COACOOCHEE IS AGAIN MADE PRISONER
Although the Seminoles had generally been victorious in their battles with the whites, they were struggling against a power so infinitely greater than theirs that the four years of war already elapsed had made very serious inroads upon both their strength and their resources. Their entire force was in the field, and they had no reserves from which to draw fresh warriors. They must raise their own food supplies even while they fought. They could not manufacture powder nor arms, and could only gain infrequent supplies of these by successful battles or forays. The fresh, well-armed, and well-fed troops, operating against them, outnumbered them ten to one. Their entire country was dotted with stockaded posts, called by courtesy "forts," garrisoned by troops who were continually driving the Indians from hammock to hammock, destroying their fields, and burning their villages.
One line of these posts extended across the Territory, from Fort Brooke on Tampa Bay to St. Augustine, cutting off the northern bands from those who had sought refuge amid the vast swamps of the south. Another line extended down the west coast, and up the Caloosahatchie to Lake Okeechobee; while a third line commanded the Atlantic coast from St. Augustine to the mouth of the Miami River, where it empties into far-distant Biscayne Bay. Of this last chain the principal posts were Fort Pierce, on the Indian River opposite the inlet, Fort Jupiter at the mouth of the Locohatchie, Fort Lauderdale on New River, and Fort Dallas on Biscayne Bay. The last named was most important of all, because of its size, its strength, nearly all of its buildings being so solidly constructed of stone that some of them are in a good state of preservation to this day, and on account of its situation, which commanded the Everglades and the system of waterways connecting them with the coast.
Under these circumstances, it is no wonder that the Indians were weary of the hopeless struggle against such overwhelming odds, and that Colonel Worth found Coacoochee willing to talk peace.
The two war-chiefs seemed drawn to each other, and to understand each other from the first. During the four days that Coacoochee remained in the camp of the soldiers, they held many informal talks concerning the subject of greatest importance to them both. For a long time, Coacoochee argued stoutly against the removal of his people to a distant country, and pleaded hard for a reservation in their own land.
To this Colonel Worth replied that more than half the tribe were already removed, and could never be brought back. Also that, with the great tide of white immigration setting steadily southward, no reservation in Florida, worth the having, could be secured to the Indians for more than a few years; at the end of which time the existing troubles would rise again with exaggerated violence.
These arguments finally prevailed, and with a heavy heart the young chief admitted the necessity of leaving the land of his birth. He, however, made one stipulation.
"There are among us," he said, "those of a darker skin than ours, but who are yet our brothers. Many of them were born to freedom in the land of the Iste-chatte. They have fought with us for our liberty, and have died by our side. They are with us as one people, and where we go they must also go. If Coacoochee surrenders, and exerts his influence for the removal of his people, it is only on condition that those of the Iste-lustee now dwelling with the Seminoles shall go with them, and that no one of them shall ever be claimed by a white man as his slave. Are the words of Coacoochee good in the ears of the white war-chief?"