Boy Chums in the Forest; Or, Hunting for Plume Birds in the Florida Everglades

by John Henry Goldfrap

  CHAPTER XXXIII.

  THE SEMINOLES.

  The conversation on the part of the hunters had so far been conductedby Charley. Walter had remained silent, busily thinking over thewrongs that had been done them by the convicts. He could not forgetthe still, cold form in the hut that had been robbed of life by themurderers' bullets. He was not usually a vindictive boy, but, as hethought of Ritter's noble act and sudden death, his passion steadilygrew and at last he turned scornfully to the young chief.

  "Little Tiger speaks with the tongue of a man, but his deeds are thoseof a squaw," he declared, bitterly. "Are he and his braves afraid ofthe murderers of his people and the slayers of his father that theyleave them to escape in peace and safety?"

  "They will not escape," said the young Indian, his face darkening withanger at the savage taunt. "A man's death for a man, but jackals shalldie like jackals. With hearts of terror and blood turned to water intheir fear, they shall die a death more horrible than the palefaces cangive them."

  "You have offended him, Walter," said Charley, as the young savagewalked proudly away. "Why couldn't you be more patient? I have feltall along that he had some plan for dealing with the convicts."

  "I suppose I have put my foot in it," said Walter regretfully, "butit's no use crying about it now."

  The Indians were already lighting fires and preparing breakfast, butthe hunters had a task before them which they felt they must performbefore they could touch food, and they immediately set about it.

  In the shade of a majestic live oak, they dug a deep grave and in itlaid to rest the body of the unfortunate Ritter. Their eyes were moistas the earth covered the remains of the young hero.

  Little Tiger rose to meet them as they approached the group of Indians.

  Walter walked up to him with outstretched hand. "I am sorry for myangry, foolish words," he said. "When sorrow bears heavy on the heart,the tongue grows bitter."

  The young Seminole grasped the offered hand with evident pleasure."Even squaws forgive and forget, and a warrior should be nobler than asquaw," he said, sagely. "The palefaces shall be seated and share thefood of their red brothers."

  The hunters would gladly have declined, but could not well do sowithout giving offense, so they seated themselves in the circlesurrounding the steaming kettle containing the food and with inwardqualms partook lightly of the stew.

  There was a kettle to every fifteen Indians, and their manner of eatingleft much to be desired. Spoons and forks they had none, but theysolved the problem by dipping their hands into the pot and fishing outthe portions desired. With true courtesy, the guests were given thefirst dip into the pot.

  As they ate, the hunters had an opportunity to study their hosts morecarefully than they had yet done.

  They were all splendid specimens of savage manhood. Not one was lessthan six feet tall, and each was shaped and muscled like an athlete.All wore the usual Seminole dress, a long shirt belted in at the waist,moccasins, and turbans of tightly wound red handkerchiefs. They wereextremely neat and cleanly in appearance, a virtue not common withIndian tribes.

  There were a few squaws among the company, but they did not tempt asecond glance. They were wooden-faced, slovenly-looking creaturesalmost disgusting in appearance. They were loaded with string uponstring of colored beads forming a solid mass, like a huge collar, fromthe point of their chins down to their chests.

  "Which one have you picked out for your own, Captain?" whisperedCharley. "That big one over there seems to have her eye upon you."

  The old sailor flushed with embarrassment. "Look out or they'll haveyou," he cautioned fearfully, "I kinder feel that big one has singledme out, an' I don't want to encourage her none."

  The Indians seemed to regard the day as a holiday to celebrate thelaying out of the spirits and the adding of a large fertile island totheir domain.

  The morning was given over to feasting and to running, jumping andwrestling matches. Only the young Indians indulged in these contests,the warriors sitting gravely looking on.

  Our young hunters tried their strength and skill with the Indian lads,but, although they were stronger and more nimble than most boys oftheir age, they found that they were no match for the young Seminoles.

  While the boys were enjoying the contests, the captain sat moodilyapart, keeping a worried eye upon the squaws.

  With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Charley drew aside one of theSeminole lads, whom he had found could speak English, and whisperedeagerly to him.

  The Indian lad's bright, beady eyes twinkled as he listened, and, whenCharley concluded, he nodded his head and slipped away into the grouparound the fire.

  "Look, Walt, oh, look," shouted Charley a moment later, "look at thecaptain, oh my, oh my," and Charley rolled on the grass in wicked glee.

