THE SLAVE-CATCHERS AT WORK
The following day was also passed by Coacoochee and Louis in pleasant
wanderings about the quaint little city whose every sight and sound
was to them so full of novel interest. At length in the early dusk
of evening they set forth on their return to Philip Emathla's camp,
conversing eagerly as they walked concerning what they had seen. So
occupied were they that they paid little heed to their immediate
surroundings, and as they gained the outskirts of the town were
startled at being commanded to halt by a man who had approached them
unobserved. It was Troup Jeffers, the slave-catcher, who had been
watching the lads for some time and awaiting just such an opportunity
as the present for carrying out his evil designs.
"What's your name?" he demanded, placing himself squarely in front of
the young Creole.
"Louis Pacheco."
"Just so. Son of old Pacheco and a nigger woman. Nigger yourself. My
nigger, sold to me by your dad just afore he died. Hain't wanted you up
to this time. Now want you to come along with me."
"I'll do nothing of the kind!" cried the lad, hotly. "When you say that
I am your slave, or the slave of any one else, _you lie_. My mother was
a free woman, and I was born free. To that I can take my oath, and so
can my friend here. So stand aside, sir, and let me pass."
"Ho, ho! my black fighting cock," answered the trader, savagely;
"you'll pay sweetly for those words afore I'm through with ye. And
you'll set up a nigger's oath and an Injun's oath agin that of a white
man, will ye? Why, you crumbly piece of yellar gingerbread, don't you
know that when a white man swears to a thing, his word will be taken
agin that of all the niggers and Injuns in the country? Cattle of that
kind can't testify in United States courts, as you'll find out in a
hurry if you ever try it on. Now you're my property, and the sooner you
realize it, the better it will be for you. I've filed my sworn claim
with the agent, and it's been allowed. Here's his order for the Injuns
to deliver you up. So I'd advise you to go along peaceably with me if
you don't want to get yourself into a heap of trouble. Grab him, Ross!"
Mr. Troup Jeffers had only talked to detain the lads until the arrival
of his burly confederate, who was following at a short distance behind
him. As the moment for action arrived, he seized Louis by one arm,
while Ross Ruffin grasped the other.
Coacoochee, knowing little of the ways of the whites, had not realized
what was taking place until this moment; but with the seizure of his
friend the horrid truth was made clear to him. He was called a dreamer,
but no one witnessing the promptness of his action at this crisis would
have supposed him to be such. Ross Ruffin was nearest him, and at the
very moment of his laying hands on Louis there came a flash of steel.
The next instant Coacoochee's keen-bladed hunting-knife was sunk deep
into the man's arm just below the shoulder.
With a yell of pain and terror, the "jackal" let go his hold. Louis
tore himself free from the grasp of his other assailant, and in a
twinkling the two lads were running with the speed of startled deer in
the direction of their own camp, while an ineffective pistol shot rang
out spitefully behind them.
A few minutes later they had gained the camp, secured their rifles,
told King Philip of what had just taken place, crossed the San
Sebastian, and were lost to sight in the dark shadows of the forest on
its further side.
They had hardly disappeared before St. Augustine was in an uproar. An
Indian had dared draw his knife on a white man who was only exercising
his legal rights and claiming his lawful property. An Indian had
actually aided in the escape of a slave, when by solemn treaty he was
bound to use every effort to deliver such persons to their masters.
The act was an intolerable outrage and must be promptly punished.
Within an hour, therefore, an angry mob of armed citizens headed by
Troup Jeffers had surrounded Philip Emathla's encampment. They were
confronted by his handful of sturdy warriors, ready to fight with the
fury of tigers brought to bay, and but for the determined interference
of the Indian agent, who had hastened to the scene of disturbance, a
bloody battle would have ensued then and there. This officer begged the
whites to leave the affair with him, assuring them that the Indians
should be made to afford ample satisfaction for the outrage, and taught
a lesson that would prevent its repetition. At first the citizens would
not listen to him; but the cupidity of the slave-catcher being aroused
by the promise of a handsome pecuniary compensation for his loss,
he joined his voice to that of the agent, and finally succeeded in
persuading the mob to retire.
Two thousand dollars of government money due King Philip's band was
in that agent's hands and should have been paid over on the following
day. Now that official gave the aged chieftain his choice of delivering
Coacoochee up for punishment, and Louis Pacheco to the man who claimed
him as his property, or of relinquishing this money and signing for it
a receipt in full.
The alternative thus presented was a bitter one. The loss of their
money would involve Philip Emathla and his band in new difficulties
with the whites, to whom they were in debt for goods that were to be
paid for on the receipt of their annuity. The old man knew that his
creditors would have no mercy upon him, but would seize whatever of
his possessions they could attach. Nor could mercy be expected for his
son and Louis Pacheco should they be delivered into the hands of their
enemies.
