“Hoitle-mattee does not write.”
“It is not necessary; your name is already written; you have only to place your finger upon it.”
“I might put my finger on the wrong place.”
“You can sign by making a cross,” continued the agent, still in hopes that the chief would consent.
“We Seminoles have but little liking for the cross; we had enough of it in the days of the Spaniards. Hulwak!”
“Then you positively refuse to sign?”
“Ho! Mister Commissioner does it surprise you?”
“Be it so, then. Now hear what I have to say to you.”
“Hoitle-mattee’s ears are as open as the commissioner’s mouth,” was the sneering rejoinder.
“I depose Hoitle-mattee from the chieftainship of his clan. The Great Father will no longer recognise him as chief of the Seminoles.”