The Flamingo Feather by Kirk Munroe

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In destroying the great storehouse, with its winter's supply of
provisions of his tribe, his desire had not been so much to injure his
own people as the white men, whom he knew were also dependent upon it
for food, and of whom Has-se's friend was one who would thus suffer.
He had thought to escape detection after committing this wicked act,
and that the fire would be supposed to be the result of an accident.
This hope had been dashed by the unexpected appearance of Has-se, who
had overheard his muttered threats; and now he knew that he must be an
outlaw from his tribe forever, and that he would meet with a terrible
punishment if he ever fell into their hands.

Of all his bitter thoughts the one uppermost in his mind was the desire
for revenge upon the gentle but high-spirited Has-se, who had not only
won from him his coveted position, but against whom he had just struck
such a cruel and cowardly blow.

This is the way of the world, with white as well as with red men, and
with boys and girls as well as with grown people. The more we injure a
person, the more bitter do we feel against him; and the more we help
and do good to him, the more kindly do we feel towards him.

The deep scowl of hate had not left Chitta's face when he ran his canoe
ashore at the foot of the high bluff upon which Admiral Ribault had
erected the stone pillar engraved with the French coat of arms.
Securing his canoe, and carefully concealing it from those who might
pass on the river, Chitta made his way, by means of a narrow path
through the tangled underbrush, to the summit. From here, by daylight,
he would command a view of the river for miles in either direction, and
would be able to detect the approach of any who should come in search
of him while yet they were a long way off.

As it was still night, and nothing was now to be seen except what was
disclosed by the moon, the young Indian gathered together a small heap
of moss and leaves, and drawing his robe over his head, flung himself
down for a few hours' sleep.

Tired as he was, Chitta fell asleep almost instantly; but it was fully
an hour after he had done so that a tall Indian rose, without a sound,
from the clump of bushes, concealed by which he had all this time been
watching the motionless figure, and cautiously approached it. In his
hands the tall Indian held a slender cord of twisted deer-hide, in one
end of which was a noose.

Without a movement that could arouse the lightest sleeper, he knelt by
Chitta's side, and with great dexterity managed to pass the noose over
both his moccasined feet without disturbing his slumber. Drawing it as
tightly as he dared, the tall Indian made the other end fast to a
sapling, and sat down beside the sleeper to patiently await his
awakening.

At length, just as the sun was appearing in the far east, Chitta
stirred uneasily, yawned, threw the blanket off from his head, and sat
up. As his gaze fell upon the motionless figure beside him he uttered
a sort of a gasping cry and sprang to his feet. He had hardly gained
them before the noose did its work, and, tripped by it, he fell heavily
to the ground. The tall Indian had also sprung to his feet, and now
stood over the prostrate form of his victim, with a cruel smile
lighting his dark features.

Although wicked, Chitta was no coward, and finding himself thus trapped
by an unknown enemy, he coolly asked, as he lay there,

"Who art thou, and what have I done to thee that thou shouldst thus
snare me like Pet-che?" (the pigeon).

For answer the tall Indian said, "I will first tell thee who thou art.
Thy name is Chitta. Thou wast overthrown but yesterday at the Feast of
Ripe Corn by the lad who wears in his hair the To-fa chat-te" (red
feather). "Thou art he who set fire to the storehouse of corn. Above
all, thou art now, like myself, an outlaw forever from thy people; for
know that I am that Seminole called Cat-sha" (the tiger).

At this name Chitta gave a start of surprise, for though he had never
before seen this Indian, the name of Cat-sha had been familiar to him
from his childhood. It was one used by Indian mothers to frighten
their unruly children, and quiet them into obedience, for it belonged
to the crudest, boldest, and most dreaded of all the outlawed Seminoles.

When still a youth, Cat-sha had, in a fit of ungovernable anger, struck
one of his young companions a blow, from the effects of which he died.
For this he was driven from his tribe, and from that day he had been an
outcast, whose hand was raised against all men, and who had become
famed and dreaded for his deeds of savage cruelty. He had gathered
together and become chief of that band of Seminoles of whom Has-se had
told Rene, and under his leadership it was rapidly becoming a scourge
to all the more peaceful inhabitants of that country. Knowing all
this, it is no wonder that Chitta gave a start of surprise not unmixed
with alarm when he learned into whose hands he had fallen.

