The Battle at Horseshoe Bend

by Michael Aye

  Once the Indians were out of sight, Henry seemed to exhale. “Choctaws,” he said, “hunting party.”

  “Aren’t they friendly?” Lieupo asked.

  “Back at the fort,” Henry replied. “Out here, who knows? But friendly or not, if they didn’t see us they can’t tell anyone we’re here.”

  Seeing the logic in the old scout’s words, Jonah said, “That’s true.”

  The men made camp that night and Henry pulled out his pipe. “Last chance to enjoy a bowl. We’ll be getting close tomorrow and can’t risk the smell being detected.”

  The next morning, Henry broke a limb off a small pine tree and rubbed himself down well. Seeing the question on Lieupo’s face, Moses said, “It helps with the scent. Jonah and I do it all the time when we go hunting.” Nodding his understanding, Lieupo broke a small limb and followed suit.

  -

  By noon that day Henry called a halt. “Let’s let the horses drink,” he said, pointing to a small stream. “Then let’s take them off the trail and tie them up. They should be safe, and we’ll go a ways on foot.”

  “That close, are we?” Jonah asked.

  “Close enough I can smell ’em,” Henry replied. Jonah doubted this but didn’t argue the point.

  It was dusk when the group closed with the village. Menawa was quickly spotted; it seemed a council was taking place. The atmosphere was gloomy and uneasy. The scouts had arrived at the end of the meeting. The warriors suddenly stood and drifted off, some alone and others in small groups. One group sat at a campfire close to where the scouts were hiding.

  “That man is named Durant and next to him is Peter McQueen,” Henry whispered. “They’re cussing General White and General Cook. If he’d followed Andy’s orders and left Hillabee Town alone, Menawa would not have taken up the red club of war. But because the generals disobeyed orders and then wiped out a whole town of friendlies, Menawa, who is the Creek Emperor, had to declare war. They don’t have the confidence in him as they do Lumhe-Chati.” Realizing Jonah didn’t know who he meant, Henry added, “Lumhe-Chati is Creek for Red Eagle. Weatherford, Red Eagle, and Lumhe-Chati, they’re all the same person.”

  Jonah listened quietly to the braves, who continued their grumbling. He only understood a few words here and there, but Henry was taking the conversation all in. Finally McQueen rose. He was obviously disgusted when he spoke, “Come Durant,” he said. “Let’s go get drunk.”

  As the two warriors ambled off, Henry made a motion to the men for them to back out. They quickly made their way back to the horses without speaking. Once back at the horses, the men looked about to make sure the horses hadn’t been discovered and an ambush lay in wait. When all was decided to be safe, Henry paused to catch his breath, “Did you understand what McQueen and Durant were so riled up about?”

  “I only picked up a few words,” Jonah admitted, “but it seems they’re not happy with Menawa’s leadership and would rather have Weatherford leading them.”

  “That’s part of it,” Henry said, “but what has got their blood up is Menawa has decided to fort up at Cholocco-Litabixee. That’s the Creek word for Horseshoe Bend. Some Redcoat has said they can build a barricade across the front to keep that crazy old Jackson away. They will have the river at the back which will prevent Jackson from attacking from the rear.”

  “Why does that rile them?” Lieupo asked.

  Moses, who’d kept his silence, finally spoke, “Because Weatherford says it’s a foolish idea, a deathtrap worse than at the Holy ground. He says the prophets and British are foolish. The barricade will not protect the Red Sticks, it will be their ruin. He says they’ve lost too many braves to place all that remain behind some wall…trapped. We lost too many warriors at the Holy ground to make the same mistake again, he argued. He said between the Holy ground, Talladega, and Tallaschatchee, they have lost half their warriors. Why would they risk the rest in a death trap?”

  “Will his influence change things?” Lieupo asked.

  “I doubt it,” Henry said. “Now let’s get out of here and report back to old Andy.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The horses picked their way across the small creek, taking a moment to take a quick gulp of the cool water. Moses was suddenly uneasy. He brought his horse up alongside Jonah, and without speaking, nudged him with the barrel of his long rifle. Jonah didn’t speak or turn. The nudge was enough. A whoosh was heard, followed by a cry of pain. An arrow protruded from Lieupo’s hip. Another struck his horse in the hind quarters. It had missed Lieupo, as he’d had the sense to lean forward over the horse’s neck, making himself a smaller target. He and Henry had been in the lead. Henry jumped off his horse looking for a target.