  The young Indian had done his work well. A dozen of the squaws hadformed a ring around the old sailor and were slowly closing in. Thecaptain had struggled to his feet and with red face and horrified eyeswas waving his arms frantically, shouting, "Go away, go away," much asone would shoo a flock of chickens.

  "Don't be afraid, captain," called Charley, "they only want to embraceyou."

  "I won't be embraced, I won't, I won't," cried the old sailor,frantically.

  "Come, Captain, do the Hobson act," said Walter, "the ladies expect it."

  "Help, help," shouted the captain appealingly, as the circle ofgrave-faced squaws steadily advanced, "I won't be embraced, I won't."

  With a sudden howl of terror the squaws turned and fled.

  In his fear, the captain had opened his mouth a little too far and hisfalse teeth had tumbled out. The old sailor caught them in his handand continued to wave his arms. "I won't be embraced," he shouted.

  But there was no need of the defiance; the squaws would not, for untoldbeads, have come near the strange being with the movable teeth.

  "Shame, Captain," said Charley severely, as the two boys approached theold sailor. "You must have been flirting with those ladies to makethem act like that."

  "I guess they was just attracted by my appearance," said the captainmodestly, "I always was a favorite with the ladies."

  "Looks as if they were headed this way again," said Walter.

  With a cry of fright the old sailor turned and dashed away for theshelter of the hut as fast as he could run.

  The boys shouted with laughter, and even the grave warriors smiled atthe scene.

  After dinner the celebration was renewed, but this time the youthsformed the audience while their elders held shooting matches and moresober contests of skill and strength.

  The captain did not emerge from the hut until nearly sundown, and whenhe did appear he carried both upper and lower teeth in his hand.Whenever a squaw approached anywhere near him he would open his mouthto its fullest extent and wave the teeth in the air.

  "They will get used to seeing you without them and soon think you asbeautiful as ever," Charley said to him, gravely.

  "Charley," said the old sailor, solemnly, "for good or ill, we leavethis island to-morrow. It ain't often them Injin women meets with aman of my looks, an' it has drove 'em plum crazy. It ain't safe for meto stay longer."

  "I'm wondering what that widow lady in Shelbourne will say when shehears of this," said Walter musingly. "She will naturally think thatyou must have given them great encouragement."

  "If either of you lads breathe a word of this in town, I'll throttleyou," declared the apprehensive old sailor.

  "We won't say a word," said Charley, severely, "but I must say you havebeen setting Walter and I a terrible example, captain."

  After this parting shot, the two tormentors retired quickly, for theold sailor was almost at the exploding point with indignation.

  The captain was not the only one to whom the afternoon had broughttrials. Chris had not been without his share of troubles. TheSeminoles treated him with marked disdain and would not even permit himto eat with the others.

  "The In
dians consider the darky as an inferior being," Charley hadconfided to Walter in a whisper. "There are rumors that there is morethan one negro slave in the heart of the Everglades. The Seminoleshave a proverb, 'White man, Indian, dog, nigger,' which expresses theiropinion of the colored race."

  Chris' troubles reached their climax when the little party was seatedaround the fire with the Indians in the evening.

  The chief, who had been watching the little darky closely all day,turned to Charley: "Me buy 'em," he said, indicating Chris with a waveof his hand. "Me buy nigger."

  "I ain't no nigger," shouted Chris in a rage, "I'se a free-born blackEnglishman, dat's what I is."

  Charley silenced the indignant little darky with a wave of his hand.

  "He already has a master and is therefore not ours to sell," he said,while Chris bristled with indignation.

  "Who master?" inquired the Seminole with an appraising glance at thesturdy little darky.

  "A man called King Edward," said Charley gravely, and Chris'indignation subsided.

  "Too bad," grunted the chief, and dropped the subject.

  "What's that?" exclaimed Walter suddenly, as distant rifle shots echoedin the air, were repeated irregularly and finally ceased.

  "The convicts, I guess," whispered Charley, "I don't understand whythey are firing, though. All the Indians are here."

  Significant glances passed between the Indians.

  "Jackals are dead," said the chief, a fierce exultation in his face.

  "Who killed them?" cried Charley.

  "Crocodiles," said the Seminole, briefly.

  The little party stared at each other in horror. They understood nowwhy the Seminoles had not made an attack, and had showed so muchconfidence in the convicts not being able to escape.

  Much as the hunters hated the men who had persecuted them, they feltshocked and horror-stricken at the horrible fate that had overtakenthem.