A Land Remembered, Volume 1, page 2
“Well, I don’t believe the Lord would like to live all winter on nothing but coon meat and swamp cabbage. I got to have a horse and a dog. And some more powder and shot to make shells. I can trap coons and trade the hides, but I can’t trap a ’gator. You got to shoot him. And the man at the trading post told me he would pay a dollar fifty for alligator hides. I bet there’s a thousand of them in the creek just waiting to be shot and skinned.”
“Maybe we could kill them with an axe,” Zech said, becoming excited at the thought of hunting alligators.
“Son, you hit a ’gator on the head with an axe, he’d just grab the handle and eat the whole thing. Then he’d finish up his meal with both your legs. You got to shoot a ’gator to kill him. So for now we’ll have to make do with coon hides. Maybe I’ve got enough of them tacked to the barn to get us some real flour and some cornmeal too. And also a pound of coffee. I done forgot how it tastes. I’ll go over to the trading post the end of the week and swap all I have. Tomorrow I’ll cut some cypress poles and start building a pen for the cows. Somehow or other I’m going to get me a dog and horse.”
CHAPTER TWO
Tobias was at the edge of the swamp just after dawn the next morning, cutting pond cypress to be used as fence rails. As each thin pole was cut he stacked it on a sled tied behind the oxen.
He heard no sound but the thud of the axe, and was unaware that someone was standing behind him. When he turned and faced the two men and the woman, he was startled. His first reaction was to run for his shotgun propped against a tree, but then he noticed that none of the strangers was armed.
The two men stared at him, as if undecided as to what they should do. The woman moved close behind the men. They were Indians, and all of them looked exhausted. The woman was dressed in a tattered deerskin robe, and the men in clothes that had a thick covering of dirt.
Tobias said cautiously, “My name is Tobias MacIvey, and I have a homestead nearby. I mean you no harm.”
These were the first Seminoles Tobias had seen since coming to Florida although he had heard many tales of the Indian wars. He wondered why they were here now since there were supposed to be no more Indians in this part of the state.
One of the men said, “I am Keith Tiger, and this is Bird Jumper.” He made no mention of the woman’s name. “We also mean no harm. We need rest and food. Do you have food?”
“There’s nothing here,” Tobias responded, becoming less uneasy. “We have hog meat back at the house. We can feed you something if you’ll go back there with me.”
“There is not much time,” Keith Tiger said, acting as spokesman for all of them. “They have horses and dogs, and they will be here soon.”
“Who?” Tobias asked curiously.
The Indian didn’t respond to the question. He said instead, “We do not mean to bring you trouble. We will eat quickly and leave. But we must have food.”
Tobias picked up the shotgun and started leading the oxen into the woods. The three Indians followed in silence. They had gone but a short distance when the faint barking of dogs could be heard. Tobias stopped the oxen and said, “What’s this all about? Who is it that’s coming with those dogs?”
All of the Indians looked frightened. Keith Tiger said, “We killed a calf for food. It had no marking on it, and we thought it to be wild. We were seen by a man on foot, and now riders are coming for us. We have been running since noon yesterday. If they find us with you it might cause you trouble, so we will leave now.”
“No,” Tobias said firmly. “You will eat first. No one will harm you at my place, I’ll see to that. The woods is full of wild cows, and you have as much right to an unmarked calf as anyone.”
The Indians followed Tobias reluctantly as the sound of the dogs grew nearer. Just as they entered the clearing the dogs bounded out of the woods and began circling them, growling.
There were six of them, all curs, part hound and part bulldog. The two oxen bucked away from Tobias and ran for the nearby woods, pulling the loaded sled behind them. Emma and Zech came out the kitchen door, puzzled and frightened by the sight of the circling dogs and Indians.
Tobias shouted, “Go back in the house and bolt the doors! Do it quickly! And don’t come back outside no matter what happens!”
They both went back inside and then peeped out a window to watch the strange happening.
Three men on horses came into the clearing at full gallop, and then reined up just short of the dogs. Two jumped from their horses while the third made a loud whistling sound, causing the dogs to back away. All of the men had muskets attached to their saddles, and all carried cowhide whips.
Tobias started backing away from the dogs. He said loudly, “What is going on here? You’re invading my private property!”
One of the men said, “They stole a calf and butchered it, so we’re going to teach them a lesson about rustling. And besides that, it’s against the law for an Indian to be in Florida now. They’re all criminals and ought to be in Oklahoma. That’s the law.”
“You’ll do nothing to them here!” Tobias responded. “They told me the calf had no markings, and what’s one puny calf to anyone?”
Two of the men suddenly unfurled their whips and started lashing the huddled Indians, making popping sounds as loud as musket fire. Each time the cowhide hit flesh, little plugs of shattered cloth and skin sprayed the air. The Indians doubled up and grunted as the whips slashed back and forth.
Tobias shouted, “Stop! I say stop!”
The two men idled the whips as the third made the whistling sound again, causing the dogs to rush forward and swarm over the Indians, growling viciously with snapping teeth as they covered the two men and the woman. The Indians tried vainly to beat the dogs away with their arms.
