“War with the white man!” ran through the nation of the Muscogee. “War! The Great Spirit has commanded it!”
Through the remainder of the winter and the next spring, clashes took place between the military and the Indians, who were preparing for the war. Settlers were attacked, hunters were driven from their trapping grounds. At Burnt Corn, a number of whites and half-breeds were assembled for mutual protection; the Creeks attacked, defeated and scattered them. Farms were abandoned, the settlers flocking to the numerous stockades to await the expected onslaught.
Having remained idle, so far as their mission was concerned, through the fall, the winter and the spring, Jack and Frank, together with Running Elk, made up their minds that they could not afford to waste any more time. So, in the month of July, in spite of the protests of the friends they had made at Mobile, they took horse and rode into the wilderness once more.
“It’s a risk,” admitted Jack to his comrades, “but, then, we can’t wait forever.”
“I’d rather face the Creeks than the clock,” stated Frank. “They were the longest hours I ever spent toward the last.”
As for the young Cherokee hunter, he seemed greatly pleased with the venture; the danger, instead of being dreaded in his case, was welcomed.
“Brave must fight,” said he, elatedly. “Not like squaw or papoose.”
“Well, I’d just as leave dodge any fighting at the odds we’ll have to give,” said Jack, drily. “But,” and there was a hopeful note in his voice, “maybe we’ll not be molested much. You see,” to Frank, “that section of the Alabama River where the triple oaks stand has no white settlers; and the Indians at this time are mustering in the neighborhoods they mean to attack. We might go through the entire grant which you’re looking for and not see a single redskin.”
“I hope that turns out the case,” remarked Frank, though it was plain he had no strong expectations of the affair’s proving so. “But let us keep a good lookout, just the same. I haven’t had but a few brushes with the Creeks, but I know they have a habit of turning up just at the time you’re not expecting them.”
But it so happened Jack Davis’ judgment of the conditions of affairs along that section of the river was quite correct. At most times it would have been the region in which to find the Creeks the thickest; but, save for a few villages occupied by old men, and women and children, there were no braves to be seen. Signs were everywhere of parties having passed that way; they came upon the blackened remains of a half hundred camp-fires; but not a single eagle feather was visible anywhere about; not a bow twanged, not a war cry sounded.