  “There,” Jonah shouted, “six or eight of them.”

  One was aiming his bow, the arrow pulled back till the feather touched his cheek. Jonah shot him just as he let go of the arrow. Two more shots crashed out. Moses and Henry had obviously found targets. One of the warriors shrilled out the death cry of the Red Sticks while the remaining warriors crashed into the creek. The charging horses sent up a shower of water. One of the warriors, his tomahawk waving in the air, was almost on Lieupo. Jonah rammed his ball home and was removing the rod from the barrel when a shot fired. Lieupo had managed to pull out one of his pistols and shoot the charging Indian square in the chest. The impact of the ball knocked the brave backward, his legs rising in the air as he toppled off the rear of the horse and splashed limp into the cold creek water.

  Another Indian was almost on top of Henry when Jonah took quick aim and fired. Moses fired at another warrior, striking him as he leapt from his horse. His rifle, now useless, fell from Jonah’s hands into the creek as he grabbed his tomahawk. Another brave was trying to line up his arrow on Jonah. Jonah quickly ducked beneath his horse and grasping the Indian’s leg, jerked him from his horse. The Indian dropped his bow and grabbed at his horse’s mane to no avail. Catching his balance, he kicked out at Jonah, who dodged and struck with his tomahawk, the steel blade burying itself in the Indian’s brow and face. Jonah felt a sudden sharp, burning pain in his left upper arm. Pain like he’d been stuck by a hot poker. He’d been shot but had never heard the report. He whipped out his long knife with his right hand but it was over. The remaining two Indians had no more fight in them and bolted away.

  Moses helped Jonah find his long rifle at the bottom of the shallow creek. The once clear water was now a mixture of blood and mud. Handing Jonah his rifle, Moses yanked the tomahawk from the dead Indian and rinsed it off in the creek. He wiped the blade on his buckskin pants and then handed it to Jonah. “Let’s get on the bank so we can look at your arm and check on Steve.” Grimacing in pain, Jonah nodded and started walking.

  Henry was beside Lieupo, who was still leaning over the neck of his horse. “You alright, Steve?”

  “Well, I ain’t about to go dancing, but I don’t ’spect I’m about to die. I do have a terrible pain that runs from my hip to my arse though.”

  Moving into a small clearing in a thicket about a hundred yards from the creek, Moses tied Jonah’s arm up after a quick look. “Ball cut a notch or a furrow in your arm. We get back to the fort, the surgeon can put some salve on it, but that ought to stop the bleeding.”

  Moses then moved over to where Henry was tending to Lieupo, who still sat astride his horse. Henry asked, “Jonah alright?”

  “He’ll mend,” Moses replied.

  Henry and Moses helped Lieupo down while Jonah held the horse steady. The arrow was buried deep, right in Lieupo’s hip. “Feels like it’s grinding bone when I move my leg,” Lieupo gasped.

  “Got to try to take it out,” Moses said, “ain’t no way around it. It’s going to hurt to high heaven. Still, it has to be done.” Washing his hands with water from a canteen, Moses took out his knife. “Steve,” he spoke to his friend, who seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness due to the pain. “I saw the surgeon take an arrow out of a man’s back when we were at the Thames River. He stu
ck the knife in so the arrow’s head wouldn’t get hung up coming out.” Lieupo managed a nod. His face was pale and clammy with sweat dripping from his skin.

  “Shouldn’t we run the blade through a fire first?” Jonah asked.

  “I’d be feared to take the chance of building a fire,” Henry said.

  “Just get her done,” Lieupo grimaced.

  “Here is a biting stick,” Henry said putting a trimmed twig in the wounded man’s mouth.

  Splitting Lieupo’s pants and finding where the arrow went in, Moses made a quick probe with his finger. He then quickly and deftly pushed the knife blade in along the arrow shaft. This caused Lieupo to cry out and then he mercifully passed out.

