NITA HEARS THAT COACOOCHEE IS DEAD
Long and anxiously had the friends of Coacoochee in St. Augustine
awaited the result of their effort to aid him in regaining his freedom.
They dared not attempt to visit him again, lest by so doing they should
arouse suspicion and injure his cause; for the two principal chiefs
were so closely guarded that visitors were only admitted to them at
long intervals and as a great favor. So Nita was forced to endure a
weary period of suspense and feverish anxiety, that caused her to droop
like a transplanted forest lily.
Although Ralph Boyd sought daily for information concerning the
prisoners, he could gain little, save that of a depressing nature, much
of which he and Anstice dared not share with their guest. He heard
that Coacoochee's strength was so weakened on confinement that it was
believed he could not live much longer, and there was a rumor that he
and Osceola were to be hanged for their perversity in continuing the
war.
In the meantime, the number of Indians held captive in St. Augustine
had been greatly increased by the bands of Micanopy, Cloud, Tuskogee,
and Nocoosee, all of whom, urged to do so by the Cherokee delegation,
had accepted General Jesup's invitation to meet him for a peace talk.
Again was the flag of truce violated, again was treachery substituted
for honest fighting, and again were the too trusting savages seized,
disarmed, and sent to St. Augustine as prisoners of war.
So many captives were now crowded into the ancient city, that, in order
to secure them beyond all hope of escape, as well as to make room for
others who, it was hoped, might be enticed to _make peace_ in a similar
manner, it was deemed advisable to transfer them to Charleston. There
they could be detained in safety until the time came for their final
removal to the west. Preparations for this movement were made with
great secrecy, that the Indians might not learn of it until the last
moment. Transports were secured, and finally it was made known to the
officers of the post only that an embarkation would be effected on the
following day.
Rumors of the contemplated removal had reached the Boyds, and had, of
course, been communicated to Nita. She declared that, if Coacoochee
did not succeed in escaping before it took place, she should resume
her position as the adopted daughter of Philip Emathla, and so follow
her lover into exile. In this determination, Anstice warmly upheld
her friend, but begged her to wait until the latest possible moment,
before exchanging her present security for the uncertain fate of a
captive.
One evening, Lieutenant Douglass, who, having safely passed the ordeal
of a court-martial, and, honorably acquitted, had been restored to
duty, called on the Boyds. In course of conversation with Anstice he
casually remarked, that the morrow would probably offer the last chance
they would ever have of seeing their friend Coacoochee.
"What do you mean?" asked the startled girl.
"I mean that the Indians in St. Augustine are to be embarked for
Charleston to-morrow morning; and Coacoochee, poor fellow, is reported
to be in such wretched health that it is not probable he can live long,
especially in a climate so much colder than this."
Nita, who sat in another part of the room, listlessly engaged in a bit
of fancy-work, glanced up quickly as she caught the name of her captive
lover. She did not hear what else the young officer said, and waited
eagerly for his going, that she might question her friend. Anstice, on
her part, was so impatient to communicate to Nita the news she had just
learned, and became so absent-minded in her conversation with Douglass,
that he suspected something had gone wrong, and so took his departure
earlier than usual.
Long and earnestly did the two girls, who had grown to love each other
like sisters, talk together that night. Very early the next morning,
escorted by Ralph Boyd, they left the house and turned in the direction
of Philip Emathla's encampment. Nita had resumed her Indian dress, but
over it she wore the same long cloak that had served to disguise her on
a former occasion. Its hood was drawn over her head and about her face,
so that but little of her features could be distinguished.
As they hastened through the narrow streets of the quaintly built city,
their attention was attracted by a clatter of iron-shod hoofs, and a
mounted officer in service uniform came dashing toward them. It was
Irwin Douglass, and he reined up sharply at sight of his friends. As he
lifted his cap to the ladies, he exclaimed:
"Well, you are early birds this morning! I suppose you have heard the
great news and are come out to verify it?"
"No, we haven't heard any news; what is it?" asked Boyd.
"Coacoochee has escaped from the fort! got out somehow during the storm
last night, and made off. The general is in a terrible temper over it.
I am ordered out with a scouting party to see if we can pick up the
trail. So I must hurry on. Good-bye."
In another minute the bearer of this startling bit of news was
clattering away down the street, while the three who were left stood
staring blankly at one another.
Nita was saying over and over to herself, "Coacoochee has escaped, has
escaped, and is free. Oh! how happy I am! And that soldier is going to
try and recapture him. Oh, how I hate him! But he cannot. Coacoochee is
free, and will never let them take him again. Oh, how happy I am!"
As Anstice Boyd reflected upon the full meaning of what she had just
heard, her heart was crying out: "Coacoochee has escaped, and I aided
him. Now Irwin has gone to find him. They will meet and kill each
other. I know they will! Oh! why did I do it? Why did I do it?"
Ralph Boyd expressed his feelings aloud by exclaiming: "That is one
of the best bits of news I have heard in many a day. It will continue
the war, no doubt, but I don't care if it does. Serve the sneaks right
who thought to end it by treachery. They will get some greatly needed
lessons in honest fighting now."
"You don't mean Mr. Douglass, brother?"
"Douglass? No! Bless his honest soul! He's no sneak, but only an
unfortunate victim of circumstances. But never you fear, sister.
Douglass won't catch Coacoochee, even if he has to ride half around
the territory to avoid him. He is too honorable a fellow to do a mean
thing, or forget a debt of gratitude. If Douglass is the only one sent
after him, Coacoochee is all right. I am afraid, though, there are
others. I'll find out as soon as I get you two back to the house.
