COACOOCHEE IN THE CLUTCHES OF WHITE RUFFIANS
As the young chief, obeying the stern command to halt, faced about, he
found himself covered by a rifle in the hands of his most vindictive
enemy. He knew in a moment that a crisis in their intercourse had
been reached, and almost expected to be shot down where he stood, so
malignant was the expression of the white man's face. Still, with the
wonderful self-control in times of danger that forms part of the Indian
character, he betrayed no emotion nor trace of fear. He only asked:
"Why should Coacoochee halt at the command of a white man?"
"Because, Coacoochee, if such is your outlandish name, the white man
chooses to make you do so, and because he wants to see your pass,"
replied Salano, sneeringly.
In the meantime the other riders had come up, and two of them,
dismounting, now stood on either side of the young Indian. In obedience
to an almost imperceptible nod from their leader, these two seized him,
and in a moment had pinioned his arms behind him. Coacoochee could
have flung them from him and made a dash for liberty even now. He did
make one convulsive movement in that direction; but like a flash the
thought came to him that this was precisely what his enemies desired
him to do, that they might thus have an excuse for killing him. So he
remained motionless, and quietly allowed himself to be bound.
At this a shade of disappointment swept over Salano's face, and he
muttered an oath. The truth was that, terrified by Coacoochee's recent
threat to have his life in exchange for that of Ul-we, which he had so
cruelly taken, the bully had determined to get rid of this dangerous
youth without delay, and had hit upon the present plan for so doing.
He had calculated that his victim would attempt to escape, or at least
offer some resistance. In either case he would have shot him down
without compunction, and afterwards if called to account for the act,
would justify himself on the ground that the Indian was transgressing
a law recently passed by the Legislature of Florida, which he, in his
character of Justice of the Peace, was attempting to enforce.
Still, his plan had not wholly failed, and he now proceeded to carry it
to an extremity.
"So you acknowledge that you hain't got no pass, do you, Injun? And are
roaming about the country, threatening white folks' lives, and doing
Lord knows what other deviltry on your own responsibility," he said.
"Now, then, listen to this." Drawing a paper from his pocket as he
spoke, the man read as follows:
"_An Act to prevent Indians from roaming at large throughout the
Territory_: Be it enacted by the Governor and Legislative Council of
the Territory, that from and after the passing of this act, if any
Indian, of the years of discretion, venture to roam or ramble beyond
the boundary lines of the reservations which have been assigned to
the tribe or nation to which said Indian belongs, it shall and may be
lawful for any person or persons to apprehend, seize, and take said
Indian, and carry him before some Justice of the Peace, who is hereby
authorized, empowered, and required to direct (if said Indian have
not a written permission from the agent to do some specific act) that
there shall be inflicted not exceeding thirty-nine (39) stripes, at
the discretion of the Justice, on the bare back of said Indian, and,
moreover, to cause the gun of said Indian, if he have any, to be taken
away from him and deposited with the colonel of the county or captain
of the district in which said Indian may be taken, subject to the order
of the Superintendent of Indian Affairs."
"Now, Mr. Injun, what have you got to say to that?" demanded Salano, as
he folded the paper and restored it to his pocket.
Although Coacoochee had not understood all that had just been read to
him, he comprehended that by a white man's law, an Indian might be
whipped like a slave or a dog, and his blood boiled hotly at the mere
thought of such an outrage. Still he replied to Salano's last question
with dignity and a forced composure.
"The Iste-chatte has not been told of this law. It is a new one to him,
and he has had no time to learn it. It was not put into the treaty.
Coacoochee is the son of a chief. If you lift a hand against him, you
lift it against the whole Seminole nation. If you strike him, the land
will run red with white men's blood. If you kill him, his spirit will
cry for vengeance, and no place can hide you from the fury of his
warriors. They will not eat nor drink nor sleep till they have found
you out, and torn the cowardly heart from your body."
"Oh come!" interrupted Salano, with an oath, "that will do. We don't
want to hear any more from you. This Injun is evidently a dangerous
character, gentlemen, and as a Justice of the Peace I shall deal with
him according to the law. We'll whip him first, and if that isn't
enough, we'll hang him afterwards."
The three men who accompanied Salano were his boon companions, and
were equally ready with himself to perform any deed of cruelty or
wickedness. They regarded an Indian as fair game, to be hunted and
even killed wherever found. Nothing would please them better than a
declaration of war against the Seminoles, and they were determined
to leave nothing undone to hasten so desirable an event. To whip an
Indian under cover of the law was rare sport, and the prospect of
hanging him afterwards filled them with a brutal joy. So they readily
obeyed the commands of their leader, and after fastening their horses
by the roadside, they threw a slip-noose over Coacoochee's head, and
drawing it close about his neck, led him a short distance within a
grove of trees, to one of which they made fast the loose end of the
rope. He was thus allowed to step a couple of paces in each direction.
