THE BRAVEST GIRL IN FLORIDA
During the month that followed Nita's departure there was in Fort
Brooke but one all-absorbing topic of conversation and speculation.
Would the brave girl succeed in saving the life of her lover? or
must he die like a dog, without ever again treading the soil of his
native land? Except for being kept a prisoner, the young war-chief was
treated with distinguished consideration, and every want that he made
known was gratified, so far as was consistent with safety. At the same
time, he was still manacled, and his irons, together with those of his
comrades, were carefully examined by a blacksmith, under supervision
of an officer, every morning and evening. The guard on the transport
was doubled, and at night a chain of sentinels was posted along such
portions of the shore as lay adjacent to the ship. No boats were
allowed to approach or leave the floating prison between sunset and
sunrise, and no other precaution that human ingenuity could devise for
the safe-keeping of the captives was neglected.
Ralph Boyd, often accompanied by some officer from the post, made
daily visits to cheer Coacoochee with his belief that all was going
well, and to carry him the very latest news. On the occasion of his
first visit he took Anstice, who claimed the privilege of telling the
young chief what his sweetheart had undertaken in his behalf. As the
stern warrior listened to the simple recital, his face became very
tender, and a tear, hastily brushed away, glistened for an instant on
his cheek. Then he said: "Now do I know that all will go well," and
from that moment he was cheerfully confident of the final result.
No word was received from the messengers for a week, at the end of
which time one of them returned, bringing with him ten warriors and
a number of women and children. The messenger reported that, but for
Nita, their mission, so far at least as this particular band was
concerned, would have been fruitless. Upon their approach, the warriors
had sternly ordered them away, covering them with their rifles, and
threatening to shoot if they dared speak of peace. Upon that, Nita, who
had until then remained in the background, boldly advanced to the very
muzzles of the brown rifles, resolutely pushed them aside, and then
pleaded so effectively with the warriors who held them that, ere she
finished, their hearts were softened, and they announced themselves as
not only ready to surrender, but willing to follow their young chief
wherever he might lead them.
Coacoochee had given General Worth a bundle of small sticks which, by
their number, represented the entire strength of his band. Upon the
arrival at the fort of these forerunners, the general counted them, and
returned to Coacoochee an equal number of his sticks. From day to day
after this, other small parties of Coacoochee's followers straggled
in, and for every new arrival a stick was sent to the young chief,
who gloated over his increasing pile as a miser over his hoard, or a
politician over the incoming votes that promise to save him from defeat.
In the meantime Nita, with an incredible exhibition of endurance, was
scouring the distant country lying about the headwaters of the St.
John's and Kissimmee. Here in little groups, the widely scattered
members of Coacoochee's once numerous and formidable band had sought
refuge amid the vast swamps and overflowed lands, which constitute that
portion of Florida. Here, from swamp to swamp, from one tiny wooded
island to another, or from hammock to hammock, the dauntless girl
followed them. Sometimes she was accompanied by a small escort; but
more often she was alone. There were days on which she had food, but
many others on which she went hungry. The howl of the wolf became her
familiar lullaby, while the scaly alligator and venomous water-moccasin
regarded her invasion of their haunts with angry eyes. She travelled
on horseback, by canoe, and on foot, scorched by noontide suns, and
drenched by heavy night-dews that fell like rain, but always the image
of Coacoochee was in her heart, as she bore his _talk_ from band to
band of his scattered followers.
As fast as they could be persuaded to go, she sent them to the far-away
fort by the salt waters of the west, and bade them hasten or they would
be too late. She, too, knew the number of Coacoochee's warriors, and
kept a close count of those who had gone, as well as of those who still
remained to be persuaded. With jealous care she noted the passage of
each day, and murmured that they should fly the more swiftly as the
fatal date drew near.
At length the last hiding-place was found, and the last sullen group
of eight warriors, with their women and children, was persuaded to go
in with her who was beloved of their young chief. By hard riding they
could reach the fort on the twenty-ninth day, leaving but one to spare
for safety. The brave girl, who had borne up so wonderfully during this
month of suspense, was filled with joy at the success of her mission.
At the same time, she was so utterly wearied that she often slept, even
as she rode, and but for the quick support of willing hands, would have
fallen from her saddle. But she would not pause. There would be plenty
of time for resting afterwards. Now, they must push on.
On the evening of the last day but one of the month, the fort was only
a score of miles away. They would keep on and reach it that night. So
said Nita Pacheco. But there were enemies on whom she had not counted.
Halec Tustenugge, with the fourteen Miccosouky warriors who had escaped
with him from their ravaged village, roamed that part of the country
and infested that particular road like ravening beasts. They had sworn
never to surrender themselves, nor allow others to do so if they could
prevent them. Now they confronted the little party from the eastern
swamps, and bade them turn back or suffer the consequences.
There was a moment of hesitation and consultation. Then Nita Pacheco
sprang to the front.
"Are the warriors trained by Coacoochee to be told what they shall do,
and what they shall not do, by a pack of Miccosouky dogs?" she cried.
"No! It cannot be! Let them get out of our way, or we will trample them
in the dust! Yo-ho-ee yo-ho-ee-chee!"
As this war-cry of the Wildcat rang out on the evening air, and Nita's
horse sprang from under the stinging lash, in the direction of those
who blocked the road, the warriors of Coacoochee, echoing madly the
cry of their leader, plied whip and spur in an effort to charge by her
side. The Miccosoukies, though numbering nearly two to one, were on
foot, while Nita's followers were mounted. The former fired one point
blank volley, and then fled precipitately from before the on-rushing
horses.
