The inquiry is often made by those who have never visited here, How do you kill time in that ancient city? To the historian, there is no spot so well adapted to meditation on the past, where associations are awakened with greater rapidity, when the Indians held undisputed sway, only dreaming of plenty and the happy hunting-grounds beyond; but, suddenly as the Montezuma monarch, their territory was wrested from them by the Spaniards, whom these unlettered savages at first regarded as children of the Great Spirit; but when the ensigns of authority were unfurled, their country overran by myrmidons, and the power of their cazique sneered at, then the illusion vanished—the truth dawning that they were only sojourners whose presence did not add to the happiness of the newly self-constituted sovereigns of their country.
Three distinct classes of visitors come here—the defiant, the enthusiastic, and the indifferent. The defiant spend their time in assailing, “with vehement irony,” every thing with which they are placed in contact, ringing changes upon any thing disagreeable to them, until their companions are wearied beyond measure. The enthusiastic rise more or less on the wings of their fertile imagination, when exaggerated accounts, highly colored, are written about Florida as it appeared to them—the change from the North to a land clothed in the perpetual verdure of spring-time being so great, they were enraptured in a manner that others of less delicate susceptibilities have failed to realize. The indifferent tourist is an anomaly to everybody. Why he ever thought of leaving home to travel, when with his undemonstrative nature he appears so oblivious to all scenes and sights around him, is an unsolved problem. He maintains an unbroken reticence on every occasion, the mantle of silence being thrown about all his movements, while his general appearance evinces the same amount of refinement as a polar bear, his perceptive powers the acuteness of an oyster, his stupidity greater than Balaam’s saddle-animal.
St. Augustine, 1876.—The minds of the citizens and visitors in the city have been on the qui vive for several days, in anticipation of witnessing the realities, in miniature, connected with a buffalo-chase on the prairies, in which princes from Europe have participated, regarding it as the crowning feat of their exploits in the New World. For days previous ladies were discussing the propriety of their presence, as the animal might be so unmanageable as to imperil their safety; very brave lads, who have been sufficiently courageous to fire a pistol at an alligator while in Florida, thought they might be safe in the fort if they were to climb upon the walls, and very small boys concluded their fathers would keep the buffalo from hurting them.
Long before 3 o’clock the fort was enlivened by those bent on sight-seeing. Here were the richly-dressed ladies and their escorts, with New-York-style mustaches, where only a restricted smile ever rested, gazing through their eye-glasses toward every thing that came near enough for them to take sight at, as though a fixed stare through optical instruments was more excusable and allowable than with the naked eye. Children of all sizes and colors came in crowds. There were more old people present, whose silvery hair looked like a “crown of glory,” than could be seen in any other town at once in the United States. Like Ponce de Leon, they visit St. Augustine in search of the famous waters which would give back their youth, restore and strengthen their feeble limbs with renewed vigor, that would be perpetual as the verdure and beauty by which they are surrounded. Nor are they disappointed in all respects; for if they do not grow younger, they prolong their days to enjoy more of God’s pure air and sunlight, mingled with the perfume of flowers and singing of sweet birds, than they would in their own homes.
As the time for the chase approached, painted Indians peered from every part of the fort, most of them dressed in full costume, their heads trimmed with feathers from birds of varied plumage, the most conspicuous of which was the American turkey-tail. They were wrapped in gaily-colored blankets, profusely trimmed with beads, all of which trailed in a very negligee manner, while they seemed as much excited with the surroundings as any of the spectators. The Indians regard death with much less terror than do the whites. They say that if in hunting a horse falls and kills them, they will go where game is abundant, always living there—thus, like the Christian, making death the golden gate to glory.
No bugle echoed through the woodlands wild as a signal for the chase to commence, nor well-trained dogs, with the lead-hound barking fiercely from the excitement of a fresh trail which indicated a near approach to game. Their captain, to whom real buffalo-hunts on the boundless prairies are no novelty, led the van, followed by four painted, gaily-dressed, full-rigged Indians. They all rode as though their homes were in the saddle, and swiftly as if bright visions of fleet-footed game were feeding in green fields, only waiting to be captured by being shot at with their well-aimed arrows. They made some fine exhibitions of horsemanship, peculiar to their methods of warfare and hunting. In riding, they described circles, as if surrounding a foe in ambush, at the same time discharging their arrows, at a distance of two hundred yards, with great accuracy, while their horses were running at full speed. Their arrows perforated a small building, which they used as a target, penetrating so far they could not be removed without being broken. Gathered in groups outside the fort, near the hunting-ground, were many boys and young men of the more daring class, who displayed their bravery by a foot-race which put Weston, or any other walker, in the shade, whenever the buffalo looked toward them. Every thing was a success, except the buffalo, which was a small steer, that would not scare on any account. He was entirely too gentle for the fever-heat of excitement to which the feelings and imagination of the crowd had been wrought up. He shook his head once or twice, and started as though he might create a sensation, but would not keep far enough ahead for the hunters to make any thing like a good charge on him. Finally an arrow, sped from the bow of White Horse, pierced his vitals to the depth of four or five inches, killing him instantly. His throat was then cut, after which he was dressed and hauled into the fort, where ample preparations were made for his reception, with immense fires and kettles of hot water. Some of the Indians ate the heart and liver raw, which process did not look very appetizing to a delicate stomach. They always cook their food before eating it when in their native wilds, except the heart and liver, which they sometimes consume as a medicine. At a given signal among themselves, those not engaged in cooking commenced dancing. In their movements the poetry of music, or motion, has no votaries; but a slight approach toward it is made, as they all take the Grecian bend, and keep it, while going through their gyrations. When weary they group together around the fires, turning their right foot on the side, and seating themselves with an ease no studied art could teach them, and then they rest more free from care than the heart that beats beneath ermine, or reclines on velvet cushions. When their meat was cooked they terminated the day’s exercise with a feast, which they all seemed to enjoy very much, each Indian consuming about four pounds of flesh, with a greedy gusto before which an epicure would retire in disgust. The grand war-dance of the season came off after dark, when prisoners were captured and treated with sham hostilities. The mind of the imaginative could portray what would be done in reality to a helpless captive in their power.
We regard these poor savages as only a connecting link between the herd that roams the “verdant waste”—who see the Great Spirit in clouds, and hear him in the crashing storms—and ourselves. May we not inquire if their condition cannot be improved, and their voices, which only shout for conquest over a vanquished enemy, or in the chase while victimizing the huge buffalo with bleeding, gaping wounds, be taught to sing the songs of redeeming grace for a ransomed world?
CHAPTER XIV.
AT no other town in the State is the entertainment for visitors more of a success than here, and one of those pleasant occasions brought a large number of happy hearts together, to witness a grand opening of the Lunch-basket on the North Beach.
Many have been the devices, in all ages of the world, by every nation peopling the habitable globe, for a relaxation from the sterner duties of life. Among the first to which persons of various tastes have resorted is archery, which was practiced by that wild outcast, Ishmael, “whose hand was against every man, and every man’s hand against him.” We also read in the Pentateuch of a great and mighty hunter named Nimrod; while conspicuously prominent among the biblical characters Job poetizes upon drawing large finny monsters from the deep waters, and at a later date in the same profession of the apostles.