“Of what avail is it to you or to me, that you hold me here a captive? Take me to my people. The maize is probably ripened in my fields. One of these shall be set aside for your use wholly, with all its store of corn and beans, if you will set me free in my own country.”
Laudonniere consulted with his chief men. They concurred in granting the petition of the Paracoussi. The two barks were accordingly fitted out, and, with a select detachment, Laudonniere proceeded with his captive to a place called Patica, some eight or nine leagues distant from the village of Utina. The red-men fled at their approach, seeking cover in the forests, though their king, himself, cried to them to await his coming. To pursue them was impossible. To trust the king out of their possession, without any equivalent, was impolitic. Another plan was pursued. One of the sons of the Paracoussi, a mere boy, had been taken with his father. It was now determined to dismiss this boy to the village, accompanied by one of the Frenchmen, who had been thither before, and who knew the character and condition of the country. His instructions were to restore the boy to his mother and his kindred, and to say that his father should be delivered also, if an adequate supply of provisions was brought to the vessel. The ancient chronicle, briefly, but very touchingly, describes the welcome which was given to the enfranchised child. All were delighted to behold him, the humblest making as much of him as if he had been the nearest kindred, and each man thinking himself never so happy as when permitted to touch him with his hand. The wife of Utina, with her father, came to the barks of the Frenchmen, bringing bread for the present wants of the company; but the policy of the Indians did not suffer the pleadings of the woman to prevail. The parties could not agree about the terms of ransom; the red-men, meanwhile, practised all their arts to delay the departure of the vessels. It was discovered that they were busy with their forest strategy, seeking rather to entrap the captain of the French, than to bargain for the recovery of their own chieftain. Laudonniere was compelled finally to return with his prisoner to La Caroline, as hungry as ever, and with no hopes of the future.
Here, a new danger awaited the captive. Furious at their disappointment, the starving Frenchmen, as soon as the failure of the enterprise was known, armed themselves, and with sword and matchlock assailed the little cavalcade which had the chief in custody, as they were about to disembark. With gaunt visages and staring eyes, that betrayed terribly the cruel famine under which they were perishing, and cries of such terrible wrath, as left but little doubt of the direst purpose, they darted upon their prey. But Laudonniere manfully interposed himself, surrounded by his best men, between their rage and his victim. Captain La Vasseur and Ensign D’Erlach, each seized upon a mutineer whom they held ready to slay at a stroke given; and other good men and true, coming to the rescue, the famishing mutineers were shamed and frightened into forbearance. But bitterly did they complain of the lack of wisdom in their captain, who had released the son, the precious hope of the nation, retaining the sire, for whom, having a new king, the savages cared nothing. Their murmurs drove Laudonniere forth once more. Taking the Paracoussi with him, after a brief delay, he proceeded to explore other villages along the river. The red-men planted two crops during the growing season. Their maize ripened gradually, and fields that yielded nothing during one month, were in full grain in that ensuing. For fifteen days the French commandant continued his explorations with small success; when the Paracoussi, whom nothing had daunted, of his proper and haughty firmness, during all his captivity, once more appealed to his captors:
“That my people did not supply you with maize and beanes when you sought them last, was because they were not ripe. I spake to you then as a foolish young man, anxious to set foot once more among my people. I should have known that the grain could not be ready then for gathering. But the season is now. It is ripened everywhere, and, in the present abundance of my people, they will gladly yield to your demands, and give full ransom for their king. Take me thither then, once more, and my people will not stick to give you ample victual.”
The necessities of the French were too great to make them hesitate at a renewal of the attempt, where all others had proved so profitless; particularly when the old king, with some solemnity, placing his hand upon the wrist of the French captain, said to him—
“Brother, doubt me not—doubt not my people. If they answer thee not to thy expectations as well as mine, bring me back to thy people, and let them do with me even as they please?”
Again was the Paracoussi brought into the presence of his subjects. They assembled to meet him on the banks of a little river, which emptied into the main stream, and to which Laudonniere had penetrated in his vessels. They appeared with considerable supplies of bread, fish and beans, which they shared among the Frenchmen. They put on the appearance of great good feeling and friendship, and entered into the negotiations for the release of their king, with equal frankness and eagerness. But in all this they exhibited only the consummate hypocrisy of their race;—a hypocrisy not to be wondered at or complained of, as it is the only natural defence which a barbarous people can ever possibly oppose to the superior power of civilization. Their effort was simply still so to beguile the Frenchmen, as to ensnare their leader,—get him within their power, and then compel an exchange with his people of chief for chief. For this purpose they prolonged the negotiations. Small supplies of food, enough to provoke expectation, without satisfying demand, were brought daily to their visitors. But, in the meantime, their warriors began to accumulate along the shores, covered in the neighboring thickets, or crouching in patient watch along the reedy tracts that fringed the river. The vigilant eye of Alphonse D’Erlach soon detected the ambush; and at length, finding Laudonniere preparing to leave them, still keeping their king a captive, the savages resumed their negotiations with more activity, and withdrew their archers from the neighborhood.
It must not be supposed that their love for their monarch was small, because they showed themselves so slow in bringing the humble ransom of corn and beans, which the French demanded. To them, that ransom was by no means insignificant. It swept their granaries. It took the food from their children. It drove them into the woods in winter without supplies, leaving them to the rigors of the season, the uncertainties of the chase, and with no other dependence than the common mast of the forest. It deprived them of the very seed from which future harvests were to be gathered. The drain for the supply of the hungry mouths at La Caroline, seemed to them perpetual, and Laudonniere aimed now not only to meet the wants of the present, but to store ships and fort against future necessities. It was of the last importance to the people of Olata Utina, that they should recover their king without subjecting their people to the horrors of such a famine as was preying upon the vitals of the Frenchmen.
They over-reached Laudonniere at last. They persuaded him that the presence of the king, among his people, was necessary to compel each man to bring in his subsidy;—that they must see him, in his former abodes, freed entirely from bonds, before they would recognize his authority;—that they feared, when they should have brought their grain, that the French would still retain their captive;—and, in short, insisted so much upon the freedom of Utina, as the sine quâ non, that the doubts of Laudonniere were overcome. It was agreed that two chiefs should become hostages for Olata Utina, and, in guaranty of the fulfilment of his pledges.
We are not told of the exact amount of ransom required for the surrender of their king. It was probably enormous, according to the equal standards of Indian and Frenchmen, in this period and region. Willingly came the two chiefs to take the place of Olata Utina. They were admitted on board the bark, where he was kept in chains. They were warriors, and as they approached him, they broke their bows and arrows across, and threw them before him: Then, as they beheld his bonds, they rushed to his feet, lifted up and kissed his chains, and supported them, while the Frenchmen unlocked them from the one captive to transfer them to the hands and feet of those who came to take his place. These looked not upon the bonds as they were riveted about their limbs. They only watched the movements of their king with eyes that declared a well-satisfied delight. He rose from his place, and shook himself slowly, as a lion might be supposed to do, rousing himself after sleep. Never was head so erect, or carriage so like one who feels all his recovered greatness. He waved his hand in signal to the shore, where hundreds of his people were assembled to greet his deliverance.