Chapter III

The Paracoussi, on parting with Laudonniere, renewed his assurances of good will, and repeated the promises which had been given to ensure his deliverance from captivity. The engagement required that a certain number of days should be allowed him, in which to gather supplies in sufficient quantity to discharge his ransom. Laudonniere left his lieutenants, Ottigny and D’Erlach, with the two hostages, in one of the barks, to receive the provisions which Utina was to furnish, while he himself returned to La Caroline. The lieutenants moored their vessel within a little creek which emptied into the May, and adopted all necessary precautions against savage artifice. The vigilance of Alphonse D’Erlach, in particular, was sleepless. He knew, more certainly than his superior, the necessities and dangers of the French, and the subtlety of the Indians. By day and night they lurked in the contiguous thickets, watchful of every opportunity for assault. An arquebuse presented in wantonness against the ledge which skirted the river, would frequently expel a group of shrieking warriors, well armed and covered with the war paint; and, with the dawn of morning, the first thing to salute the eyes of our Frenchmen would be long strings of arrows, planted in the earth, their barbs of flint turned upwards, from which long hairs shreds from heads which had been shorn for war, were to be seen waving in the wind. These were signs, too well understood by previous experience, of a threatened and sleepless hostility.

It was soon found that the Paracoussi either could not or would not comply with his engagements. He sent a small supply of grain to the lieutenant, but said that more could not be provided except by a surrender of the hostages. The Frenchmen were required to bring the captives to the village, when and where they should be furnished with the full amount of the promised ransom. Satisfied that all this was mere pretence, indicating purposes of treachery, the Frenchmen were yet too much straitened by want to forego any enterprise which promised them provisions. They, accordingly, set forth for the place appointed, in two separate bodies, marching so that they might support each other promptly, under the several leads of D’Erlach and Ottigny. The former held the advance. The village of Utina was six French leagues from the river where they left their barque, and the route which they were compelled to pursue was such as exposed them frequently to the perils of ambuscade. But so vigilant was their watch, so ready were they with matches lighted, and so close was the custody in which they kept their hostages, that the Indians, whom they beheld constantly flitting through the thickets, dared never make any attempt upon them. They reached the village in safety, and immediately proceeded to the dwelling-house of Olata Utina, raised, as before described, upon an artificial eminence. Here they found assembled all the chiefs of the nation; but the Paracoussi was not among them. He kept aloof, and was not to be seen at present by the Frenchmen. His chiefs received their visitors with smiles and great professions; but, as their own proverb recites, when the enemy smiles your scalp is in danger. They pointed to great sacks of mil and beans which had already been accumulated, and still they showed the Frenchmen where hourly came other of their subjects adding still more to the pile.

“But wherefore,” they demanded, “wherefore come our white brethren, with the fire burning in their harquebuses? See they not that it causes our women to be afraid, and our children to tremble in their terror. Let our brethren put out this fire, which makes them dread to come nigh with their peace-offerings, and know us for a friend, under whose tongue there is no serpent.”

To this D’Erlach replied—“Our red brothers do themselves wrong. They do not fear the fire in our harquebuses. They know not its danger. The Frenchmen have always forborne to show them the power that might make them afraid. But this power is employed only against our enemies. Let the chiefs of the people of the Paracoussi Utina show themselves friends, and the thunder which we carry shall only send its fearful bolts among the foes of Utina, the people of Potanou, and the warriors of the great mountain of Apalatchy.”

“If we are thus friends of the Frenchmen, why do they keep our beloved men in bondage? Are these the ornaments proper to a warrior and a great chief among his people?”

They pointed as they spoke to the fetters which embraced the legs and arms of the hostages, who sat in one corner of the council-house.

“Our red brothers have but to speak, and these chains fall from the limbs of their well beloved chiefs.”

“Heh!—We speak!—Let them fall!”

“Speak to your people that these piles be complete,” pointing to the grain.

“They have heard. See you not they come?”

“But very slowly;—and hearken to us now, brothers of the red-men, while we ask,—do the skies that pavilion the territories of the Paracoussi Utina rain down such things as these.”

Here D’Erlach showed them a bunch of the arrows which they had found planted by the wayside as they came. The thin lips of the savages parted into slight smiles as they beheld them.

“These grow not by nature,” continued D’Erlach

The chiefs were silent. The youth proceeded:

“Brothers, we are calm;—we are not angry, though we well know what these arrows mean. We are patient, for we know our own strength. The Paracoussi has promised us supplies of grain, and hither we have come. Four days shall we remain in waiting for it. Till that time, these well-beloved men shall remain in our keeping. When we receive the supplies which have been promised us, they shall be yours. We have spoken.”

