CHAPTER XXXII.
HELP.
"Say what you want and be quick about it," said Charley sharply, as theconvict halted close to the hut.
"Me and my mates want to know if you are ready to call this thingquits," the man growled. "We agree to leave you the island all toyourselves right off if you won't fire on us while we are leaving."
Charley turned to the others for counsel.
"There's something in the wind," he declared in a low tone. "Thisproposal coming so soon after that signal means something. Maybe theIndians are coming."
"We can't bank on that, it's hardly time for them yet," observed thecaptain. "Better agree to their offer, lads. I guess they are justtired of the game."
"We can't well stop them if they have taken a notion to leave," saidWalter. "I agree with the captain. Let them go."
Charley turned to the man. "We agree, provided you leave at once," hesaid.
The convict, with a surly growl, turned and rapidly retraced his stepsto the fort.
The convicts were in evident haste to be gone, for their envoy hadhardly got inside before they began to file out, each bearing his gunand other belongings.
Within ten minutes from the envoy's visit the last of the outlaws hadscaled the walls and was lost to sight.
The hunters waited for half an hour before they removed the barricadefrom the door and let the fresh cool morning breeze into their stuffyprison. Even then they did not venture outside, for they still fearedsome trick on the part of the convicts. As the moments, passed quietlyby, however, without any sign of their foes, their fears began todecrease.
"I am going to find out what has become of them," Walter at lastdeclared. "Unless we make certain now of what they are up to, we willbe afraid to venture outside for a week to come."
His companions in vain tried to dissuade him from his rash project, hismind was made up and he turned a deaf ear to their words.
Shouldering one of the rifles, he made his way to the wall, clamberedover it nimbly and disappeared on the other side.
It was over half an hour before Walter returned. His companions hadbegun to feel uneasy about him when he appeared on the top of the walland dropped down inside with a hearty cheer.
"Come out, all of you," he shouted, "there's nothing more to fear fromthe convicts."
The little party crowded around him with eager questions.
"I followed them down to the landing," he said. "They had just shovedoff in their dugout and were headed back for their old camp andpaddling away for dear life.
"I had not long to wait before I discovered the reason for their haste.Far up the stream was a big fleet of Indian dugouts coming down, theremust have been forty of them at least. Then all was as plain as print:the convicts were aiming to get back to their ponies and make theirescape on them. Likely they would have done so if Indian Charley hadonly warned them a little sooner, but they were too late."
"Go on," said Charley, eagerly, as Walter paused in his story.
"They had only got as far as that little island near this one, whenanother big fleet of canoes appeared just ahead of them. I guess theyrealized that they stood no show to make a successful fight for it,crowded up as they were in the dugout; anyway, they ran ashore on thatlittle island and threw up mounds of sand and are lying behind them."
"Have the Indians attacked them?" Charley demanded.
"Not a shot has been fired. The Indians have formed a circle aroundthe island with their canoes just out of good gunshot and seem to bewaiting."
"Let's all go down to the landing," proposed Charley, eagerly, asWalter concluded his account.
The others were as excited as Charley and readily agreed to theproposal.
They found the situation just as Walter had described, the littleisland with the band of convicts on it with the circle of canoes aroundit.
"They won't stand much show if the Indians attack them in earnest,"observed the captain, "there ain't a bit of shelter on that island andit ain't hardly a foot above water."
As the little party gazed eagerly upon the scene, the next act in thegrim tragedy occurred.
"Look," exclaimed Charley, "they didn't fasten their canoe and it isdrifting away. They are so busy watching the Indians that they haven'tnoticed it yet."
A yell of dismay from the convicts soon told that they had discoveredtheir loss. A few dashed down to the water as though they would plungein after the drifting craft, but they evidently lacked the courage toface the bullets that would surely greet them if they ventured the act,for they stopped at the water's edge and soon returned to thebreastworks of sand.
An Indian paddled out from the circle of canoes and securing thedrifting craft, towed it back to the others.
"Just look," exclaimed Walter, "I wonder what the Seminoles mean bythat move."
The others gazed eagerly with many exclamations of astonishment.
The circle of besieging canoes was breaking up, first one dropped outof the circle, then another, until the whole fleet had formed in onelong, unbroken line. Paddles flashed in the water and the long linecame sweeping gracefully on past the little island.
"You may hang me to the cross-trees, if they ain't agoin' to let themscoundrels go," cried the captain in disgust.
"It certainly looks like it," admitted Charley, sadly. "All they haveto do is to swim to shore and make their way out on foot."
The big fleet came sweeping steadily on, headed directly for thelanding where the little party stood.
An exultant yell burst from the convicts as they saw the dreaded attackso quickly abandoned.