  “Quick, while he’s out,” Jonah advised.

  Moses held the blade in place while Henry grabbed the arrow shaft with both hands and yanked…nothing. “It must be stuck in the bone,” Henry said.

  “Give it another try,” Moses said.

  Grabbing the arrow again, Henry yanked with all his strength. He yanked so hard he pulled Lieupo off the ground causing the man to scream out.

  “One more time,” Moses said. “I think I felt it give.” Henry gave a doubtful look.

  “Wait a minute,” Jonah said. He lay across Lieupo and nodded he was ready. Henry yanked again and this time the arrow came free, causing Henry to lose his balance and bust his butt on the ground. Looking at the arrow in his hand, Henry cursed, “Damn, the points broke off.”

  Inspecting the arrowhead in the dim light that remained, Moses said, “Couldn’t be much. Still most of its out so we can travel now.”

  “What about the bleeding? I always heard cobwebs were good for it. With all the granddaddy long legs we’ve come across, it shouldn’t be hard to find a web here about.”

  Henry set out looking and was back in fifteen minutes or so. He had a thick wad of webs wrapped around the end of a stick. Seeing Henry’s look, Jonah asked, “What’s the matter?”

  “I found Lemuel,” Henry said sadly.

  “That’s bad,” Moses said.

  Henry nodded, “The butchering savages. They tortured him good. They cut out several ribs and tied wet leather around him. He was scalped and they cut off his privates. He was stretched between two trees. Varmints have been at his feet. He didn’t die quickly. You wait, there’s gonna be some payback for this.”

  Jonah knew no amount of words would comfort his friend. Then he thought of Crockett’s words, ‘It ain’t all one-sided.’ Well, it wasn’t, but it sure as hell seemed one-sided. They seemed to take morbid pleasure in torturing and mutilating. Could this be excused by saying if the whites hadn’t tried to move in on their lands it wouldn’t have happened? Did the president fear Jackson’s retaliation would be worse? It would be hard to control a man who has seen his soldiers so mistreated. Too many questions, Jonah decided.

  Now the only important question was: could they get Steve Lieupo back to Fort Strother safely? Would the broken tip of the arrow cause infection? All questions only time could answer.

  “Let’s get going,” Jonah said. “I’ve had enough of this place.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It took three days of careful travel to reach Fort Strother. The men gave a collective sigh of relief when the fort’s palisade came into view. Jonah’s arm was red and swollen. It was also very tender and warm to the touch. Jonah had mostly ignored his arm out of concern for Stephen Lieupo. As bad as Jonah’s arm looked, Lieupo’s hip looked worse. Jonah’s arm wept some, but a bloody pus-mixed drainage had started flowing from Lieupo’s hip the previous day and had not stopped. Lieupo was feverish and at times his pain was so great he passed out. The group waved at the sentry at the gate and nodded when they passed Jackson talking to an army officer outside the general’s quarters. Jackson paused his conversation and watched as the scouts stopped at the fort’s hospital.

  The surgeon must have seen them coming, as he rushed out to help in lifting Lieupo off his horse. The surgeon was a young, tall, clean-cut man who carried an air of authority. Jonah liked the professional manner in which the surgeon carried himself but couldn’t help but wonder if he wasn’t a mite young to be a surgeon.

  “I’m Doctor Bridges,” the surgeon said, introducing himself. He’s from the south, probably from Georgia, Jonah thought, recognizing the accent.

  While the attendants were cutting away Lieupo’s pants and removing his boots, the surgeon called to Jonah. He had seen the bloody bandage. Slitting the shirt sleeve and cutting away the bandage to examine the wound, the surgeon clucked to himself. Jonah couldn’t help but wince at the man’s ministrations. Jonah’s bandage had stuck to the wound and hurt like everything when it was pulled loose.

  “Damn,” Jonah muttered.

  “It will feel better when it quits hurting,” the surgeon said with a chuckle. He then surprised Jonah by leaning forward and sniffing the wound. Satisfied, he had the attendant clean up the wound.