Evidently gratified at the impression the mere mention of his name
produced upon his prisoner, Cat-sha continued:

"For many days have I watched the place of the pale-faces from beyond
the great waters. I hate them, and would gladly drive them back into
the sea whence they came. It was to learn their strength and discover
in what manner they might be most successfully attacked that I came to
this place. Thy people, at their feasting and dancing, have I also
seen, and I had thought to do with my own hand the deed accomplished by
thee last night. Since thou hast relieved me of that labor, I am
inclined favorably towards thee, and will spare thy life upon condition
that thou renounce forever thy own people and become one of my band."

"Become a Seminole!" exclaimed Chitta, in a tone expressive of dislike
and contempt. He had never thought, even amid his wildest schemes for
obtaining revenge upon those whom he considered his enemies, to make
one of this band of outcasts.

"Un-cah" (yes), answered Cat-sha, fiercely, angered by the tone of the
other; "and why not? Art thou not already an outlaw and a runaway from
thy people? Having thus left them forever, to whom else canst thou
turn save to the brave and warlike Seminoles? Besides, if thou dost
not join us, I will kill thee where thou liest, and none shall ever
know thy fate. We Seminoles know but two kinds of men, those who are
of us and those who are against us."

Thus Chitta had no choice left him between making one of the band of
outlaws whose name was a term of reproach among all good Indians, and
meeting with a cruel death, from which he shrank. After a moment's
silence he made up his mind, and said, "So be it then, Cat-sha. From
this hour call me Chitta the Seminole. From this hour the wisdom of
the serpent shall be for them with whom he thus joins his fortunes, and
henceforth his fangs shall be held ready for all who are their enemies."

Cat-sha's dark face was again lighted by a cruel smile of triumph as he
listened to these words, for he knew that one of China's nature would
be a valuable addition to his band. He released his new recruit,
helped him to his feet, embraced him, and said,

"Chitta the Seminole, I welcome thee gladly to our number. The time
will come when we shall have increased to a great and powerful tribe,
and when the name given us by our enemies shall be honored of all men.
Let us go."

CHAPTER VIII

ON THE TRAIL

Cat-sha, the Seminole chief, rejoiced greatly at having gained to his
band so promising a young warrior as Chitta, who had so incurred the
enmity of both the white men and his own people as to be obliged to fly
from them for his life.

After eating together a meal of dried venison that the elder produced
from his wallet, the two Seminoles sat, concealed behind a thick
cluster of cactus, watching the river for any signs of pursuit, and
forming plans for future action. Cat-sha told Chitta that he had left
his band in their most inaccessible stronghold among the bayous and
deep morasses of the great Okeefenokee Swamp. He also said that, were
it not for the presence of so large a number of friendly Indians in the
immediate vicinity of Fort Caroline, he should bring his warriors to
attack it; for he had decided that the chances were in favor of his
success in so doing.

"Ha!" exclaimed Chitta, interrupting his chief at this point, "I may,
in that case, be of service to thee, though I am as yet untried in
battle." Then he told Cat-sha a secret that was known to but few of
his people, and which he himself had only discovered by accident. It
was the same that Has-se had declined to confide to Rene when the
latter questioned him as to the manner of his escape from the fort, and
it was indeed a secret of the utmost value to enemies of the white men.

Cat-sha listened attentively, and when Chitta had finished he
exclaimed, "Well done, my young brave! Thy serpent's wisdom is already
proving of value to us. What thou hast just told me makes clear our
plan of attack upon this nest of pale-faces, and removes one of the
chief difficulties in our way. Having this information, I regard the
fort and all that it contains as already in our power. We have only to
bide our time. Well may the white man tremble; for ere many days the
tiger, guided by the serpent, will spring at his throat."

As they talked, their attention was directed to a dark moving mass
floating down the river, close under its bank. Cat-sha soon pronounced
it to be a fleet of canoes filled with people, and they watched them
with eager curiosity.