Long did the perplexed chieftain sit silent and with bowed head,
considering the situation. His warriors, grouped at a short distance,
watched him with respectful curiosity. At length he submitted the case
to them and asked their advice.
With one accord, and without hesitation, they answered: "Let the
Iste-hatke (white man) keep his money. We can live without it; but if
one hair of Coacoochee's head should be harmed, our hearts would be
heavy with a sadness that could never be lifted."
So Philip Emathla affixed his mark to the paper that the agent had
prepared for him, and was allowed to depart in peace the next day. Of
the money thus obtained from the Indians two hundred dollars served to
salve the wound in Ross Ruffin's arm, and eight hundred satisfied for
the time being the claim of Mr. Troup Jeffers, the slave-trader. What
became of the balance is unknown, for the agent's books contain no
record of the transaction.
Coacoochee and Louis had halted within friendly shadows on the edge
of the forest, and there held themselves in readiness to fly to the
assistance of their friends, should sounds of strife proclaim an attack
upon the encampment. Here they remained during the night, and only
rejoined Philip Emathla on his homeward march the following day. When
they learned from him the particulars of the transaction by which their
liberty had been assured, both of them were bitterly indignant at the
injustice thus perpetrated.
The indignation of the young creole was supplemented by a profound
gratitude, and he swore that if the time ever came when it should lie
in his power to repay the debt thus incurred, he would do so with
interest many times compounded. Now, feeling secure in the freedom
for which so great a price had been paid, he returned to his home on
the Tomoka, where for several months he devoted himself assiduously
to labor on the little plantation that afforded the sole support of
his mother, his sister, and himself. During this time of diligent
toil, though he found no opportunity for communicating with his Indian
friends of the lake region, they were often in his thoughts, and his
heart warmed toward them with an ever-increasing gratitude as he
reflected upon the awful fate from which they had saved him.
While the busy home life of the family on the Tomoka flowed on thus
peacefully and happily, there came one evening a timid knock at
the closed door of their house, and a weak voice, speaking in negro
dialect, begged for admittance.
Louis, holding a candle, opened the door, and as he did so, was struck
a blow on the head that stretched him senseless across the threshold.
As Nita, who was the only other occupant of the house at that moment,
witnessed this dastardly act, she uttered a piercing scream and was
about to fling herself on her brother's body, but was roughly pushed
back by two white men, who entered the room, and dragging Louis back
from the door, closed it behind them.
One of the men, who were those precious villains Troup Jeffers and Ross
Ruffin, bound the wrists of the unconscious youth behind him, while the
other ordered Nita to bring them food, threatening to kill her brother
before her eyes in case she refused. The terrified girl hastened to
obey; but, as with trembling hands she prepared the table with all
that the house afforded in the way of provisions, her mind was filled
with wild schemes of escape and rescue. Her mother was absent, having
gone to sit with the dying child of their only near neighbors, a negro
family living a short distance down the river.
While the girl thus planned, and strove to conceal her agony of thought
beneath an appearance of bustling activity, the slave-catchers dashed
water in her brother's face and used other means to restore him to
consciousness. In this they were finally successful.
The moment that he was sufficiently recovered to realize his situation
and recognize the men who had treated him so shamefully, he demanded to
be set at liberty, claiming that he was free by birth, and that even if
he were not, the price of his freedom had been paid several times over
by the annuity that Philip Emathla had relinquished on his account.
"Oh no, you're not free, my lad, as you'll soon discover," replied Mr.
Troup Jeffers, with a grin. "You're property, you are. You was born
property, and you'll always be property. Just now you're my property,
and will be till I can get you to a market where your value will be
appreciated. As for the cash handed over by that old fool of an Injun,
it warn't more than enough to pay for the cut that young catamount give
my friend here, and for my injured feelings. It warn't never intended
to pay for you. So shut your mouth and come along quietly with us, or
we'll make it mighty oncomfortable for ye. D'ye hear?"
"But my father was a white man, my mother was a free woman, and I was
born--"
"Shut up! I tell ye!" shouted the trader, angrily.
Determined to be heard, the youth again opened his mouth to speak,
when, with a snarl of rage, the brute sprang forward and dealt him
several savage kicks with a heavy cowhide boot that proved effective
in procuring the required silence.
While the attention of both men was thus engaged, Nita managed to slip
unobserved from a back door of the house. With the swiftness of despair
she fled along the shadowy forest trail that led to the neighbor's
cabin, a quarter of a mile away. There she hoped to obtain help for her
brother's rescue. When she reached it, she found to her dismay that
it was dark and empty. Its door stood wide open, and the poor girl
received no answer to her terrified callings.