of those already over; but at this crisis a
manoeuvre was effected by the Indians, that threatened to put an end to
the passing of the river, unless under a destructive fire from their
rifles.
Just below our position, a narrow strip of land jutted out into the
stream, forming a miniature peninsula. It was a sand-bar caused by an
eddy on the opposite side. It was lower than the main bank, and bare of
timber--except at its extreme point, where a sort of island had been
formed, higher than the peninsula itself.
On this island grew a thick grove of evergreen trees--palms, live-oaks,
and magnolias--in short, a hommock.
It would have been prudent for us to have occupied this hommock at the
moment of our first crossing over; but our general had not perceived the
advantage. The Indians were not slow in noticing it; and before we
could take any steps to hinder them, a body of warriors rushed across
the isthmus, and took possession of the hommock.
The result of this skillful manoeuvre was soon made manifest. The
boats, in crossing, were swept down by the current within range of the
wooded islet--out of whose evergreen shades was now poured a continuous
stream of blue fiery smoke, while the leaden missiles did their work of
death. Men were seen dropping down upon the rafts, or tumbling over the
sides of the canoes, with a heavy plunge upon the water, that told they
had ceased to live; while the thick fire of musketry that was directed
upon the hommock altogether failed to dislodge the daring band who
occupied it.
There were but few of them--for we had seen them distinctly as they ran
over the isthmus--but it was evident they were a chosen few, skilled
marksmen every man. They were dealing destruction at every shot.
It was a moment of intense excitement. Elsewhere the conflict was
carried on with more equality--since both parties fought under cover of
the trees, and but little injury was sustained or inflicted by either.
The band upon the islet were killing more of our men than all the rest
of the enemy.
There was no other resource than to dislodge them from the hommock--to
drive them forth at the bayonet's point--at least this was the design
that now suggested itself to the commander-in-chief.
It seemed a forlorn hope. Whoever should approach from the land-side
would receive the full fire of the concealed enemy--be compelled to
advance under a fearful risk of life.
To my surprise, the duty was assigned to myself. Why, I know not--since
it could not be from any superior courage or ardour I had hitherto
evinced in the campaign. But the order came from the general, direct
and prompt; and with no great spirit I prepared to execute it.
With a party of rifles--scarcely outnumbering the enemy we were to
attack at such a serious disadvantage--I started forth for the
peninsula.
I felt as if marching upon my death, and I believe that most of those
who followed me were the victims of a similar presentiment. Even though
it had been a certainty, we could not now turn back; the eyes of the
whole army were upon us. We must go forwards--we must conquer or fall.
In a few seconds we were upon the island, and advancing by rapid strides
towards the hommock. We had hopes that the Indians might not have
perceived our approach, and that we should get behind them unawares.
They were vain hopes. Our enemies had been watchful; they had observed
our manoeuvre from its beginning; had faced round, and were waiting with
rifles loaded, ready to receive us.
But half conscious of our perilous position, we pressed forwards and had
got within twenty yards of the grove, when the blue smoke and red flame
suddenly jetted forth from the trees. I heard the bullets shower past
my ears; I heard the cries and groans of my followers, as they fell
thickly behind me. I looked around--I saw that every one of them was
stretched upon the ground, dead or dying!
At the same instant a voice reached me from the grove:
"Go back, Randolph! go back! By that symbol upon your breast your life
has been spared; but my braves are chafed, and their blood is hot with
fighting. Tempt not their anger. Away! away!"