It was, indeed, the tribe from which Chitta had fled, moving, under the
leadership of their chief, Micco, towards the land of the Alachuas,
where food in abundance awaited them. At the outset of their journey
they kept as close as possible under the river-bank, to avoid
observation from the white men in Fort Caroline, who, they feared,
might oppose their departure if they learned of it. It was not until
they reached the bold bluff from the summit of which the two Seminoles
watched their progress that they felt they were safe from the eyes of
the fort, and might strike boldly out into the river. Here, aided by
the full strength of the ebbing tide, they proceeded rapidly on their
way towards its mouth.

Seeing that the canoes which were thus passing beneath them contained,
besides the warriors of the tribe, its women and children, and all of
its movable property, Cat-sha concluded that it was a general movement
of Micco's people towards some distant place; and from the direction
they were taking, he guessed that their destination was the fertile
land of the Alachuas.

"This is thy doing," he said to Chitta, who was regarding in bitter
silence this departure of his people, towards whom he still felt drawn
by old association in spite of what he had so recently done and become.
"This is thy doing, my young Seminole. Thou hast destroyed their store
of food, and thus compelled them to go in search of more. Now let us
follow them, and when we have seen them at a safe distance, we will
bring my brave warriors to the attack of the white men shut up in
yonder gopher hole."

When the departing tribe was nearly out of sight down the river, the
two Seminoles, drawing Chitta's stolen canoe from its hiding-place,
started in pursuit. They so arranged their own movements that they ran
no chance of discovery from those in advance of them, though they were
never far behind. They carefully examined each camping-place of the
moving tribe, to assure themselves that no person was left behind who
might discover them, and they always placed their own little camp so
that it should be entirely concealed from those whom they followed.

Cat-sha was much pleased to find that in thus following Micco's tribe
he was also journeying in the direction of his own band, who awaited
him in the depths of the great swamp. He even meditated an attack upon
his Indian foes as they travelled, with their women, children, and
baggage, before leading his warriors back to Fort Caroline.

It was these two, then, whose traces had so puzzled Has-se as he and
Rene de Veaux in turn followed them, and it was their canoe of which
the two boys caught a fleeting glimpse in the great swamp.

"Look!" exclaimed Has-se, whose keen eye was the first to detect the
vanishing canoe. "These are either my own people, whom we have thus
overtaken, or those whom we know to be in close pursuit of them. Here
is work for us, Ta-lah-lo-ko, or rather for me, for it is my duty to
discover the meaning of this pursuit, and warn my people if danger is
near them, while I am also bound to keep thee as far as possible from
all harm."

"Nonsense, Has-se! It is well for thee to keep me out of danger so
long as thou keepest from it thyself; but since I have thrown my
fortunes with thine, thy friends are my friends, thy enemies are my
enemies, and thy safety or danger is mine to share with thee. So say
no more of my safety, save as it concerns thine as well, but lead on as
thou thinkest best, and I will follow thee as truly as though I were
enlisted beneath thy banner. Not that I suppose you Indians have such
things as banners, or understand their significance; but thou might
well have them, and be none the worse for the having."

Although Has-se made no reply to this brave speech, he accepted it as
an evidence of true friendship, and gave Rene a grateful smile, which
the latter understood to mean "Very well, Ta-lah-lo-ko, I accept thy
offer of service as heartily as thou dost tender it."

Under ordinary circumstances, Has-se's Indian instinct would not have
permitted him to cross the open water of the bayou in broad daylight
when he suspected that an enemy might be lying in wait for him on its
farther side. On this occasion, however, it seemed so impossible that
the occupants of the canoe, of which he had caught but the merest
glimpse, should have looked back and detected them at the same instant,
that he decided to push on, and if possible discover more of it. So he
and Rene crossed the open water as quickly and with as little noise as
possible, and as they approached its opposite side, Has-se gazed keenly
into the dark lanes between the moss-hung cypresses. He neither saw
nor heard anything to cause him alarm, and congratulating themselves
that they had not been discovered, the boys pushed on over waters of
another extremely narrow stream.

This, to Rene's surprise, flowed, though with an almost imperceptible
current, in the direction they were taking, or exactly opposite to that
of the river they had ascended from the salt-marshes of the east. As
Has-se had requested him to keep absolute silence, and on no account to
speak, he restrained his curiosity for the present, but determined to
seek an explanation of this phenomenon when an opportunity should offer.

He afterwards discovered that the river they had ascended, and that
they were now descending, both rose in the great swamp, and that their
headwaters were connected by navigable streams, but that while one
flowed east into the Atlantic, the other flowed west into the Gulf of
Mexico.

