Читать книгу Black Creek - Paul Varnes - Страница 8

We arrived home from the First Seminole War in early May. Though it had been only ten weeks, it seemed like two years. I felt two years older. Ma said I looked just like I did the day Pa and I rode off, except for my clothes being dirty. They were a little worn, too. I had just about worn the seat of my britches out from sitting in a saddle.

As we arrived home we could see that Asa and George had worked hard with the plowing and planting. Some of the things in the fields would need harvesting within two weeks. I had a strange feeling as we rode in. A sort of peaceful feeling settled over me. A sense of responsibility also returned. It seemed to develop as we rode from Sergeant Hunter’s place to ours. All those things I was usually responsible for had been gone from my mind and as we approached our place, they descended like a weight on me.

Though Ma was seven months pregnant, she came, almost running, to meet us. Pa stepped down from his mare and they embraced. After she hugged me, they walked arm in arm toward the horse pen.

I took Pa’s mare’s bridle and said, “Asa, George, and I will put the horses up.”

Asa and George were coming at a full run from the fields. Pa didn’t say anything. He and Ma just walked on in the house with their arm around each other. It was the most public emotion I have ever seen them show for each other. Also, Pa usually insisted that each man tend his own horse. I was happy he didn’t that time.

The other kids stayed out at the horse pen with me. After we put the horses up, I sat my brothers down by the barn and we talked for most of an hour. They were anxious to know everything and I was giving Ma and Pa time alone. I also had some Indian things for each of them: bows and arrows, hatchets, knives, and moccasins. Those, some guns, and some Indian ponies we took and brought home was the sum total of our remuneration for fighting in the war.

After spending the afternoon and part of the night talking, we were up early and back to farming the next morning shortly after daylight. Asa and George had done a good job but they just couldn’t keep it all going. Pa lasted at that for three days. He then saw everything was getting in shape. He also had some other things to tend to and he communicated that at supper the third night.

Pa said, “There’s some property I want to look at. I’ll be leaving tomorrow for two or three days. I want you boys to tend to things while I’m gone.”

It was obvious he had discussed this with Ma because she didn’t have anything to say. Pa then told us all the things he wanted us to do. Things were back to normal.

Over the next couple of months we harvested and stored the corn, fodder, potatoes, beans, and peas. Those things were mostly preserved in their natural state. Other than those Ma was going to cook daily, the peas and beans were allowed to dry on the vine before they were picked for shelling and storing. They could then be stored in containers for extended periods of time. We also planted some late crops: collards, sweet potatoes, pumpkins, and beans.

At that time of year we hunted for any meat we needed instead of killing our own animals. Hog killing was usually done in November, about the same time syrup was made. Shoulders, hams, and sausages were then smoked and left hanging in the smokehouse throughout the winter. Bacon and some other parts of the hog were salted down to preserve them. Also, Ma made bags of hog’s-head cheese and left them hanging in the house after each hog killing. Though the smoked meat lasted throughout the year, we also hunted for fresh meat periodically. Alligators, deer, raccoon, turtles, turkeys, wild hog, bear, and an occasional buffalo were the usual wild game fare. Even though she had at times in the past when food was in short supply, Ma didn’t ordinarily cook opossum or buzzard.

After the crops were gathered, we began mending the fences and the roofs on the buildings. We also worked constantly at clearing new ground for planting, or at least getting the stumps and roots out of the fields we had been planting. It was an ongoing way of life. It seemed it would take a lifetime to get all the roots out of a field. Many times I’ve broken a plow point, and the mule has been jerked almost to her knees, when the plow point caught a root in a field I thought was cleared of them.

During the summer and fall, while we were doing these things, the Indians were on the move. Their homes in west Florida had been destroyed and they had been driven out of that area, so they mostly lived a nomadic life as they sought farmland and home sites in north and east Florida. In relative terms, northeast Florida was becoming crowded as the Red Stick Creeks and Miccosukee, and the blacks living among the Indians, sought new homes there.

Indian raids into Georgia decreased during that time. Oh, there were raids by small bands of Indians, which resulted in some stolen livestock, but nothing on the scale there had been. On the other hand, raids by white Americans into Spanish Florida for the purpose of taking Indian livestock, and gathering up any blacks they found for use as slaves, continued, even increased. Also, the incidence of Americans moving into Florida to take land and establish small communities or individual farms increased.

In late July Ma had a baby girl and named her Nancy after one of our aunts.

In October of 1818, the Spanish Minister, Luis de Onis, and the United States Secretary of State, John Quincy Adams, started negotiations about Florida being taken over by the United States. These negotiations dragged on because both sides had several other things they wanted agreed to at the same time. Also, there was the matter of the land grants the king of Spain had given to his friends just prior to starting the negotiations. The United States didn’t feel these grants should be honored.

Except for one occurrence, our farm was spared from the various small raids going on during that time. In early November, Asa came in from checking his trap line and reported some trouble.

He said, “Pa, some of our woods cows have been rounded up and driven off. From the tracks, it looked like twenty or so cows and three riders.”

Woods cows are cows that are left to run loose in the woods and forage as best they can, as opposed to milk cows, which are kept on pasture, fodder, or hay, and some grain.

Pa asked, “Did you track them enough to determine a direction?”

Asa said, “Yes sir. I thought it was kind of strange because they’re going northeast.”

Pa said, “It’s probably white men. They might be headed for a cattle boat. There are lots of places where they could have a boat waiting. How old were the tracks?”

Asa said, “They looked fresh to me, Pa.”

Asa already had his rifle and he got his musket. Pa and I were busy arming ourselves as we talked.

Pa said, “We’ll have to hurry. If they’re headed for a waiting boat, we might not have more than twenty-four hours to catch them.”

