The forest continued to burn throughout the night, the following day,
and the night after. Even on the second day, most of the trees were
still on fire.
They no longer blazed, for the air was perfectly still, and there was no
wind to fan the fire into flame. It was seen in red patches against the
trunks, smouldering and gradually becoming less, as its strength
spontaneously died out.
From many of the trees it had disappeared altogether, and these no
longer bore any resemblance to trees, but looked like huge,
sharp-pointed stakes, charred and black, as though profusely coated with
coal-tar.
Though there were portions of the forest that might now have been
traversed, there were other places where the fire still burned fiercely
enough to oppose our progress. We were still besieged by the igneous
element--as completely confined within the circumscribed boundaries of
the glade, as if encompassed by a hostile army of twenty times our
number--indeed, more so. No rescue could possibly reach us. Even our
enemies, so far as _our_ safety was concerned, could not have "raised
the siege."
So far the old hunter's providence had stood us in good stead. But for
the horse some of us must have succumbed to hunger; or, at all events,
suffered its extreme. We had been now four days without food--except
what the handful of pine cones and the horse-flesh afforded us; and
still the fiery forest hemmed us in. There was no alternative but to
stay where we were until, as Hickman phrased it, "the woods should git
_cool_."
We were cheered with the hope that another day would effect this
purpose, and we might travel with safety.
The prospect before us was gloomy as that around us. As our dread of
the fire declined, that of our human foes increased in an inverse
proportion. We had but little hope of getting off without an encounter.
They could traverse the woods as soon as we, and were certain to be on
the look-out. With them the account was still to be settled. The
gauntlet was yet to be run.
But we had grown fierce and less fearful. The greatest coward of our
party had become brave, and no one voted for either skulking or hanging
back. Stand or fall, we had resolved upon keeping together, and cutting
our way through the hostile lines, or dying in the attempt. It was but
the old programme, with a slight change in the _mise-en-scene_.
We waited only for another night to carry our plans into execution. The
woods would scarce be as "cool" as we might have desired, but hunger was
again hurrying us. The horse--a small one--had disappeared. Fifty
starved stomachs are hard to satisfy. The bones lay around clean
picked--those that contained marrow, broken into fragments and emptied
of their contents; even the hideous saurian was a skeleton!
A more disgusting spectacle was presented by the bodies of the two
criminals. The heat had swollen them to enormous proportions, and
decomposition had already commenced. The air was loaded with that
horrid effluvia peculiar to the dead body of a human being.
Our comrades who fell in the fight had been buried, and there was some
talk of performing the like office for the others. No one objected; but
none volunteered to take the trouble. In such cases men are overpowered
by an extreme apathy; and this was chiefly the reason why the bodies of
these wretches were suffered to remain without interment.
With eyes bent anxiously towards the west, we awaited the going down of
the sun. So long as his bright orb was above the horizon, we could only
guess at the condition of the fire. The darkness would enable us to
distinguish that part of the forest that was still burning, and point
out the direction we should take. The fire itself would guide us to the
shunning of it.
Twilight found us on the tiptoe of expectation, and not without hope.
There was but little redness among the scathed pines--the smoke appeared
slighter than we had yet observed it. Some believed that the fires were
nearly out--all thought the time had arrived when we could pass through
them.
An unexpected circumstance put this point beyond conjecture. While we
stood waiting, the rain began to fall--at first in big solitary drops,
but in a few moments it came pouring down as if all heaven's fountains
had been opened together.
We hailed the phenomenon with joy. It appeared an omen in our favour.
We could hardly restrain ourselves from setting forth at once; but the
more cautious counselled the rest to patience, and we stood awaiting the
deeper darkness.
The rain continued to pour--its clouds hastening the night. As it
darkened, scarce a spark appeared among the trees.
"It is dark enough," urged the impatient. The others yielded, and we
started forth into the bosom of the ruined forest. We moved silently
along amid the black, calcined trunks. Each grasped his gun tight and
ready for use. Mine was held only in one hand--the other rested in a
sling.
