Here, away from his natural surroundings, one could study his Indian characteristics from an unprejudicial standpoint.
As a specimen of manhood, he is far above the average. Although six feet, two inches tall, he is so symmetrically proportioned that one loses sight of his height. His features are good, his hands and feet remarkably small, his voice soft and low—a characteristic of every Seminole.
His dress was the holiday attire of the tribe, his tunic or shirt he had made himself, was highly decorated with bands of narrow red,—leggins and moccasins elaborately thonged, and around his neck about a dozen gaily colored handkerchiefs, not worn for warmth, but because it is a Seminole fashion.
His large turban was embraced by a silver band, made from four silver dollars beaten with the implements which can be found at an Indian village. He wore a gold watch and chain and regulated his timepiece by the railroad clock. Billy is a fantastic dresser, but he is a loyal Seminole and a progressive one, too. He keeps posted on the markets in his own particular line of business. His pockets bulge with letters received from New York and Jacksonville buyers of skins and otter pelts. He expects no favors, pays for what he receives and keeps a promise, although a year may elapse before he is able to do so. He is often a purchasing agent for members of the band, and in his small way has a mercantile mind, buying four shawls for $1.75 that would retail at fifty cents each, he will sell out, with the satisfactory remark, “25 cents me make ’em.”
Billy ventures beyond the confines of his Everglade home, much oftener than any other of the tribe. To the stranger he is all indifference, answering: “Yes,” “No,” “Me don’t know,” as it suits him.
A SECTION OF A SAW GRASS SWAMP WITH THE STAKES SET FOR A NEW DRAINAGE WAY
“The onward march of the white brother into the last hunting ground of the Seminoles.”
Billy has visited St. Augustine, and has seen the Ponce De Leon Hotel, but explained that “no get inside.” The season was not “on,” otherwise the Seminole brave would have been one of the celebrities that enter its great portals. New York and Washington do honor to dukes and counts, and this Aboriginal American Knight is no less a Prince of the Everglades.
He has made several visits to Kissimmee, hence is well known to the white people. At the ringing of the church bells on Sunday morning it was explained to the Indian that they were to call the people to the church, so that the preacher might tell them of the white man’s God. With the inquiry, “You go?” to his host, and receiving an answer in the affirmative, Billy said, “Me go too.”