“Where is this messenger?” said Jackson. “Let him be brought here, and with an interpreter.”
“He can speak English very well, general,” now spoke Frank Lawrence. “But he’s badly hurt.”
“Very well!” The commander reached for his hat, and the officers prepared to follow him. “Lead the way.”
Seated upon a fallen tree beside the Cherokee fire, General Jackson listened to the story of Black Bear; and when he had heard it all, he looked at his officers.
“This appears to be a most grave situation,” said he, “for the town seems in great danger. From this man’s story the Creeks are in force, and a blow dealt them now would have a double purpose—it would rescue the Indians who are our friends, and it would go far toward breaking the power of the hostiles.”
The opinions of the officers present were that it was an opportunity not to be lost. At once they returned to Jackson’s tent; others of the senior officers were summoned and a brief council of war was held. Before dawn the bugles blew, and the drums rolled; horse and foot, the army of Tennessee fell into column, and with the graying of the eastern sky, pushed across the river and toward Talladega.
CHAPTER XI
CAPTURED BY THE CREEKS
As in all his previous advances, General Jackson sent a body of horsemen before the main column, under command of the giant Colonel Coffee. In advance of these, again, rode the scouts and pathfinders, mostly Indians and hunters who knew the country through which they were passing.
Jack and Frank were in this party of keen-sighted trailers, and rode side by side down the forest aisles and across the shallow streams. Jack regarded his friend with a humorous look.
“This kind of a thing is different from Richmond,” said he. “You wouldn’t find there things so stirring, nor so exciting, of an early morning, I know.”