Ripping his tunic from the neck downward with a knife, they stripped it
from his back, and all was in readiness for their devilish deed. Their
rifles had been left hanging to their saddles, but each man had brought
a raw-hide riding-whip with him, and these they now proposed to apply
to the bare back of their silent and unresisting victim.
"Ten cuts apiece, gentlemen!" cried Salano, with a ferocious laugh.
"That'll make the thirty-nine allowed by law, and one over for good
measure. I take great credit to myself for the idea of making the
prisoner fast by the neck only, and that with a slip-noose. He's
got plenty of room to dance, and if he looses his footing and hangs
himself, why, that'll be his lookout and not ours. At any rate, it will
be a good riddance of the varmint, and will relieve us from further
responsibility in the matter. I claim the first cut at him; so stand
back and give me room."
As the others moved back a few paces, the chief ruffian stepped up to
the young Indian, and laying the raw hide across the bared shoulders
as though to measure the width of the blow he was about to inflict, he
lifted it high above his head, saying as he did so:
"You'll cut my heart out, will you, Injun? We'll see now who is going
to do the cutting."
Then with a vicious hiss, the raw hide swept down with the full force
of the arm that wielded it.
There was no outcry and no movement on the part of the Indian, only his
flesh shrunk and quivered beneath the cruel blow, which left a livid
stripe across his shoulders.
That blow was to be paid for with hundreds of innocent lives, and
millions of dollars. It was to be felt throughout the length and
breadth of the land, and was to be atoned by rivers of blood. In a
single instant its fearful magic transformed the young Indian who
received it, from a quiet, peace-loving youth, with a generous,
affectionate nature, into a savage warrior, relentless and pitiless. It
gave to the Seminoles a leader whose very name should become a terror
to their enemies, and it precipitated one of the cruellest and most
stubbornly contested Indian wars ever waged on American soil.
Again was the whip uplifted, but before it could descend for a second
blow, the wretch who wielded it was dashed to the ground, and a white
man with blazing eyes stood over his prostrate figure. The newcomer
presented a cocked rifle at the startled spectators of the proceedings,
who had been too intent upon the perpetration of their crime to take
notice of his approach.
"Cowards!" he cried, in ringing tones. "Does it take four of you
to whip one Indian? Is this the way you continue a private quarrel
and gratify your devilish instincts? Bah! Such wretches as you are
a disgrace to manhood! You make me ashamed of my color, since it is
the same as your own. Did you not hear me give my word to this youth
that he should go in safety? How dared you then even contemplate this
outrage? Perhaps you thought that the word of an Englishman might be
defied with impunity. From this moment you will know better; for if
any one of you ever dares cross my path again, I will shoot him in his
tracks as I would any other noxious beast that curses the earth. Now
get you gone from this spot ere my forbearance is tempted beyond its
strength. Go back to the town, and there proclaim your iniquity, if you
dare. You will find few sympathizers in your attempt to precipitate an
Indian war, and deluge this fair land with blood. Go, and go on foot.
Your horses have already taken the road. Go, and if you even dare to
look back until out of my sight, a bullet from this rifle shall spur
your lagging pace. And you, Fontaine Salano, you brute of brutes, you
pariah dog, do you go with them. Away out of my sight, I say, lest I
cause this Indian to flay your bare back with the lashes you intended
for him."
[Illustration: THEN WITH A VICIOUS HISS THE RAWHIDE SWEPT DOWN WITH THE
FULL FORCE OF THE ARM THAT WIELDED IT.]
Whether the four men imagined that they were confronted by one bereft
of his senses, or whether they were indeed the cowards he called them,
it is impossible to say. Certain it is that they received the young
man's scathing words in silence, and, when ordered to leave, they took
their departure with a precipitate haste that would have been comical
under less tragic circumstances.
The stranger followed them to the edge of the wood, and watched them
until they disappeared in the direction of the town. Then he returned
to where Coacoochee, who had not yet seen the face of his deliverer,
still remained bound to the tree. As with a keen-edged knife he cut
the thongs confining the young Indian's arms, and the rope about his
neck, thus allowing the latter to face him, Coacoochee gave a start of
surprise. His new friend was the same who, but an hour or so before,
had saved him from Fontaine Salano's pistol in the streets of St.
Augustine.