We journeyed throughout the whole night. The burnt woods were left
behind, and having crossed a savanna, we rode for several hours through
a forest of giant oaks, palms, and magnolias. I knew this by the
fragrance of the magnolia blossoms, that, after the fetid atmosphere
that we had been breathing, smelt sweet and refreshing. Just as day was
breaking, we arrived at an opening in the woods, where our captors
halted.
The opening was of small extent--a few acres only--bounded on all sides
by a thick forest of palms, magnolias, and live-oaks. Their foliage
drooped to the ground, so that the glade appeared encompassed by a vast
wall of green, through which no outlet was discernible.
Through the grey light, I perceived the outlines of an encampment.
There were two or three tents with horses picketed around them, and
human forms, some of them upright and moving about, others recumbent
upon the grass, singly, or in clusters, as if sleeping together for
mutual warmth. A large fire was burning in the midst, and around it
were men and women, seated and standing.
Within the limits of this camp we had been carried, but no time was left
us for observation. The moment we halted, we were dragged roughly from
our horses, and flung prostrate upon the grass. We were next turned
upon our backs. Thongs were tied around our waists and ancles, our arms
and limbs drawn out to their full extent, and we were staked firmly to
the ground, like hides spread out for drying. Of course, in this
attitude, we could see no more of the camp--nor the trees--nor the earth
itself--only the blue heavens above us.
Under any circumstances, the position would have been painful, but my
wounded arm rendered it excruciating.
Our arrival had set the camp in motion. Men came out to meet us, and
women stooped over us, as we lay on our backs. There were Indian squaws
among them, but, to my surprise, I noticed that most of them were of
African race--mulattoes, samboes, and negresses!
For some time they stood over, jeering and taunting us. They even
proceeded to inflict torture--they spit on us, pulled out handfuls of
our hair by the roots, and stuck sharp thorns into our skin, all the
while yelling with a fiendish delight, and jabbering an unintelligible
patois, that appeared a mixture of Spanish and Yamassee.
My fellow-captive fared as badly as myself. The homogenous colour of
his skin elicited no sympathy from these female fiends. Black and white
were alike the victims of their hellish spite.
Part of their jargon I was able to comprehend, aided by a slight
acquaintance with the Spanish tongue, I made out what was intended to be
done with us--we were to be _tortured_.
We had been brought to the camp to be _tortured_. We were to be the
victims of a grand spectacle, and these infernal hags were exulting in
the prospect of the sport our sufferings should afford them. For this
only had, we been _captured_, instead of being _killed_.
Into whose hound hands had we fallen? Were they human beings? Were
they Indians? Could they be Seminoles, whose behaviour to their
captives hitherto, had repelled every insinuation of torture?
A shout arose as if in answer to my questions. The voices of all around
were mingled in the cry, but the words were the same:
"_Mulato-mico! mulato-mico! viva, mulato-mico_!"
The trampling of many hoofs announced the arrival of a band. They were
the warriors who had been engaged in the fight--who had conquered and
made us captive. Only half a dozen guards had been with us on the
night-march, and had reached the camp at daybreak. The new comers were
the main body, who had stayed upon the field to complete the
despoliation of their fallen foes. I could not see them, though they
were near, for I heard their horses trampling around.