10. XI.
THE CHIEFS OF THE LILY AND THE TOTEM EMBRACE AND
PART.
“San Augustine!”
Such were the words spoken to Gourgues by Holata Cara at the
close of this terrible scene of vengeance, and his spear was at once
turned in the direction of the remaining Spanish fortress. Gourgues
readily understood the suggestion, but he shook his head regretfully—
“I am too feeble! We have not the force necessary to such
an effort!”
The red chief made no reply in words, but he turned away and
waved his spear over the circuit which was covered by the thousand
savages who had collected to the conflict, even as the birds
of prey gather to the field of battle.
But Gourgues again shook his head. He had no faith in the alliance
with the red-men. He knew their caprice of character,
their instability of purpose, and the sudden fluctuations of their
moods, which readily discovered the enemy of the morrow in the
friend of to-day. Besides, his contemplated task was ended. He
had achieved the terrible work of vengeance which he had proposed
to himself and followers, and his preparations did not extend to
any longer delay in the country. He had neither means nor provisions.
He collected the tribes around him. All the kings and princes
of the Floridian gathered at his summons, on the banks of the Tacatacorou,
or Seine, where he had left his vessels, some fifteen
leagues from La Caroline. Thither he marched by land in battle
array, having sent all his captured munitions and arms with his
artillerists by sea, in the patache.
The red-men hailed him with songs and dances, as the Israelites
hailed Saul and David returning with the spoils of the Philistines.
“Now let me die,” cried one old woman, “now that I behold
the Spaniards driven out, and the Frenchmen once more in the
country.”
Gourgues quieted them with promises. It may be that he really
hoped that his sovereign would sanction his enterprise, and avail
himself of what had been done to establish a French colony again
in Florida; and he promised the Floridians that in twelve months
they should again behold his vessels.
The moment arrived for the embarkation, but where was Holata
Cara? The Frenchman inquired after him in vain. Satouriova
only replied to his earnest inquiries,—
“Holata Cara is a great chief of the Apalachian! He hath
gone among his people.”
A curious smile lurked upon the lips of the Paracoussi as he
made this answer; but the inquiries of Gourgues could extract
nothing from him further.
They embraced—our chevalier and his Indian allies—and the
Frenchmen embarked, weighed anchor, and, with favoring winds,
were shortly out of sight. Even as they stretched away for the
east, the eyes of Holata Cara watched their departure from a distant
headland where he stood embowered among the trees. The
graceful figure of an Indian princess stood beside his own, one
hand shading her eyes, and the other resting on his shoulder. At
length he turned from gazing on the dusky sea.
“They are gone!” she exclaimed.
“Gone!” he answered, in her own dialect. “Gone! Let us
depart also!” And thus speaking, they joined their tawny followers
who awaited them in the neighboring thicket, within the
shadows of which they soon disappeared from sight.
