CHAPTER VI.
Comparative comfort—The American ensign—Christmas day—My visit to the barracks—The Indian boys—Cambiaso’s rage—Execution of the Indian woman—The cattle slaughtered—Escape of the Indians—Fears of the rebels—Preparations for leaving—The Florida re-christened—Interview with Cambiaso—The embarking of the colonists—Prisoners sent to the Florida.
After my removal to the Florida, I made myself comparatively comfortable, with the help of my steward Tom, who seemed as if he could never do enough for me. I was allowed to take possession of my state-room, and found some few of my personal effects lying about the vessel, which I took the liberty of taking possession of. Tom had two of my shirts, which he had washed in his best manner, and hid for me. The luxury of a change of clothes and a good bath, was delightful to me. Tom was allowed to do my cooking at the same time that he did Tapia’s, our rations being brought from the barracks. I used to eat my meals, sitting on the deck, it being then the height of summer, and very warm most of the time, in the cabin.
One morning, in loitering on the deck, I saw the American ensign, which had been ignominiously thrown behind a coil of rope. I glanced around, and finding that no one was observing me, raised it, and hurried with it to my state room, concealing it beneath my mattrass.
I found the Florida much injured by the neglect and rough usage she had undergone. Many of her sails were destroyed, her running and standing gear cut up, and one of her quarter boats lost. This grieved me very much; and with Tom’s aid, I endeavored gradually to repair such of the injuries as it was in my power to mend, thinking that the time might come when the vessel might enable us to make our escape.
The morning of Christmas Day dawned, bringing to me so many sad recollections that I became nervously restless, and unable to remain quietly on board my vessel. Every thing seemed to remind me of home, by the very force of contrast; the wild, foreign faces around me; the strange language, made harsh by oaths and curses, which greeted my ear; the summer vegetation; the heat—all so opposed to every thing associated with the season in my mind; the recollection of the terrible scenes I had passed through; of my present danger, and of what might be still before me—all pressed upon me, until some change of place seemed to me absolutely necessary.
I determined to go on shore; so, taking a boat, accompanied by Tapia and some of his men, we rowed ashore, and soon reached the barracks.
Here, every thing was in confusion—such confusion, that I quickly wished myself back again on board the barque. The soldiers were mostly under arms, the released prisoners and my crew standing in groups on the parade ground; and, looking towards Cambiaso’s house, which was in the middle of the yard, I saw him standing at the door, talking to Garcia, and apparently in a state of great excitement. Not willing to come under his notice in his present mood, I passed quietly around the yard, looking for somebody from whom I could obtain information. Mr. Dunn I could not see, he being still under guard, confined with captains Avalos and Salas; but I soon met my old fellow-prisoner, the English mate, and from him and some of the Chilians I gathered the cause of the uproar.
There had been several visits from the Indians during the last week or two, and there was some reason to suppose that some of these late visitors had come as spies. The herdsmen who had the charge of the cattle belonging to the colony, had reported that they had of late seen Indians, armed, lurking around the cattle, and hanging about the woods which surrounded the cantonment. This had roused Cambiaso’s suspicions, and on the day after I removed to the Florida, he had seized two Indian boys who had been living some time in the barracks, and, apparently with the design of intimidating the Indians, had ordered them to be conveyed to a point about two miles distant, at a place where the Indians were accustomed to pass, on their way to the barracks. There they were hung by the neck to the trees, and lanced to death, their cheeks and noses being cut off.