In the Wilds of Florida: A Tale of Warfare and Hunting
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flight of arrows whistling after us.
"Sure, as I'm a living man, it's that villain Black Hawk did the deed!"exclaimed Tim. "I saw the look he gave when he heard that Mr. Carloshad killed Spotted Wolf. He had planned the black deed for many a day."
Lejoillie and I agreed with Tim, though how Carlos came to have been ledso far away it was at first difficult to say. Perhaps Black Hawk hadinduced him to dismount, and then, taking his gun, had galloped off withhis horse. Carlos, not being able to find his way back to the camp, hadprobably lighted a fire to keep off the wolves; and while seated beforeit, either Black Hawk or some other Indian had shot him. Such was theonly way we could account for the position in which we had found him.
Captain Norton was much grieved, and blamed himself greatly for havingallowed Black Hawk to accompany Carlos. We dug his grave close to ourcamp, and spent a portion of the night in piling up logs over it to markthe spot. Though I had before been looking forward to the satisfactionof falling in with my uncle, I now dreaded the meeting and the task Ishould have to perform of telling him of the death of my cousin. As nomore was seen of Black Hawk, we had no doubt that he had committed thedeed.
We had now reached as far north as there would be any use in going, asmy uncle and his party must have come by this time fully as far south aswe then were if they had not already passed us. Though the country wasalmost in as wild a state as in the southern parts, there were a fewlog-huts and other primitive buildings scattered about; but theinhabitants had fled for fear of the Indians. Both we and our horsesbeing pretty well tired by a long day's journey, we took up our quartersin one of these huts. The men were encamped outside, with the usualsentries placed at equal distances; and we had thrown ourselves on therough tables and benches, the only remaining furniture, when the soundof distant firing reached our ears.
"Sure there's fightin' goin' on!" cried Tim.
We started to our feet. The horses were saddled, the men fell in, andwe hastened on, hoping to arrive in time to assist any whites who mightbe engaged, whether my uncle's party or others. We had still lightenough to see our way, though the sun was near setting. At last we camewithin sight of another hut of some size, near which the fighting hadbeen taking place, of which we had sad proof by seeing the bodies ofthree white men stretched on the ground. But their comrades wereadvancing, driving the enemy before them.
"They will be led into an ambush!" cried Captain Norton; and orderingTim to halt the men a little in advance of where they then were, hedashed forward to prevent the catastrophe he feared, I was about tofollow, when a black, whom I recognised as one of my uncle's servants,rushed out of the hut.
"Is dat you, Massa Maurice?" he exclaimed. "Whar Massa Carlos? we'fraid dat his fader die an' he want bery much to see him. Come in; hein here; come in!"
Giving the reins of my horse to one of the men, I threw myself from thesaddle, and hurried into the hut. My uncle lay on a low bedsteadcovered with straw, while one of his followers stood near him with hisrifle in his hand. The black, taking a lamp, led the way to the bed.As the light fell on my uncle's countenance, I saw that his featureswere set, and his eyes had lost their expression. I knelt by his sideand took his hand: though warm, it failed to return my pressure.
"Speak to me--speak to me, uncle!" I exclaimed, but no reply came.
The black shook his head. "Him gone, massa," he said; "no 'gain speak."
I turned to the other man for an explanation.
"He was shot, sir, leading us on against the Redskins. We brought himin here at once to look to his hurt, and when we saw you coming we hopedthat you might have a doctor with you; but the bullet had done its work,and he was dead before you entered the hut."
I was deeply grieved, for I knew how my father would feel the loss of myuncle, who was, however, thus saved the pain of hearing of his son'sdeath.
I had no time to give way to sorrow, for the rattle of musketry showedme that the fight was still continuing; the shouts and shrieks of theIndians, which came from no greater distance than before, proving thatthey held their ground. It was not a time for any one with a rifle inhis hand to be idle; and bidding the black remain by his master's body,I called to the other men to accompany me, and hurried out to join mycompanions. There was barely sufficient light to enable me todistinguish them, but the cracks from their rifles showed where theywere posted. Just as I joined them, Captain Norton appeared, andordered us to charge the enemy, who, as we advanced, broke and, fled.We fired, pouring in a couple of volleys, which brought down several ofthe Indians, and hastened the flight of the rest. The captain thenordered us to retire to the neighbourhood of the hut, where we could thebetter defend ourselves should the enemy rally. Had we not arrived, thewhole of my uncle's party would probably have been destroyed; as it was,several had fallen, and we lost two, besides three wounded. We couldnot ascertain how many of the Indians had been killed, as their friendshad carried off most of them. Two or three bodies, however, were stillin the open, but at such a distance from our camp that it would havebeen dangerous to have approached them, for some of the Redskins mightbe lurking in the wood. As it was more than probable that we should beattacked during the night, one-half of our party remained under arms,while the rest slept with their rifles by their sides, ready for actionat a moment's notice.