What! Not going back?"
"Not just yet, brother. Nita wants to be the first to tell the great
news to Coacoochee's father, so as to give the old man courage to bear
his exile and his sad journey. She wants to bid him good-bye too, for
of course she will not go with him now."
"Of course not, and I suppose we must let her do as she wishes," agreed
Boyd, reluctantly. "I hope, though, she will be very careful not to be
recognized."
"I will see that she is careful, brother."
So the three continued their way to the Indian camp, which they found
in a state of dire confusion on account of the order for removal just
received. There were already many white persons in the camp; soldiers
who were hastening the preparations, and mere curiosity-seekers who
were retarding them by their useless presence. All of these, as well
as the Indians themselves, gazed curiously at the two ladies and the
stalwart young Englishman, who walked directly to the tent of Philip
Emathla. The old man, who was sitting in a sort of a daze just outside,
recognized Ralph Boyd at once, and when Nita stooped and whispered
in his ear, he immediately rose and followed her inside the canvas
shelter. Anstice also went inside, and the flap curtaining the entrance
was dropped, leaving Boyd outside on guard.
As he gazed curiously on the novel scene about him, and even walked a
few steps to one side the better to observe it, a white man of sinister
aspect passed him twice, each time regarding him furtively but keenly.
Suddenly he darted to the tent, pulled aside the flap, and thrust his
head inside.
A startled cry from the interior attracted Boyd's attention, and, ere
the man had time for more than a glimpse, he was seized by the collar,
and jerked violently backward.
"What do you mean, scoundrel! by your rascally intrusion into other
folk's privacy?" demanded the young Englishman, hotly. "I've a mind to
give you the kicking you deserve."
"I didn't mean nothin', cap'n," whined the man, squirming in the
other's fierce clutch. "I didn't know thar was any privacy in thar. I'm
thought 'twas only Injuns; and I'm got orders to take that tent down
immejiate."
"Well, you won't take it down, not yet awhile; and you'll vanish from
here as quick as possible. So get!"
With the utterance of this expressive Americanism the speaker released
the man, and at the same time administered a hearty kick that caused
its recipient to howl with anguish. Ere he disappeared he turned a look
of venomous hate at his assailant and muttered:
"I'll git even with you for this, curse you! Anyway, I saw what I
wanted to see, and I know whar the gal's to be found."
He was Ross Ruffin, Mr. Troup Jeffers' human jackal, who, at the
bidding of his master, had been hanging about the Indian camp for
weeks, watching for the reappearance of Nita Pacheco. His suspicions
had just been aroused by the disappearance, into Philip Emathla's tent,
of two ladies, and in the single glimpse caught by his bold manoeuvre
they had been confirmed. He had seen Nita, whose cloak having fallen
to the ground, was fully revealed in her Indian costume, standing with
her hands on the old chieftain's shoulders and imparting to him the
glorious news of Coacoochee's escape from captivity. Now all that he
had to do was to discover whether the girl accompanied the Indians to
Charleston or remained behind, and this information he had acquired ere
nightfall.
Nita had not seen him, and it was Anstice who uttered the cry that
attracted her brother's attention. Of course neither of them recognized
the man, nor when, a little later, they returned to the house that Nita
had believed on leaving she should never see again, did they notice
that he was stealthily following them at a distance. After that he
watched the embarkation of the captives, to assure himself that Nita
Pacheco did not accompany them. As the transports sailed, Ross Ruffin
also left the city, and that night he held a conference with Mr. Troup
Jeffers.
The inmates of the Boyd house experienced mingled feelings of
satisfaction at Coacoochee's escape, apprehension lest he should be
recaptured, and anxiety in behalf of their friend Douglass. Only Nita
was confident and light hearted.
"He will not be caught," she said, "nor will he harm your friend; we
shall hear from him very soon by some means."
She was right; they did hear very soon, and when the news came, it was
of such a terrible nature that the others would gladly have kept it
from her. Lieutenant Douglass, returning at nightfall from his scout,
went directly to the Boyds' house; and, in answer to the eager queries
that greeted his entrance, said:
"Yes; I found him, poor fellow! About a dozen miles from the city we
met a squad of volunteer cavalry. In reply to my question if they had
seen any sign of Coacoochee, who had just escaped from the fort, one of
them said: 'You bet we have, cap'n, and here's his scalp.' With that--"
Here the speaker was interrupted by a stifled cry and a heavy fall.
Nita Pacheco lay unconscious on the floor. The two men bore her to
a bed in an adjoining room, where they left her to the gentle care
of Anstice. When they returned to the outer room, Douglass asked
curiously:
"What does it mean, Boyd? What possible interest can your guest have in
Coacoochee?"
"My dear fellow, I see now that we ought to have told you sooner, and
so saved her this cruel blow. She is Nita Pacheco, Spanish by descent,
but Indian by association and bringing up. She is the adopted daughter
of Philip Emathla, and the betrothed of Coacoochee."
"Good Heavens!" cried Douglass. "No wonder she fell when struck such a
blow. What a brute she must think me."
"Don't blame yourself, old man," said Boyd, soothingly; "the fault lies
entirely with us. But are you certain that Coacoochee is dead?"
"The man who scalped him said he knew him well, and could swear to his
identity. We went on to examine and bury the body, and it answered
fully the description of Coacoochee. Oh yes, there is no doubt that
he is dead, though his companion has thus far eluded all search. In
one way, I suppose his death will be a good thing for the country; but
I must confess, that for the sake of that poor girl, I would gladly
restore him to life if I could, and take the consequences. Well, good
night. Make the best apologies you can for me to Miss Anstice."