A hundred yards from the landing, the fleet of canoes seemed to slackenspeed, many of the Indians stopped paddling, and the long line wasthrown into confusion.
An Indian in the leading canoe stood up and seemed to be haranguing theothers.
"That's Little Tiger," said Walter eagerly, as he recognized theorator. "He's making a speech."
The hunters could, of course, make nothing of the speaker's words, butthe tone of his voice told him that the young Indian was terribly inearnest. His clear, resonant voice seemed to now ring with despairingscorn, now sink to touching appeal.
"My, but he's a born orator!" exclaimed Charley in admiration. "Itsounds as though he was lashing them up to some desperate undertaking."
The Indian at last ceased speaking and resuming his paddle sent hiscraft forward, his companions following in his wake.
He grounded his rude canoe at the hunters' feet and sprang out with thelight, lithe leap of a panther.
"How," he said, gravely, extending his hand to each in turn.
The hunters shook the small, shapely hand with genuine pleasure. Theywere all struck by the change in the young Indian. In the short timesince they had seen him last he had changed from a care-free striplingto a thoughtful chief whose word was law with his people. His mannerhad become grave and reserved, and there was about him an air ofconscious power that well became his manly bearing.
He glanced from one to the other of the little party with keen eyes."It is well," he said, in his clear, musical voice. "All here, nonemissing, not even the little one with a face like night. The LittleTiger's heart was heavy with fear lest he should come too late. Butneither the jackal's tribe nor the spirits of the night have harmed hisfriends."
"Did not the young chief fear to land on the island of the spirits?"asked Charley with a smile.
The Indian drew himself up proudly. "Shall a Seminole fear to followwhere the paleface dares to tread?" he demanded.
"Even the palefaces were filled with fear," said Charley, quickly,regretting his attempt at pleasantry, "but they found that they hadbeen only children frightened at shadows. They have slain that whichmade the noises full of mystery."
"Does the young white chief speak with the tongue of truth?" asked theSeminole, eagerly.
"Even as he would be spoken to," answered Charley, gravely. "If theLittle Tiger will come with his paleface friends
, they will show himmany wonderful things."
For a moment the young Indian hesitated, the fears bred in him bytradition struggling with his curiosity, but curiosity conquered.Turning to his followers, who had all drawn in to the landing, he gavesome sharp commands in his own language. They stepped ashore withevident reluctance and there was considerable murmuring amongst them.The chief looked them over with a scornful eye.
"Some of my warriors are not men, but squaws in men's clothing," hesaid, bitterly. "Their blood is like water in their veins with fear."
The murmuring Seminoles grew silent under their chief's scornful gaze,and when he moved forward with his white friends they followed closelyin the rear.
On the way up to the wall, Charley explained to the young Indian aboutthe bell and its nightly ringer.
The chief listened with relief and satisfaction on his face and quicklycommunicated the news in his own tongue to his followers. Immobile aswere the Indians' faces, they could not conceal entirely their reliefand pleasure at the explanation of what had been to them a life-long,fearful mystery.
Little Tiger was astonished when he saw the ancient road through theforest, and, at the sight of walls and buildings of stone, he exhibiteda childish delight. "This is an island worthy of being the home of agreat chief," he declared. "In the big wigwam of stone (the fort) theLittle Tiger will rest in peace when not on the hunt, and the squawsshall make of this dirt of black, great fields of yams and waving corn.It is good, that which the palefaces have done; how can their redbrother reward them?"
"By lending them one of his warriors to guide them back to where theirponies and goods are waiting," answered Charley, promptly.
"It shall be done," said the chief, "though the hearts of their redbrothers will be heavy at parting. Their hearts were filled withgladness with the hope that the palefaces would bide with them and takeunto them squaws from among the Seminoles."
The captain was on the point of exploding with indignation at thethought of an Indian squaw, but Charley spoke up quickly.
"Little Tiger does his friends great honor, yet, though their heartsare heavy at the thought of parting, they must go." Charley glanced atthe captain and added mischievously, "He with the gray hair on face andhead has, without doubt, many squaws amongst his people whose heartsare longing for his return."
The old sailor glared at the speaker in speechless indignation.
"There cannot be too many hands to till the fields," observed thechief, gravely. "I will give him another squaw to take back with himto his wigwam."
Charley silenced the embarrassed captain with a shake of his head."The chief is kind," he said, "but squaws are not as men, there wouldbe great enmity and hair-pulling between the white squaws and the red,and when squaws quarrel the wigwam is sad for the warrior."
The chief nodded gravely. "The young white chief speaks truly," hesaid.
Boy Chums in the Forest; Or, Hunting for Plume Birds in the Florida Everglades Page 32