I was patrolling with Tim, the moon, high above the trees, casting abright light over the ground where the fighting had taken place, whenTim exclaimed,--"Arrah! sure, thin, one o' them Redskins is moving." Ilooked in the direction he pointed to, and directly after saw one of theapparently dead Indians rise to his feet and make towards the wood. Atthe same instant Tim fired. The Indian dropped, and before I could stopmy companion he had rushed forward, supposing, I believed, that the manwas feigning to be shot, and might still make his escape. He quicklycame back, dragging the body after him.
"Sure he's dead enough now, anyhow; but I thought I'd bring him along toshow you who he is. See, it's Black Hawk, who killed Mr. Carlos; he'sgot what he deserves for his treacherous murder."
I at once recognised the features of Black Hawk. That he could not dous further harm was certain; and as no attempt had been made to rescuehim, we were satisfied that the enemy had retreated to a distance. Partof the night was spent in the melancholy duty of digging graves, andburying the bodies of my poor uncle and those who had fallen with him,as we could not take them with us, the wounded requiring all the men whocould be spared to carry them. The Indians, we hoped, finding us toostrong for them, had retreated.
The night passed quietly away, and at early dawn we commenced our marchback to Fort King.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
ARRIVAL AT FORT KING--WE RESOLVE TO RETURN TO CASTLE KEARNEY--ON THE WAYTO SILVER SPRING--ANXIETY OF JUANITA--A WELCOME SOUND--A MESSAGE FORROCHFORD--OUR VOYAGE DOWN STREAM--ARRIVAL HOME--GRIEF OF MY AUNT--IVISIT JUDGE SHURTLEFF--A PARTY OF BLACKS DISCOVERED--I JOIN THEROSEVILLE VOLUNTEERS--AN ENCOUNTER IN THE FOREST--THE MEETING WITHROCHFORD--A DISPUTE--THE PRISONER BEFORE THE JUDGE--AT THE CASTLEAGAIN--SAD NEWS--MY FATHER'S WORDS--THE ATTACK AND DEFENCE OF CASTLEKEARNEY--OUR RETREAT ON THE RIVER--TIMELY HELP--RECEPTION AT ROSEVILLE--RETURN TO IRELAND--HAPPINESS OF MY COUSINS--THE LAST OF THE SEMINOLES--CONCLUSION.
We had a weary march back to Fort King, not knowing at what moment wemight be attacked by our persevering foes, who were constantly hoveringin our rear; but from the admirable arrangements of the captain, and thevigilant watch kept at night, finding that they could not surprise us,they did not venture on an attack. No attempt during our absence hadbeen made on the fort, although the garrison had been kept constantly onthe alert. I need not describe the grief which the news of my uncle andcousin's death caused to my father and Juanita. They were, of course,now more anxious than ever to get back to Castle Kearney. As the menwho had followed my uncle would form a sufficient escort, it wasresolved that we should set out for the Ocklawaha River, where we hopedto find boats in which we could descend to the Saint John, and fromthence to co
ntinue on to Castle Kearney. The point we aimed at wasknown as the "Silver Spring," a stream celebrated for the extraordinarytransparency of its water, and much venerated in consequence by theIndians. It was supposed, indeed, to be the fountain of youth, of whichthey spoke to the Spaniards who first visited this country, and inducedthem to believe that its waters had the power of renovating the mostaged, and restoring strength and beauty to the wrinkled and decrepit.
A landing-place, with two or more planked houses, stood on the bank ofthe stream, which would afford accommodation should they not have beendestroyed by the Indians, though the inhabitants had long before madetheir escape to a less dangerous part of the country. As the wholedistance could be performed in little more than a day, it was consideredadvisable to send forward two scouts, who would