Tobias waited until one dog ran outside the flaying circle and then crouched, ready to spring back into the fray. He aimed quickly and fired, sending forth a cloud of gray smoke. The two unmounted horses broke and ran for the woods, and the startled dogs backed away. One of the dogs was blown in half.
The three men stared in disbelief as the long barrel came their way. One said, “What you mean, fellow? That dog was worth as much as a horse!”
“I told you to stop it!” Tobias said, his voice filled with anger. “I told you, and you wouldn’t listen! Now you catch them horses and get away from here, and don’t come back!”
“You taking up for them Indians? They’re criminals! This ain’t the end of this! We’ll be back for sure!”
Tobias pointed the shotgun directly in the man’s face, the barrel almost touching his nose. “You do, and it’ll be the worst mistake you’ll ever make! I’ll be hiding behind a bush, just waiting for you! You better leave right now before I do it anyway!”
The three men backed away sullenly. Tobias continued pointing the gun as they disappeared into the woods in the direction of the horses.
Emma and Zech ran outside, and Emma said, “What in the world was that all about, Tobias? Who were those men?”
“Never mind,” Tobias answered. “Just go inside and cook up some hog for these people. They’re hungry. They ain’t et nothing since noon yesterday. And while you’re doing that I’ll go fetch some swamp cabbage and some poke greens.”
As Tobias started towards the woods with an axe, he turned to Zech and said, “You best go find Tuck and Buck and bring them back to the barn. We probably scared the life outen them.”
***
Later that afternoon Tobias and Zech sat on the ground outside the kitchen, watching as the Indians ate ravenously, even cracking the hog bones with their teeth and sucking out the marrow. They did not stop until nothing was left of meat or greens. Zech was facinated by them and watched each move they made.
Keith Tiger drank the last drop of liquid in the poke bowl and said, “We thank you for this, Tobias MacIvey. We could have gone no further without food. And I know of no other white man who would have risked what you did for an Indian.”
“I’m just sorry we don’t have more to offer. Them men had no right to do what they did, and if they come back after you I’ll make it plenty hot for them.” Then he asked curiously, “If it ain’t asking too much, how come you folks being here? You’re the first Indians I’ve seen around these parts.”
Tiger said, “We have been walking for more than a year now, making our way from Oklahoma, traveling mostly at night. Bird and I were with Billy Bowlegs at the start of the last war, and we went with him to Oklahoma when it ended in eighteen fifty-seven. My wife here, Lillie, went also. We stayed there until one year ago but we did not like it, and we are making our way back to join our people who are hiding out in Pay-Hay-Okee, a land far to the south that is yet unknown to the white man. There are still Seminoles hiding in swamps elsewhere, but most are in Pay-Hay-Okee.”
“Well, I’m sorry I can’t offer food for your journey,” Tobias said, “but we just don’t have much in the way of vittles. I don’t have a dog or a horse and ain’t got money to buy them, so I can’t round up any cows. We’ve been having to make do mostly on coon and greens.”
“What you need is a marshtackie,” Tiger said. “It is a horse left behind by the Spanish soldiers. It is small and runty but very strong and big of heart. It can run all day, and it can take you to places in the swamps where no other horse can go. My people used the marshtackie back in the days before the white men told us we could no longer herd cattle. There are some of them still left in the swamps and woods. Perhaps you can catch one for yourself.”
“I don’t know how I could do it without a dog to help me. But I’ll be on the lookout for one of them. I tried a few times to catch a wild cow with a rope, but ever time I got close enough to throw the rope, that ole cow would just run off a piece and laugh at me.”
“There are ways to catch cows without dogs and horses,” Tiger said. “Maybe someday we can show you. But we must go now. We have a long journey yet ahead of us.”
“Ain’t a bit of use in the world to do that,” Tobias said. “You can stay the night here and rest, and then go in the morning. If you don’t mind sleeping on the floor, you can stay in the kitchen.”
“The rest would be good for us,” Tiger responded, “but we will sleep in the shed. We are not used to a house.”
“You’re plumb welcome to do so. And in the morning, we’ll scrape up something for you to eat, even if it ain’t nothing more than coon stew.”
Keith Tiger said, “We thank you again, Tobias MacIvey. We will not forget you for this.”
***
The next morning, just before dawn, Tobias went out to the shed to awaken the Indians to eat coon stew Emma had prepared for them. There was no one there.
CHAPTER THREE
The wheels creaked loudly as the wagon moved slowly along the old Indian trail that was just wide enough for it to pass. Both sides of the trail were bordered thickly with scrub pine and hickory and giant oaks, whose limbs were entwined with muscadine vines and Spanish moss. Occasionally a palmetto frond blocked the way and Tobias had to duck under it as the wagon passed.
Dawn was just breaking when the wagon left the woods and entered the flat expanse of marsh leading to the west bank of the St. Johns River. Fog lay low over the land, forming a cloud through which Tobias could not see, so he watched the ground ahead of him carefully as he pointed the oxen and wagon in the direction of the settlement.
As the sun rose higher, the fog burned away quickly , exposing huge flights of egrets and herons and wood ibis, winging their way both north and south to favorite feeding grounds.