The battle had been fought and won, and the enemy dispersed in less
than a single minute; but it was the victors who suffered the heaviest
loss. One warrior killed outright, two more wounded, one horse so
severely wounded that he had to be killed; and, what no one noticed at
first, not even Nita herself, a stream of blood spurting from an arm of
the girl who had led the charge.
So delayed was the little party by this fierce interruption, that the
sun had climbed high above the eastern horizon, on the last day of the
thirty allotted to Coacoochee, ere the last of his followers, travel
worn, staggering from wounds and weariness, but filled with pride at
the feat they had just accomplished, and fully conscious of their own
importance, filed slowly into Fort Brooke.
For days their coming had been eagerly awaited. For hours they had been
watched for with feverish anxiety. Now the tale of sticks in General
Worth's possession was complete, for Nita had insisted upon the living
warriors bringing in him who was dead, that he might be counted with
them.
The soldiers of the garrison uttered cheer upon cheer at sight of these
last comers. The friends who had preceded them thronged about them with
eager questions and congratulations; and the news that Coacoochee was
saved, repeated from lip to lip, spread like wildfire throughout the
post.
Ralph and Anstice Boyd, seated at a late breakfast, heard the glad
shouting, and ran to the porch of their cottage to discover its cause.
They were just in time to greet Nita as she rode up, and to catch her
as she slipped wearily from her saddle.
Her clothing was torn and stained, and her unbound hair streamed wildly
about her head. Her eyes were bright and shining, but her cheeks were
hollow, and glowed with spots of dull red. Coacoochee's silken kerchief
that had confined her hair, was now bound tightly about her arm, and
its whiteness was changed to the crimson of blood.
"He still lives? I am in time?" she whispered huskily as Anstice met
her with a mingled cry of joy and terror.
"Yes, you dear, splendid, brave girl. He still lives, and you are in
plenty of time. But, oh Nita! if you have killed yourself, what will it
all amount to? Ralph, you must carry her in. She isn't able to walk."
Very tenderly they bore her into the house, and laid her on the tiny
bed in her own room. Then Boyd hastened to find the surgeon, while
Anstice bathed the girl's face with cool water, and talked lovingly to
her. Ere an hour was past, the deadly fever of the swamps, that she had
defied so long and so bravely, held her in its fierce clutches, and the
girl, who by her own exertions had brought the war to a close, lay with
staring eyes, but unconscious of her surroundings.
To Irwin Douglass was assigned the congenial task of notifying
Coacoochee that he was free, and bringing him ashore. He hastened
to execute it, and, on reaching the ship, at once ordered the hated
irons to be struck from the limbs of the captive leader. As they fell
clanging to the deck, the whole appearance of the young chief changed.
He again lifted his head proudly, his form expanded, and he paced the
deck with the stride of a free man.
His first query was for Nita, and when told of her triumphant return,
leading the last remnant of his band, he smiled proudly, and said
that she was indeed fitted to be the wife of a warrior. At that time
Douglass did not know of the girl's wound, nor of the illness that was
even then developing its true character. Consequently, Coacoochee was
allowed to go ashore filled with happy anticipations of meeting her
whom he loved and to whom he owed so much.
He arrayed himself in a striking costume for the occasion, and one
that well became his rank. From his turban drooped three black ostrich
plumes. His frock was of scarlet and yellow, exquisitely made. Across
his breast glittered many medals. In his silken sash was thrust the
silver-hilted hunting-knife, by aid of which he had escaped from the
fortress prison of St. Augustine. His leggings were of scarlet cloth,
elaborately fringed, and on his feet he wore beaded moccasins.
A great throng of people, including every Indian at the post, was
assembled to greet him; and as the boat neared land, these raised
a mighty shout of welcome. As he leaped ashore and trod again his
native sands, the throng drew back. Then with outstretched arms, and
his form extended to its fullest height, Coacoochee gave utterance to
the ringing war-cry that had so often carried dismay to his foes, and
thrilled his warriors to desperate deeds.
"Yo-ho-ee yo-ho-ee-chee yo-ho-ee!"
It was answered by a sound of hearty cheers from the assembled troops.
Then the throng parted to make way for him, and up the living lane the
young war-chief walked proudly to headquarters, where he exchanged
greetings with General Worth as one with whom he was in every respect
an equal. This formality concluded, he turned to the crowd of Indians
who had followed him, and addressed them briefly, but in ringing tones:
"Warriors: Coacoochee stands before you a free man. He sent for you,
and you have come. By that coming you have saved his life, and for it,
he thanks you. The Great Spirit has spoken in our councils, and said:
'Let there be no more war between my children.' The hatchet is buried
so that there may be friendship between the Iste-chatte and his white
brother. I have given my word for you that you will not try to escape.
For that I am free. See to it that the word of Coacoochee is kept
strong and true. I have spoken. By our council fire I will say more.
Now, away to your camp."
As the throng melted away in obedience to this command, Coacoochee
turned to Lieutenant Douglass, and asked to be taken to Nita.
At the cottage in which she lay, he was met by the Boyds, from whom he
learned what she had undergone on his behalf; of her wound incurred in
fighting his battle, and of her present dangerous illness. He insisted
on seeing her; and, on being led to where she lay tossing and moaning
in the delirium of fever, the proud warrior knelt by her side, and,
hiding his face, wept like a little child.