Through Swamp and Glade: A Tale of the Seminole War

by Kirk Munroe

The alternative thus presented was a bitter one. The loss of their money would involve Philip Emathla and his band in new difficulties with the whites, to whom they were in debt for goods that were to be paid for on the receipt of their annuity. The old man knew that his creditors would have no mercy upon him, but would seize whatever of his possessions they could attach. Nor could mercy be expected for his son and Louis Pacheco should they be delivered into the hands of their enemies.

Long did the perplexed chieftain sit silent and with bowed head, considering the situation. His warriors, grouped at a short distance, watched him with respectful curiosity. At length he submitted the case to them and asked their advice.

With one accord, and without hesitation, they answered: "Let the Iste-hatke (white man) keep his money. We can live without it; but if one hair of Coacoochee's head should be harmed, our hearts would be heavy with a sadness that could never be lifted."

So Philip Emathla affixed his mark to the paper that the agent had prepared for him, and was allowed to depart in peace the next day. Of the money thus obtained from the Indians two hundred dollars served to salve the wound in Ross Ruffin's arm, and eight hundred satisfied for the time being the claim of Mr. Troup Jeffers, the slave-trader. What became of the balance is unknown, for the agent's books contain no record of the transaction.

Coacoochee and Louis had halted within friendly shadows on the edge of the forest, and there held themselves in readiness to fly to the assistance of their friends, should sounds of strife proclaim an attack upon the encampment. Here they remained during the night, and only rejoined Philip Emathla on his homeward march the following day. When they learned from him the particulars of the transaction by which their liberty had been assured, both of them were bitterly indignant at the injustice thus perpetrated.

The indignation of the young creole was supplemented by a profound gratitude, and he swore that if the time ever came when it should lie in his power to repay the debt thus incurred, he would do so with interest many times compounded. Now, feeling secure in the freedom for which so great a price had been paid, he returned to his home on the Tomoka, where for several months he devoted himself assiduously to labor on the little plantation that afforded the sole support of his mother, his sister, and himself. During this time of diligent toil, though he found no opportunity for communicating with his Indian friends of the lake region, they were often in his thoughts, and his heart warmed toward them with an ever-increasing gratitude as he reflected upon the awful fate from which they had saved him.

While the busy home life of the family on the Tomoka flowed on thus peacefully and happily, there came one evening a timid knock at the closed door of their house, and a weak voice, speaking in negro dialect, begged for admittance.

Louis, holding a candle, opened the door, and as he did so, was struck a blow on the head that stretched him senseless across the threshold. As Nita, who was the only other occupant of the house at that moment, witnessed this dastardly act, she uttered a piercing scream and was about to fling herself on her brother's body, but was roughly pushed back by two white men, who entered the room, and dragging Louis back from the door, closed it behind them.

One of the men, who were those precious villains Troup Jeffers and Ross Ruffin, bound the wrists of the unconscious youth behind him, while the other ordered Nita to bring them food, threatening to kill her brother before her eyes in case she refused. The terrified girl hastened to obey; but, as with trembling hands she prepared the table with all that the house afforded in the way of provisions, her mind was filled with wild schemes of escape and rescue. Her mother was absent, having gone to sit with the dying child of their only near neighbors, a negro family living a short distance down the river.

While the girl thus planned, and strove to conceal her agony of thought beneath an appearance of bustling activity, the slave-catchers dashed water in her brother's face and used other means to restore him to consciousness. In this they were finally successful.