Hubbard made some reply inaudible to Jackson. In a freer tone Sevier asked—
“What is the latest news?”
“That —— mixed-blood, John Watts, and his Chickamaugas have gone to water. They’ll be raiding the French Broad and Holston next.”
Sevier pursed his lips musingly and said:
“We must have more men, more arms and money. North Carolina must act on my petition.”
Hubbard laughed harshly and sneered:
“Why should they give money when you’ve always been ready to foot the bills? Ask them for money, and they’ll tell you that the Indians—curse them, curse them—are friendly and much abused. And they’ll leave you to pay the shot.”
“I can’t pay again. I’ve spent my all,” Sevier quietly answered. “But I’m hopeful the State will show common sense. North Carolina must realize we’re no longer able to handle the criminals pouring over the mountains without courts; that we’re unable to stand off the Creek Nation once the Cherokees join it. Old Tassel can’t always hold his three thousand in check.”
“His chiefs rebel. Many of his young warriors are stealing away to go to water and follow Watts,” was the gloomy response.
A few words more and Hubbard returned to the trail and struck off for the forest. Sevier stood and looked after him uneasily. Wheeling about, his face betrayed his anxiety and prompted Jackson to ask: