MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE OF A SENTINEL
For a full minute Ralph Boyd stood bewildered in the middle of the
road. In vain did he look for some sign and listen for some sound that
would betray the whereabouts of those who, but a moment before, had
stood with him. The tall grasses waved and the flowers nodded before a
gentle breeze, but it was not strong enough to move the stiff leaves
of the palmetto scrub, nor was there any motion that might be traced
to the passing of human beings among their hidden stalks. From the
feathery tips of the cabbage palms came a steady fluttering that rose
or fell with the breathings of the wind, and in far-away thickets could
be heard the cooing of wood doves, and the occasional cheery note of a
quail, but no other sound broke the all-pervading silence.
All at once from a hammock growing at a considerable distance from
where the young man stood there came to his ears the thrilling sound of
a Seminole war-cry:
"Yo-ho-ee yo-ho-ee yo-ho-ee-che!"
It was followed by another and another, until the listener counted
seven of the ominous cries in as many distinct voices, and knew that
they were uttered by the seven Indians who had stood with him in the
road.
Unaccustomed to the ways of red men, Boyd could not understand how they
had glided so noiselessly and swiftly away from him.
"It is like magic," he muttered, "and gives one a creepy feeling. What
a terrible thing a war with such as they would be in this country,
where everything is so favorable to them and so unfavorable to the
movements of troops. And yet war is the very thing toward which the
reckless course of politicians, slave-hunters, and land-grabbers
is hurrying the government. Well, I shan't take part in it, that's
certain, though my present duty as a white man is plainly to ride back
to St. Augustine and give the colonel information of this present band
of Indians. I wouldn't think of doing so, only for fear that, smarting
under the insult to that fine young fellow Coacoochee, they will seek
revenge and visit the sins of the guilty upon innocent heads. If
Coacoochee has only followed my advice and gone directly back to the
reservation, and to his own place, there won't be any trouble; but if
he is going to hang around here, trying to lift a few scalps, as I am
afraid he is, he may get himself into a fix from which I can't help
him."
It must not be supposed that Ralph Boyd had been standing in the middle
of the road all this time. He was in the saddle even before the sound
of the Indian war-cries informed him of the direction they had taken
and where they were. Directly afterwards he put spurs to his horse, and
during the latter part of his soliloquy was galloping rapidly back over
the road he had just come.
Although Boyd knew Salano to be a bitter and unscrupulous enemy, he had
no hesitation in returning to St. Augustine on his account, or for fear
of the others with whose cruel sport he had so summarily interfered. He
did not believe they would dare publish what they had done, or care to
acknowledge that they had been driven off and compelled to forego their
intentions by a single man.
To satisfy himself on this point, he made a few inquiries on reaching
the city, and finding that nothing was known of the recent adventure,
he went to the colonel commanding the small garrison stationed in the
city and informed him of the presence near it of an armed band of seven
Indian warriors. He also expressed his fear that they intended mischief
to some of the plantations along the St. John's.
The colonel listened attentively to all that he had to say and thanked
him for the information. Darkness had fallen by this time, and it was
too late to do anything that night, but the officer promised to send
out a scouting party of twenty troopers at daylight. In the meantime
he begged that Boyd would remain as his guest over night, and in the
morning consent to guide the troops to the place where he had seen
the Indians, which the latter readily agreed to do. He did this the
more willingly because he had learned that the scouting party was to
be commanded by Irwin Douglass, a young lieutenant with whom he had
formed a pleasant acquaintance, and who had already visited him at the
plantation.
When, after an early and hurried cup of coffee with the colonel and
Douglass the following morning, Boyd joined the soldiers, to whom for
a short distance he was to act as guide, he was amazed to find that
Fontaine Salano had applied for and received permission to accompany
them. He wondered at this as the troop clattered noisily with jingling
sabres and bit-chains out of the quiet old town. Was Salano's hatred of
the young Indian whom he had so cruelly wronged so bitter that he was
determined to seize every opportunity for killing him? Boyd could think
of no other reason why the man, naturally so indolent, should undertake
this forced march with all the discomforts that must necessarily attend
it.
The spring morning was just cool enough to be exhilarating. The fresh
air was laden with the perfume of orange groves, and from their green
coverts innumerable birds poured forth their choicest melody. The
cavalry horses, in high spirits from long idleness, pranced gaily along
the narrow streets and were with difficulty reined to a decorous trot.
Once free from the town and out in the broad plain of sand and
chaparral that lay beyond, the pace was quickened, and for several
miles the troop swung cheerily along at a hand gallop, with polished
weapons and accoutrements flashing brightly in the rays of the newly
risen sun.
A halt was called at the place where Boyd had encountered the Indians,
and scouts were sent in search of signs. These easily found the camp
from which Coacoochee had started on his visit to town the morning
before, and finally discovered a fresh trail leading to the west or
toward the St. John's.
It was not easy for the troops, inexperienced in Indian warfare, to
follow this on horseback, and they soon lost it completely. This did
not greatly disturb Lieutenant Douglass; for, being satisfied that the
plantations along the river were the objective points of those whom he
was pursuing, he determined to push on toward them without losing any
time in attempting to rediscover the trail.
That evening they reached the great river and encamped near it without
having discovered any further Indian sign, or finding that the few
widely scattered settlers had been given any cause to suspect the
presence of an enemy.
During that night, however, two startling incidents occurred. The first
of these was the complete and mysterious disappearance of one of the
sentinels who guarded the camp. He had been stationed not far from the
edge of the forest, but within easy hail of his sleeping comrades. The
sergeant had given him particular cautions regarding the dangers of
his post, and warned him to be keenly alert to every sound, even the
slightest. He had answered with a laugh, that his ears were too long
to permit anything human to get within a rod of him without giving him
warning, and he declared his intention of firing in the direction of
any suspicious sound.
So they left him, and an hour later the corporal of the guard, visiting
the post, found it vacant. In the darkness it was useless to hunt
for the missing sentry, and so, without giving a general alarm, the
corporal detailed another sentinel to the place of the missing man, and
remained with him on the post until morning. They neither saw nor heard
anything to arouse their suspicions, but as soon as daylight revealed
surrounding objects, they could readily note signs of a struggle at one
end of the beat paced by their unfortunate predecessor.
There were no traces of blood, nor in the trail of moccasined feet
leading away from the spot could any imprint of the heavy cavalry
boots worn by the missing soldier be found. The trail led to a small
creek that emptied into the river just above the camp, but there it
ended. Both banks of this creek were carefully examined for a mile up
and down, but they revealed no sign to denote that they had ever been
trodden by human feet.
There was nothing more to be done. The man was reported as missing,
and a riderless horse was led by one of the troopers on that day's
march,--but this mysterious disappearance and unknown fate of their
comrade served to open the eyes of the soldiers to the dreadful
possibilities of Indian warfare.