Unfortunately the best he had did not embrace the hill; and, therefore, Rody was unsatisfied.
More than once during the progress of the settlement, he had cast a wishful eye upon the spot, as the choicest site in the whole district for a dwelling.
As his means expanded so had his tastes, and a grand dwelling became the great desire of his life.
It must, perforce, be built upon the hill.
To every offer made to Oluski for a cession of this spot, the chief had firmly and steadfastly given a refusal. He, too, had his ambition; which, although not so selfish as the white man’s, was not a whit less cherished.
For nine months in the year Oluski and his tribe dwelt in a distant Indian town, and only visited the waters of Tampa Bay for the remaining three, and then only for the purposes of pleasure. The wigwams of himself and people were but temporarily erected upon the hill. For all this they had an attachment for the spot; in short, they loved it.
This was what Elias Rody stigmatised as a mere fancy.
There was another reason held in similar estimation by Elias. In the rear of their annual encampment was an Indian cemetery. The bones of Oluski’s ancestors reposed therein. Was it strange the spot should be dear to him?
So dear was it, in fact, that to every proposal made by Rody for the purchase of the hill, Oluski only shook his head, and answered “No.”