Ma, who had busied herself packing us some food and helping get our bed rolls ready, said, “Isaac, don’t you get my boys hurt over a few woods cows. You take proper care. I’m not saying you shouldn’t go. Lord knows we have to take care of ourselves. But you be careful.”

Turning to George, Pa said, “Get on your pony and get over to the Hunter place, quick. Tell Jacob what’s been said here and tell him we could use some help. Tell him we’re going northeast and he can probably pick up our trail at the north end of Moccasin Swamp. If he hasn’t checked, some of his cattle might be gone, too. You come straight back here to help your Ma.”

We were in the saddle and gone in fifteen minutes—Pa, Asa, and me. We were each leading a second horse. It was the first time on this kind of trip for Asa. At fifteen years old, he was old enough. We had plenty of confidence in Asa.

When we picked up the trail, we put our horses into a trot. It was apparent the thieves were pushing along pretty fast. It was also apparent from the tracks that they had a two- or three-hour head start on us. Since it was almost noon, we had only a little more than six hours to catch them if we were going to do it before dark. We couldn’t track them after dark but they could keep the cattle moving, even if they lost a few head.

As we were riding three abreast in an open stretch of woods, Pa said, “Boys, I don’t have much of a plan in mind. If we spot them ahead of us, we’ll kick our horses and make a run at them. When we get within fifty yards, I’ll shout. Each of you pick a tree to swing down behind. Brace your rifle on the tree and make your shot count. We’ll reload there. We’ll have to play it by ear after that. If they make a fight of it, use your rifle until they’re within musket range.”

When expecting a fight, we always carried short-barrel muskets in a saddle scabbard and our rifles in our hand. At night we reversed that. The musket is more effective for the close work of night fighting. When loaded with pellets it doesn’t have to be aimed as carefully.

It sounded like a good plan to me. All of us could hit a running deer at a hundred yards with our rifles. If we stopped at fifty yards, by the time we dismounted and fired they would still be within a hundred yards, even if they kept moving with the herd.

After twenty minutes we switched to our second horses and continued at a steady trot. We were traveling faster than the thieves were. We were sure they had started their drive sometime during the late morning because there had been no dew on the tracks when we first saw them.

After another twenty minutes passed, in order to give the horses a rest we dismounted and jogged along leading them for ten minutes. We then remounted our original horses and continued to follow the trail at a steady trot. I was thinking Sergeant Hunter wouldn’t have much chance of catching us before we caught up with the cattle. We had at least a mile-and-a-half head-start on him. I was thinking it sure would be good to have him with us when we caught the thieves. Also he had a boy, John, who might be coming along. John was the same age as Asa and was as good a shot as any of us.

Other than stopping to water our horses and get a drink, we followed the same routine for two more hours. It being overcast, I figured we had three more hours until dark started closing in. I didn’t know how long the horses could keep up the pace.

At that point the cattle’s tracks showed that a larger herd and some more riders joined the herd we were following. We didn’t stop to sort out exactly how many there were. The herd size had more than doubled, though.

It was after four when we got within three hundred yards and sighted them.

Pa said, “Let’s go.”

Dropping the lead ropes to our spare horses, we kicked the horses we were riding into a run.

Our horses at a hard run, we were less than two hundred yards from them when one of them looked back and spotted us. It took them a few seconds to decide what to do. Four of them then turned toward us.

When Pa shouted “now,” we were still at eighty yards. By the time we stopped and dismounted we were at sixty yards. The four of them fired at us without effect. It’s mighty hard to hit anything from a moving horse, regardless of how close you are. They were still mounted.

When we propped on trees and fired, two of them went down. The other two wheeled their horses and rode toward where their friends were still driving the herd northeast. Since it takes nearly half a minute to reload, they were well out of range by the time we could use our rifles again.

When we finished reloading, Pa said, “Let’s go.”

As we remounted to continue the chase, I heard running horses behind me and wheeled my horse to face that danger. It was Mr. Hunter and John coming at a dead run. By the time I got my horse turned and regained speed, they had come on line beside me.

Pa slowed a little to let us catch up and then we continued the chase. As we closed on the herd that time, leaving the herd to us, the thieves peeled off to one side and the other and ran for it. I guess when the Hunters joined us, there were just too many of us for their liking. We didn’t get close enough to shoot again.

After we had the herd under control and turned, Pa said to Mr. Hunter, “There’s not any use in following them. We got the cattle back and they probably won’t be back to our place.”

Jacob Hunter said, “Nope. I don’t expect they will.”

Most of the cattle that had joined the ones we were following belonged to the Hunters.

Our horses were too spent to continue, so we gathered up the horses we had let go when the fight started, built a brush-and-pole pen, and held the herd there all night. The next morning we found one of the two men we had shot and buried him. Pa said words over him while we all had out hats off. Pa always said words over those we had to bury regardless of who they were. The other one we shot had managed to get up and leave. He had to be walking, or dead someplace, because we found and caught the two horses they were riding.

While the burying was being done, Pa said, “I. J., you take a couple of extra horses to switch off on and ride ahead to let your ma know we’re okay. Tell her we might be after dark getting there. We need to take it easy on these horses. Also, send George to tell Mrs. Hunter.”

Riding a lot slower than we had the day before, I still arrived home an hour before dark. Ma was momentarily upset because of me riding in alone. I could see the concern on her face when she asked and the relief on her face when I told her why I had been sent ahead. After sending George to tell Mrs. Hunter, I hurried to get the chores done before dark. Pa and Asa rode in later that night. They had turned the herd loose between our house and the Hunters.’ Once back in their home territory, the cattle wouldn’t wander far.