Not so with Louis Pacheco. The second cry had confirmed the suspicion aroused by the first. It was long since he had heard the signal of Coacoochee; but he recognized and answered it. The gentle, quavering cry of a little screech owl, though coming from the camp, alarmed no one. It went straight to the ears of Coacoochee, however, as he lay hidden in the saw-palmettoes, only a few rods beyond the tents, and he was content to wait patiently, knowing that his friend had heard and understood his signal.
All the old forest instincts, long suppressed and almost forgotten, were instantly aroused in Louis. No Indian could have crept more cautiously or silently toward the line of sentries than he, and none could have slipped past them more deftly. A few minutes later the owl's note was sounded at the edge of the hammock and immediately answered from a spot but a short distance away. Then there came a rustle beside the motionless figure and a whispered:
"Louis, my brother?"
"Coacoochee, is it you?"
For a few minutes they whispered only of their own affairs, and Louis learned of Nita's escape from the slave-catchers, of her flight to Philip Emathla's village, and of her betrothal to Coacoochee, all in a breath. He longed to fly to her at that very moment; but a weary journey lay between them, and before he could undertake it a stern and terrible duty remained to be performed. He must return to the camp of soldiers and remain with them to the bitter end. Otherwise the plan for their destruction might yet miscarry.
Coacoochee told him the reason why the attack had not already been made was that the Indians had awaited the arrival of Osceola and Micanopy. The latter had come in that evening, and it was decided to wait no longer, but to begin the fight at daylight.
Louis opposed this plan, saying that Major Dade expected an attack to be made at daylight, if made at all, and would be particularly on guard at that time. He also seemed to feel that if he were attacked, it would be from that swamp. Therefore, the mulatto advised that the attack be made at a point some miles beyond the swamp, where nothing of the kind would be anticipated.
Coacoochee acknowledged the soundness of this advice, and agreeing to follow it, the two separated, one to lead his warriors to the appointed place and prepare them for battle, the other to work his way with infinite caution back into the camp of sleeping soldiers. Fortunately for him the night was intensely dark, and though at one time a sentry passed so close that he could have touched him, by lying flat and almost holding his breath he escaped discovery.
He had barely reached his sleeping-place and rolled himself again in his blanket, when an officer came along, and stumbling over his prostrate form, exclaimed:
"Hello, Louis! Is that you?"