Thus ended the first conference. That night the French lieutenants found their way to the presence of the Paracoussi. He was kept concealed in a small wigwam, deeply embowered in the woods, but in near and convenient neighborhood to the village. He himself had sent for them, and one of his sons had shown the way. They found the old monarch still maintaining the state of a prince, but he was evidently humbled. His captivity had lessened his authority; and his anxiety to comply with the engagements made with the French had in some degree impaired his influence over his people. They had resolved to destroy the pale-faces, as insolent invaders of their territory, consumers of its substance and enemies of its peace. It was this hostility and this determination that had interposed all the obstacles in the way of procuring the supplies promised.

“They resist me, their Paracoussi,” said Utina bitterly, “and have resolved on fighting with you! They will wage war against you to the last. See you not the planted arrows that marked your pathway to my village? These arrows are planted from the territories of Utina, by every pathway, to the very gates of La Caroline. They will meet your eyes wherever you shall return to the fortress. They mean nothing less than war, and such warfare as admits of no peace. Go you, therefore, go you with all speed to your vessels, and make what haste you can to the garrison. The woods swarm with my warriors, and they no longer heed my voice. They will hunt you to your vessel. They mean to throw trees athwart the creek so that her escape may be cut off, while they do you to death with their arrows, and I cannot be there to say to my people—‘stay your shafts, these be our friends and allies.’ They no longer hearken to my voice. I am a Paracoussi without subjects, a ruler without obedience,—a shadow, where I only used to be the substance.”

The despondency of the king was without hypocrisy. It sensibly impressed our Frenchmen. They felt that he spoke the truth. He was then, in fact, excluded from the house of council, as incurring the suspicion of the red-men as fatally friendly to the whites. While they still conversed, they were alarmed by violent shrieks, as of one in mortal terror.

“That scream issues from a French throat!” exclaimed D’Erlach, as he rushed forth. He was followed by Lieutenant Ottigny and another. The Paracoussi never left his seat. The screams guided them into a neighboring thicket, into which they hurried, arriving there not a moment too soon. A Frenchman struggled in the grasp of five stalwart savages, who had him down and were preparing to cut his throat. He had been beguiled from the place which had been assigned him as a watch, and was about to pay the penalty of his folly with his life. In an instant the gallant Alphonse D’Erlach had sprung among them, his sword passing clear through the back of the most prominent in the group of assailants. His body, falling upon that of the captive, prevented the blows which the rest were showering upon him. They started in sudden terror at this interruption. Their own and the clamors of the Frenchman had kept them from all knowledge of the approaching rescue. In an instant they were gone. They waited for no second stroke from a weapon whose first address was so sharp and sudden. They left their captive, bruised and groaning, but without serious injury to life or limb.

The warnings and assurances of the Paracoussi were sufficiently enforced by this instance of the hostility of the red-men. But the necessity of securing all the supplies they might possibly procure from the natives, either through their own artifices or because of the apprehension for their chiefs, caused our Frenchmen to linger at the village of Utina. They were determined to wait the full period of four days which they had assigned themselves. In this period they saw the Paracoussi more than once. At each interview his admonitions were delivered with increased solemnity. They found his chiefs less and less accommodating at every interview. The piles of grain at the council-house increased slowly. Occasionally an Indian might be seen to enter and cast the contents of his little basket among the rest. The Frenchmen endeavored to persuade the chiefs to furnish men to carry the grain to their vessel, but this was flatly denied. Resolved, finally, to depart, each soldier was required to load himself with a sack as well filled as it was consistent with his strength to bear. This was slung across his shoulder, and, in this way, burdened with food for other mouths as well as their own, and carrying their matchlocks besides, the Frenchmen prepared to depart, on the morning of the 27th July, 1565, from the village of Utina to the bark which they had left. It was a memorable day for our adventurers. In groups, scornfully smiling as they beheld the soldiers staggering beneath their burdens, the chiefs assembled to see them depart from the village. Alphonse D’Erlach beheld the malignant triumph which sparkled in their eyes.

“We shall not be suffered to reach the bark in quiet;” was his remark to Ottigny. “Let me have the advance, Monsieur, if you please; I have dealt with the dogs before.”

To this Ottigny consented; and leading one of the divisions

“Here,” said he to Ottigny, “Here, at the very opening of the path, our trouble is likely to begin. Let your men be prepared with matches lighted, and see that your fire is delivered only in squads, so that, at no time, shall all of your pieces be entirely empty.”

Ottigny prepared to follow this counsel. His men were all apprised of what they had to expect; and were told, at the first sign of danger, to cast down their corn bags, and betake themselves to their weapons wholly. The grain might be lost—probably would be—but better this, than, in a vain endeavor to preserve it, lose life and grain together. Thus prepared, D’Erlach began the march. He was followed, at a short interval, by Ottigny, with the rest of the detachment; a small force of eight arquebusiers excepted, who, under charge of a sergeant, were sent to the left of the thicket which bounded the avenue on one hand, with instructions to scour the woods in that quarter, yet without passing beyond reach of help from the main body.