  The attendant did this by washing the wound with warm water. He then poured whiskey over the wound, causing Jonah to wince and curse under his breath. After the whiskey, he applied a salve and a clean dressing.

  Seeing Jonah’s questioning look, the surgeon said, “That’s an old Cherokee remedy I learned about. It seems to work better than anything I have, even if it smells awful.” Smiling, Bridges said, “Probably scares off the ill humor and stings a bit too, after a while.”

  This caused Moses to smile, “Not for a tough man like Jonah.”

  “Damn you,” Jonah snorted, starting to feel the sting.

  “Let me see you again tomorrow,” the surgeon said as he made his way to where Lieupo lay.

  “His name is Lieupo,” Jonah said, speaking to the surgeon. “Captain Stephen Lieupo.”

  “Well, be off with you,” Bridges threw over his shoulder, “while I see if we can help Captain Stephen Lieupo.”

  -

  Glancing over the parade ground, Jonah and Moses took in all the unusual activity. There was a lot more men walking about. More tents had been pitched and the stables were full to almost overflowing.

  “Best Moses and me take care of these horses while you go report to Andy,” Henry recommended. “He saw us ride in, and he’s bound to be curious.”

  Jonah nodded and handed his reins to Moses and made for the general’s command post. He was intercepted by Sam Houston just before he got there.

  “Trouble?” Houston questioned.

  “Some. Captain Lieupo is in a bad way. Arrow in his hip, never thought we’d get it out,” Jonah replied.

  “Damn,” Houston swore. “I like Steve. Hope he doesn’t lose his leg…or worse.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” Jonah responded. By that time, they had reached the stoop outside the general’s office. Grabbing a pole and pulling himself onto the plank porch, Jonah paused and said, “The Red Sticks are forting up for a battle at Horseshoe Bend. They had a big council over the choice. Weatherford thinks it’s a fool notion, but Menawa and his prophets are preaching big medicine and feel they can defeat us there.”

  Shaking his head no, Houston said, “Not anymore. The thirty-ninth rode in yesterday. Jackson now has close to five thousand men under his command. I’m sure you saw all those soldiers in uniform.”

  “I did,” Jonah admitted.

  “Well, if Menawa holds with his plans, Weatherford was right. It will be their death trap. This war will be over soon. I already heard Major Montgomery say the thirty-ninth swung by here to help out before going on down to New Orleans to fight the British.”

  This caused Jonah to pause and think. The door to the general’s quarters squeaked open. Houston quickly said, “I’ll see you tonight,” and then hurried off.

  -

  Cholocco-Litabixee,” Jackson snarled.

  “Means Horseshoe Bend,” Major Russell said. “It’s a place where the Tallapoosa River loops out and then swings back again. It forms a peninsula of sorts. The widest part is about one thousand feet wide. There are
several high points that rise up about seventy-five feet; makes good lookout points,” Russell added.

  “Is it thick woods or has it been cleared?” Jackson asked.

  “I’m not sure, sir, maybe Henry will know.”

  “Well, Parrish?” Jackson asked.

  “A good deal had been cleared the last time I was over that way. But there’s a high ridge that still had a good stand of pines and hardwoods. However, there are thick woods all about on both sides of the river. There’s a small village close by that was used by hunting parties. Stayed there once,” Henry added, “before the hostilities.”

  Jonah had made his initial report to Jackson earlier that day. Jackson had then called in his officers, including a couple of officers from the newly arrived thirty-ninth. Major Montgomery was at the meeting but the colonel commanding the regiment was conspicuous in his absence. Did a colonel in the regular army dislike being under the command of a militia officer, even when he was a major general? He’d better get used to it, Jonah thought, or Jackson will send him packing like he did those other two colonels.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Moses sat on a barrel enjoying the warming rays of the sun. He whittled at a stick while waiting on Jonah to have his arm looked at. Henry sat on a crate next to Moses, puffing away at his pipe. A little cloud of sweet smelling smoke hung in the air, causing men to sniff as they walked past. It was getting on toward the noon meal and, unlike when they had first arrived, Jackson’s army now had plenty to eat. Fully supplied and men all raring to get this war over with. Moses was sure they’d be marching soon…but not too soon.