Tobias could now see a thin spiral of black smoke drifting straight upward from the trading post chimney. This was a good sign, for it meant no rain, and Tobias feared the low-lying river flats when they were muddy or flooded. If the smoke drifted downward, it meant morning rain.
In addition to the trading post, there were three shacks built along the river bank, and all were the homes of mullet fishermen. Tobias guided the oxen to a hitching rail in front of the weathered old building and stopped. The trading post and the shacks were built on pilings ten feet off the ground to protect them from spring floods.
When Tobias climbed the cypress steps and entered, the proprietor, Silas Jenkins, was sitting by a pot-bellied stove. He looked up and said, “Morning, Tobias. It gets chilly on the river in early morning, and a fire feels good.” He was a thin man in his fifties, with skin burned black by the Florida sun, his hair solid white and rumpled.
Tobias said, “It’s always cooler here than in the scrub. Sometimes I wish I’d settled by the river, but here again we don’t have skeeters as bad as you do.”
“That’s a fact for sure. What can I do for you?”
“I’ve got twenty coon skins in the wagon I’d like to trade for supplies.”
Jenkins shook his head negatively and said, “I got bad news, Tobias. Some Reb soldiers with wagons come in here three weeks ago and took everything I had. Flour, sugar, coffee, cornmeal, bacon, salt. Everything. Paid me just enough to cover my cost. I ain’t got one blessed thing left to trade.”
This news frightened Tobias. “Lordy, that is bad, Silas. I’m out of everything. I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“It’s bad on everyone along the river, including me. I ain’t et nothing for three weeks now but mullet. And I won’t have nothing else at all to trade unless a boat comes down from Jacksonville, and that ain’t likely with them Federal troops taking the city one day and then leaving and coming back the next. They done took it now three times. One of the Reb soldiers told me that the Feds took it again about two months ago, and when they pulled out to go fight up around Savannah, they set fire to the city and burned about seven or eight blocks, including the church and the courthouse.”
”How is the war going?” Tobias asked.
“Real bad, they say. The Feds have got every port blockaded, and ain’t hardly nothing getting through from Cuba. Even the Reb soldiers ain’t got uniforms to wear, much less anything to eat. Women are sewing socks and pants and making bandages from anything they can get their hands on. Them soldiers told me that if it wasn’t for the scrawny Florida cattle they wouldn’t have no meat at all or no tallow and hides. Even their salt is coming from St. Andrews Bay over on the Gulf. He said they were making coffee from parched meal and sweet potatoes. And it’s going to get a lot worse before it gets better.”
Tobias felt a deep sinking feeling as Jenkins spoke. “What about powder and shot?” he asked anxiously. “Did they take all that too? There ain’t no way I can make it in the scrub without some more powder and shot.”
“With that I can help you a mite,” Jenkins said, getting up. “I hid some under a plank in the floor. I knowed there would be people around here in deep trouble without it. In even more trouble than the Reb soldiers. They can always surrender if they have to, but there ain’t no way a man can surrender to a bear or a panther or a pack of wolves. I’ll let you have what I can.”
Tobias felt relief as Jenkins removed a box from beneath a loose plank and measured out a sack of lead shot and a sack of black powder. At least he could make more shells for protection and to kill for food when he had to. He said, “I don’t know how to thank you, Silas. I’ll bring in the skins.”
“Just throw them on the porch when you leave. And Tobias, keep a good watch out. Them Feds has got raiding parties out everywhere now. They done hit Palatka and Gainesville, and they’re roaming the countryside. What cattle they can’t steal, they shoot. They’re taking anything that ain’t nailed down, and they’ve burned a lot of homesteads. The Rebs have formed a Cow Cavalry of local men to help fight off the raids and guard the cattle. If they come your way, you best be careful.”
“They ain’t likely to come into the scrub, unless they get a hankering for coon meat. But I’ll keep an eye out, and I rightly thank you for the warning. I’ll be back afore long.”
“Take care,” Jenkins said, sitting again by the stove.
***
On the way back Tobias decided not to tell Emma and Zech just how severe things were. He would say only that the trading post was temporarily sold out of the things they needed. Maybe a supply boat would get through before winter, and there was no need to cause them unnecessary anxiety.
He was also thinking of the news Jenkins gave him of the Federal raiding parties, the blockades, and the burning of Jacksonville. Thus far the war was not real to him. It was something happening elsewhere, but now it was getting closer and becoming very real. The scrub was no longer a sure sanctuary, and he dreaded the thought of what would happen if Federal troops fired the woods. Fire was the most feared killer in scrub land. It could race over the land as quickly as the wind, destroying man and animal before they had any chance of escape.
Before he reached the clearing, he stopped in a low hammock area and allowed the oxen to graze. There was nothing for them to eat on the pine ridge, and since he had no corn or other feed to give them, he had to take them each day to wherever grass could be found.
The sun was setting when he finally unhitched the animals and locked them inside the barn. Layers of red and orange meshed all across the sky and caused the tops of trees to glow a somber yellow. He looked up momentarily as a flight of crows passed over the clearing, cawing loudly, heading for some unknown haven for the night.