In thus deeming themselves undiscovered by those in advance of them,
the boys made an almost fatal mistake. The wily Cat-sha, accustomed to
look for danger behind every tree, and almost expecting to hear the
war-cry of his enemies in every breath of wind, knew better than to
leave open waters without looking behind as he did so. On this
occasion the quick glance thrown backward at the instant his canoe
entered the shadows of the cypresses detected the gleam of a paddle,
and he knew at once that he and Chitta were being followed, even as
they were following Micco and his people.

He said nothing until they were safely within the shadows, when he told
Chitta of his discovery. The latter advised going into hiding at once,
and awaiting the approach of their unknown pursuers; but the more
experienced Cat-sha said no, for if they had also been discovered, that
was exactly what they would be expected to do, and their pursuers would
exercise more than a usual amount of caution in approaching that point.
Once safely past it they would advance more boldly, thinking that their
own presence had been undetected. He therefore continued on down the
little stream for nearly a mile, until they reached a point where the
channel was so seriously obstructed by overhanging vines and stranded
driftwood that only a passage barely wide enough for a single canoe was
left open.

Here they drew their canoe from the water and carefully concealed it.
Then they took positions one on each side of the stream; and, hidden
behind screens of tangled vines, with arrows held ready to be fitted to
their bowstrings, they patiently awaited the coming of their unknown
pursuers.

Towards this well-planned trap, that seemed to insure their
destruction, Rene and Has-se advanced, cautiously, to be sure, but
without a warning of what awaited them. At length they had approached
within a quarter of a mile of the ambush, and one would have said that
nothing could prevent their falling into it.

At this point Has-se whispered, "Keep wide open thy ears as well as thy
eyes, Ta-lah-lo-ko"; and Rene answered also in a whisper,

"They are already so wide open that not the faintest hum of a gnat
escapes them. What's that?"

The sudden snapping of a twig by some bird or small animal caused them
to start, and listen for a moment with uplifted paddles. The canoe
thus left to itself, unguided, drifted aside, and hung for an instant
upon the upraised end of a sunken log. Rene reached his hand down into
the water to push it clear of the obstruction, but suddenly withdrew it
with a suppressed cry of pain and fright. At the same moment a large
water-snake, of the kind known as a moccasin, glided away, and
disappeared beneath the slimy bank.

CHAPTER IX

A TRAP AVOIDED AND FRIENDS DISCOVERED

At Rene's cry, suppressed though it was Has-se turned quickly, and in
time to see the moccasin glide away through the water. He also noted
the spot of blood on his companion's finger, at which the latter was
gazing with a look of horror.

Without a word the young Indian sprang to Rene's side, drew the little
sharp-pointed dagger from its sheath, and firmly but deliberately
enlarged with it the minute wound made by the fangs of the snake, until
the blood flowed freely from it; then raising the hand to his own
mouth, he sucked all that was possible of the poisoned blood from the
wound, stopping several times during the operation to rinse his mouth
with water.

When this was done he took a handful of slimy river mud and placed it
over the wounded place, bidding his friend hold it there. Then,
seizing his paddle, he turned the bow of the canoe up-stream in the
direction from which they had come. He paddled back to a small lagoon
that emptied into the stream, and in which he had noticed a peculiar
species of water-lily growing as they passed it on their way down.
Pulling a handful of these up by the roots, he selected one of the
bulbs attached to them, pounded it until it was a mass of fibre, and
washing the river mud from the wounded hand, he replaced it with this.

The hand had already swollen and become very painful, but the
application of the bruised lily-root acted so like a charm that Rene's
face showed an instant sense of relief, and he expressed his gratitude
to Has-se.

"It is nothing to do," replied the other. "It is but the remedy of my
people for such things." Then he added, with a sort of pride,

"The pale-faces are wise in many matters that we poor red men know
nothing of; but we have at least learned that for every evil there is a
remedy close at hand, and that wherever poisonous serpents are found
there also grows a plant that will render their poison harmless. In a
short time thy hand will be as sound as before it laid hold of
Chitta-wewa, the great water-snake."