In this plight I was not alone. Half a dozen of my comrades had been
also "winged;" and together we kept in the rear. The better men marched
in front, Hickman and Weatherford acting as guides.
The rain beat down upon us. There was no longer a foliage to intercept
it. As we walked under the burnt branches, the black char was driven
against our faces, and as quickly washed off again. Most of the men
were bareheaded--their caps were over the locks of their guns to keep
them dry--some sheltered their priming with the skirts of their coats.
In this manner we had advanced nearly half a mile, we knew not in what
direction; no guide could have found path in such a forest. We only
endeavoured to keep straight forward, with the view of getting _beyond_
our enemies. So long unmolested, we had begun to hope that we might.
Alas! it was a momentary gleam. We were underrating the cunning of our
red foes. They had watched us all the time--had dogged our steps, and
at some distance off, were marching on both sides of us, in two parallel
lines. While dreaming of safety we were actually in their midst!
The flashes of a hundred guns through the misty rain--the whistling of
as many bullets--were the first intimation we had of their presence.
Several fell under the volley. Some returned the fire--a few thought
only of making their escape.
Uttering their shrill cries, the savages closed in upon us. In the
darkness they appeared to outnumber the trees.
Save the occasional report of a pistol, no other shot was heard--no one
thought of reloading. The foe was upon us before there was time to draw
a ramrod. The knife and hatchet were to be the arbiters of the fight.
The struggle was sanguinary as it was short. Many of our brave fellows
met their death; but each killed his foeman--some two or three of them--
before he fell.
We were soon vanquished. The enemy was five to one--how could it be
otherwise? They were fresh and strong; we weak with hunger--almost
emaciated--many of us wounded--how could it be otherwise?
I saw but little of the conflict--perhaps no one saw more; it was a
straggle amidst opaque darkness.
With my one hand--and that the left--I was almost helpless. I fired my
rifle at random, and had contrived to draw a pistol; but the blow of a
tomahawk hindered me from using it, at the same time felling me
senseless to the earth.
I was only stunned, and when my senses returned to me, I saw that the
conflict was over. Dark as it was, I could perceive a number of black
objects lying near me upon the ground. They were the bodies of the
slain.
Some were those of my late comrades--others their foes--in many
instances locked in each other's embrace!
The savages were stooping over, as if separating them. On the former
they were executing their last hideous rite of vengeance--they were
scalping them.
A group was nearer; the individuals composing it were standing erect.
One in their midst appeared to issue commands. Even in the grey light I
could distinguish three waving plumes. Again Osceola!
I was not free, or at that moment I should have rushed forwards and
grappled him, vain though the vengeful effort might have been. But I
was not free.
Two savages knelt over me, as if guarding me against such an attempt. I
perceived my black follower near at hand--still alive, and similarly
cared for. Why had they not killed us?
At this moment a man was seen approaching. It was not he with the
ostrich-plumes, though the latter appeared to have sent him.
As he drew near, I perceived that he carried a pistol. My hour was
come. The man stooped over me, and placed the weapon close to my ear.
To my astonishment he fired it into the air!
I thought he had missed me, and would try again. But this was not his
purpose. He only wanted a light.
While the powder was ablaze, I caught a glance of the countenance. It
was an Indian's, but I thought I had seen it before; and from some
expression the man made use of, he appeared to know me.
He passed quickly from me, and proceeded to the spot where Jake was held
captive. The pistol must have had two barrels, for I saw him fire it
again, stooping in the same manner over the prostrate form of the black.
He then rose and called out:
"It is they--still alive."
This information appeared meant for him of the black plumes, for the
moment it was given he uttered some exclamation I did not comprehend,
and then walked away.
His voice produced a singular impression upon me. I fancied it did not
sound like Osceola's!
We were kept upon the ground only for a few minutes longer, and then a
number of horses were brought up. Upon two of these Jake and I were
mounted, and fast tied to the saddles. A signal was then given, and,
with an Indian riding on each side of us, we were carried off through
the woods.