OSCEOLA'S REVENGE
In the meantime, Osceola had carried out his part of the arrangement
with Coacoochee in regard to the traitor, Charlo Emathla. Although
warned of the fate in store for him in case he persisted in
disregarding the wishes of his people and the commands of the other
chiefs, this Indian, dazzled by sight of the white man's gold,
flattered by his praise, and assured of his protection, persisted in
his course.
Osceola waited until certain that he had accepted a considerable sum
of money from the agent, and then prepared an ambush beside a trail
along which the doomed man must return to his camp. It was completely
successful; the victim fell at the first fire, and covering his face
with his hands, received the fatal blow without a word. Tied up in his
handkerchief was a quantity of gold and silver. This, Osceola declared
was the price of red men's blood, and, sternly forbidding his followers
to touch it, he flung it broadcast in every direction.
When news of this summary punishment of a renegade was received at
Fort King, it created a serious feeling of anxiety and alarm for the
future. This was shared by all except the agent, who declared, in his
pompous manner, that he knew the Indians too well to fear them. They
might murder one of their own kind here and there, but they would never
muster up courage to attack a white man. Oh no! the rascals were too
well aware of the consequences of such an act.
Another report that reached the fort about the same time increased the
uneasiness of its inmates. It was of six Indians who had been brutally
and wantonly set upon by a party of white land-grabbers. The Indians
were in camp, quietly engaged in cooking their supper, when the whites
rode up, made them prisoners, took away their rifles, and examined
their packs, appropriating to their own use whatever they fancied, and
destroying the rest. Then they tied the Indians to trees and began
whipping them.
While they were thus engaged, four other Indians appeared on the scene
and opened an ineffective fire upon the aggressors. The whites answered
with a volley from their rifles that killed one Indian and wounded
another. Both parties then withdrew from the field, the whites carrying
with them the rifles and baggage that they had stolen.
This outrage was termed an Indian encroachment, and a company of
militia was at once ordered out to chastise the Indians and protect
citizens.
By such acts as these the land-grabbers hoped to hasten the movements
of the Seminoles and compel them to evacuate the coveted territory the
more rapidly.
It was with gloomy forebodings that the little garrison of Fort King,
who, from long experience, had gained some knowledge of the Indian
character, heard of these and similar brutalities. They knew that
such things would drive the savage warriors to acts of retaliation,
and precipitate the crisis that now appeared so imminent. Their fears
were heightened by the fact that early in December the Indians ceased
visiting the fort, and it was reported that all their villages in that
part of the country were abandoned.
So the month dragged slowly away. Christmas Day was passed quietly
and without the usual festivities of the season. The anxiety of the
garrison would have been still further increased had they known that on
that very day Osceola and a band of picked warriors took up a position
in a dense hammock from which they could watch every movement in and
about the fort.
Osceola's object was the killing of the agent, whom he believed to be
directly implicated in the abduction of Chen-o-wah. So determined was
he to accomplish this, that he had decided if no better opportunity
offered to venture an attack against the fort itself, desperate as he
knew this measure to be.
Coacoochee at this time was gathering the warriors of the tribe and
preparing them for battle in the depths of the great Wahoo Swamp, the
hidden mysteries of which no white man had ever explored. It lay a
day's journey from Fort King, and to it were hastening many chiefs with
their followers.
On the morning of Christmas Day a negro runner, well-nigh exhausted
with the speed at which he had travelled, reached the swamp encampment
and asked to be led at once to Coacoochee, the war-chief. The moment he
had delivered his message the young warrior, trembling with excitement,
sought the other chiefs and made known to them the wonderful news he
had just received.
"This very day," he said, "the white soldiers have left Tampa to march
through the Seminole country. At the end of four days they hope to
reach Fort King. They are guided by one whom I thought dead, but who
sends word that he is alive. He is my friend and may be trusted. He
will bring them by this road. Shall we allow them to pass by us and
join their friends? Or shall we meet them in battle and prove to them
that our words were not empty boastings, when we said the Seminole
would fight for his land? The white man laughs at us and whips us as
though we were dogs. He takes from us that which pleases him, and gives
us nothing but blows in return. The Indian and the wolf together are
marks for his rifle. Let us show him that we are men and warriors.
Let us strike a blow that he will never forget. It may be that when
he finds the Seminole ready to fight, he will let us alone to dwell
peaceably in our own land. Are the words of Coacoochee good in the ears
of the tribe? Are his warriors glad when they hear them?"
A long discussion followed; but when it was ended, the counsel of the
young war-chief had been accepted.
Then through the dim forest aisles echoed the hollow booming of the
kasi-lalki, or great war-drum. Fleet runners were despatched in all
directions, some to hasten the incoming bands, and some to watch the
movements of the advancing troops. One was sent to bear the great news
to Osceola, and bid him hasten if he would take part in the first
battle of the war.
When this messenger reached those secreted in the hammock near Fort
King, and delivered his tidings, Osceola bade him return and tell
Coacoochee that if at the end of one more day his purpose had not been
accomplished, he would abandon it for the present and hasten to join
him.
On the following afternoon two figures were seen by the eager watchers
to leave the fort and stroll toward the trader's store a mile away.
Osceola's keen eye was the first to recognize them, and he knew that
the hour of his vengeance had arrived.
The two who strolled thus carelessly, apparently unconscious of danger,
were the agent, General Wiley Thompson, and his friend, Lieutenant
Constantine Smith. They were smoking their after-dinner cigars and
talking earnestly. Their subject was the rights and wrongs of the
Indian. As they reached the crest of a slight eminence, these words,
uttered in Wiley Thompson's most emphatic tone, reached the ears of
Osceola, who, with flashing eyes and compressed lips, peered at the
speaker from a thicket not ten yards away.
"I tell you, sir, the Indian is no better than any other savage beast,
and deserves no better treatment at our hands."
They were the last words he ever spoke; for at that instant there burst
from the thicket a blinding flash and the crashing report of thirty
rifles, discharged simultaneously. Both men were instantly killed, and
with yells of triumph the Indians rushed from their hiding-place, each
intent upon procuring a scalp or some other trophy of the first event
of the contest so long anticipated and now so sadly begun.
But Osceola's vengeance did not rest here. There were others within
reach who had aided in the stealing of his wife, and he bade his
warriors follow him to the store of the trader. A few minutes later
Rogers and his two clerks had been added to the list of victims. After
helping themselves to all the goods they could carry, the Indians set
fire to the store and started toward the Wahoo Swamp, where they hoped
to join Coacoochee in time to participate in the battle of which he
had sent them notice.
The little garrison of fifty men at Fort King heard the firing and the
war-cries, and saw the smoke from the blazing store rise above the
hammock. They knew only too well what these things meant; but supposing
the Indians to be in force and about to attack the post, they dared not
venture beyond its limits. They waited anxiously for the coming of the
promised reinforcements from Tampa, but weary days passed, and no word
came from them.