All fell out as had been anticipated. D’Erlach was encountered as he emerged from the avenue, by a force of three hundred Indians. They poured in a cloud of arrows, but fortunately at such a distance as to do little mischief. With the first assault the Frenchmen dispossessed themselves of their burdens, and prepared themselves for fight. The savages came on more boldly, throwing in fresh flights of arrows as they pushed forward, and rending the forests with their cries. D’Erlach preserved all his steadiness and coolness. He saw that the arrows were yet comparatively ineffectual.

“Do not answer them yet, my good fellows,” he cried, “but stoop ye, every man, and break the arrows, as many as ye can, that fall about ye.”

He had seen that the savages, having delivered a few fires, were wont to rush forward and gather up the spent shafts, which, thus recovered, afforded them an inexhaustible armory, upon which it is their custom to rely. When his assailants beheld how his men were engaged, they rushed forward with loud shouts of fury, and delivering another storm of darts, they made demonstrations of a desire for close conflict, with their stone hatchets and macanas. At this show, D’Erlach spoke to his men in subdued accents.

“Make ye still as if ye would stoop for the fallen arrows, ye of the first rank; but blow ye your matches even as ye do so, and falling upon your knees deliver then your fire; while the second rank will cover you as ye do so, and while ye charge anew your pieces.”

The command was obeyed with coolness; and, as the Indians darted forward, coming in close packed squadrons into the gorge of the avenue, the soldiers delivered their fire with great precision. Dreadful was the howl which followed it, for more than thirteen of the savages had fallen, mortally hurt, and two of their chief warriors had been made to bite the dust. Seizing the bodies of their slain and wounded comrades, the survivors immediately hurried into cover, and D’Erlach at once pushed forward with his command. But he had not advanced more than four hundred paces, when the assault was renewed, the air suddenly being darkened with the flight of bearded shafts, while the forest rang with the yells of savage fury. They were still too far for serious mischief, and were besides covered with the woods; so, giving the assailants little heed, except to observe that they came not too nigh, or too suddenly upon him, D’Erlach continued to push forward, doing as he had done before with the hostile arrows whenever they lay in the pathway. But the courage of the red-men increased as they warmed in the struggle, and they grew bolder because of the very forbearance of the Frenchmen. Besides, their forces had been increased by other bodies, each approaching in turn to the assault, so as to keep their enemies constantly busy. In parties of two or three hundred, they darted from their several ambushes, and having discharged their arrows, and met with repulse, retired rapidly to other favorite places of concealment to renew the conflict as it continued to advance. By this time, the whole body of the Frenchmen had become engaged in the fight. The force under Ottigny, following the example of that led by D’Erlach, had succeeded in pressing forward, though not without loss, while making great havoc with the red-men. These people fought, never men more bravely; and, but for the happy thought, that of destroying their arrows as fast as they fell, it is probable that the detachment had never reached La Caroline. They hovered thus about the march of the Frenchmen all the day, encouraging each other with shouts of vengeance and delight, and sending shaft upon shaft, with an aim, which, had they not been too greatly sensible of the danger of the arquebuse, to come sufficiently nigh, would have been always fatal. Yet well did the savage succeed, so long as they remained unintoxicated by their rage, in dodging the aim of the weapon. As Laudonniere writes—“All the while they had their eye and foot so quicke and readie, that as soone as ever they saw the harquebuse raised to the cheeke, so soon were they on the ground, and eftsoone to answer with their bowes, and to flie their way, if by chance they perceived that we were about to take them.”

This conflict lasted from nine o’clock in the morning until night. It only ceased when the darkness separated the combatants. Even then, but for the deficiency of their arrows, they probably would not have withdrawn from the field. It was late in the night when the Frenchmen reached their boats, weary and exhausted, their grain wrested from them, their hostages rescued, and twenty-four of their number killed and wounded. The Floridians had shown themselves warriors of equal spirit and capacity. The determined exclusion of their Paracoussi from counsels which it was feared that he would dishonor, their manly resistance to the white invaders, their scornful ridicule of their necessities, their proud defiance of their power, and the fierce and unrelenting hostility with which they had chased their adversaries, remind us irresistibly of the degradation of Montezuma by his subjects, their prolonged warfare with the Spaniards, their sleepless hostility, and that bloody struggle which first drove them over the causeways of Tenochtitlan. The inferior state and wealth of the Paracoussi, Olata Ouvae Utina, constitutes no such sufficient element of difference, as to lessen the force of the parallel between himself and people, and those of the Atzec sovereign.