"Tis marvellous!" exclaimed Rene; "and if thou wouldst return with me
to France, bringing with thee a few of these samples and thy knowledge
of their application, thou wouldst become a great medicine-man and
obtain much honor of my people."

Has-se only shook his head and smiled at this suggestion; then he said,

"For a time thou must lie perfectly quiet, and keep that upon thy hand
wet with cool water. Meantime I will carry out a plan of which I have
just conceived the idea. Near by, from the head of this lagoon, there
runs a narrow trail by which a great bend in the stream is cut off, and
a point much lower down upon it is reached. If thou wilt remain here
and nurse thy hand, I will cross to the lower stream by this trail; and
it may be that I will thus gain more speedy information concerning
those whom we follow."

Rene at once agreed to this plan, and was soon left alone to nurse his
hand and meditate upon his present strange position. From his savage
surroundings his thoughts ran back to the uncle whom he had left in
Fort Caroline to battle with sickness, and possibly with starvation and
the upbraidings of his own men. The boy's heart was full of tenderness
for the brave old soldier who had so promptly assumed the part of a
father towards him; and had he not been restrained by the consciousness
of the vital importance of the mission he had undertaken, he would have
been inclined to return at once and share whatever trials were
besetting the chevalier. From him the boy's thoughts sped to France
and the old chateau in which he was born. He almost laughed aloud as
he imagined the look of consternation with which old Francois would
regard him if he could now see him, lying alone in a fragile craft,
such as the old servant had never imagined, in the midst of a terrible
wilderness of great moss-hung trees, queer-looking plants, black
waters, and blacker mud.

From these reveries he was suddenly startled by the sound of a slight
splash in the water and a subdued human voice. Raising his head very
cautiously above the side of the canoe, Rene caught a glimpse, at the
mouth of the little lagoon in which his own craft was concealed, of
another canoe, in which were seated two Indians. It was headed
up-stream, but its occupants had paused in their paddling, and from
their gestures were evidently considering the exploration of the very
place in which he lay hidden from them. In one of them Rene recognized
the unwelcome face of Chitta the Snake, but the other he had never
before seen.

With a loudly beating heart and almost without breathing he watched
them, thankful enough for the shelter of broad lily-leaves that raised
their green barrier in front of him. He was fully conscious that upon
the result of the conversation the two were holding, in such low tones
that he could not distinguish a word, depended his own fate. He knew,
from what Has-se had told him, that Chitta regarded him as an enemy,
and he knew also that for his enemies an Indian reserves but one fate,
and will kill them if he can.

Thus it was with the feeling that he had escaped a mortal peril, and
with a long-drawn sigh of relief, that he saw the discussion come to an
end, and the strange canoe continue on its course up-stream. It
disappeared in the direction from which he and Has-se had come before
encountering the moccasin. Then he became feverishly impatient to
leave a place that seemed so full of danger, and he longed eagerly for
Has-se's return.

Although Rene watched anxiously for Has-se, he also cast frequent
glances towards the stream, fearful lest Chitta and his companion
should again appear. Thus he was not looking when his friend emerged
from the forest, and did not hear the light tread of his moccasined
feet. Nor was he aware of any presence near him, until a low laugh,
which so startled him that he almost upset the canoe, gave the first
hint of his friend's return.

"Oh, Has-se!" he exclaimed, in a whisper rendered hoarse by his
excitement, "glad am I to see thee once more. Chitta is in pursuit of
us, and with him is as evil-looking an Indian as ever I saw, but large
and powerful withal."

Then he related the whole incident of the appearance of the strange
canoe, to which Has-se listened with grave attention.

When Rene had finished he said, "Has-se also has something to tell.
Far down the river, on the side opposite the end of the trail, he heard
the sound of many voices, and he knows his people are there. Let us go
to them."

"But if we venture out into the stream, will not Chitta and the one
with him see us?"

"If they do not until we float on the river, they must prove themselves
swifter than Hu-la-lah" (the wind) "to catch us before we reach
friends. How is thy hand? Is the sting of Chitta-wewa still painful?"

"Oh! my hand? Why, no; I had no thought of it until now. Thanks to
thy application, the pain and the swelling seem alike to have been
removed."

"Then let us go, and if it comes to meeting Chitta, we will see if we
cannot render his sting as harmless as that of his namesake
Chitta-wewa."

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