Major Bailey said, “You were there and saw the lay of the land. How would you suggest we handle this?”
Pa said, “It’s tough. Except for posting guards, whoever’s in charge there knows what he’s doing. It’s a good thing we’ve got a hundred men. Our best bet might be to get there before light and get in close with most of our men on foot. We should also have a dozen mounted men work their way to the south of the herd. Their job will be to stampede the horses and cattle. The boy,” he pointed at me, “can lead that bunch. He knows the layout of the place. We can also work six men in close on foot and try to take out the herd riders at the first shooting. Those six can then help tear down the stick-and-rope corral holding the horses. If we start shooting and stampede the horses and cattle to the west, I think the Indians will try to follow the herd and turn them. Or, when they see we have them out-gunned, they might make a break to the south. With that in mind, we could send thirty men on foot with the twelve riders. They could set up behind trees and take the Seminoles on if some of them go that way. We would also set up with thirty-five men on the west side. That would leave a dozen to approach from the north on horseback and start the thing. I don’t think the Indians would go north and overrun those twelve, especially if those twelve open up as soon as the herd riders are fired on.”
I was so proud of Pa that my heart was all up in my throat. He didn’t usually say many words but he always said lots when he talked. I was also proud he would name me to lead the charge at the herd.
The major said, “That’s how we’ll do it.” Looking at me he said, “Boy, when you get the herd away from the camp, turn it north and keep it running. Don’t slow down until you hit the river. And don’t stop until you’re on the other side of the river. Stop the herd there and defend the river bank if necessary.”
Turning to Sergeant Hunter, the major continued, “You and your men all have mounts. You go with the boy.”
Major Bailey then made the other assignments. He didn’t have to explain much, all of the corporals, sergeants, and lieutenants were gathered around watching Pa all the time and listening.
Pa and I then threw our blanket over us to keep the mosquitoes off and slept for four hours. We were under way by three A.M. As we traveled, I realized I could have gone alone without getting lost that time. It must have been the trip there and back with Pa, and traveling at night with a sliver of moon, that made the difference in my being able to orient myself. We did some night hunting at home, of course, but it was always in an area I knew. This was different. Still, I knew I would never be lost in these woods again. Learning to use the moon and stars, I might never be lost again, anywhere. Getting over the snakes, gators, and other creatures of the night was another thing entirely. It felt a lot safer at night while riding a horse.
As we traveled, the realization came to me that nothing had been said about the slaves the Indians had stolen. There were at least a dozen. If the Seminoles had guns for them, we could be facing forty or forty-five guns. Seminoles were known to pamper their slaves, so they might have guns. Usually not concerned with commerce, the Indians only required their slaves to plant and gather enough to eat. After a period of time, the Indians’ slaves would then build their own houses and plant their own farms near the Indians. When the slaves gathered their crop, or killed some food, they would carry a portion to their Indian master. Thus, the slaves actually became sharecroppers. The Indians also armed their slaves and sent them hunting. The slaves then fought on the Seminoles’ side when there was a conflict. Some Seminoles also took slaves as a mate. Theirs was a relaxed, even leisurely, life. Not many slaves ever tried to escape from the Indians.
It was about that time that Pa spoke to me. “Are you thinking about the fight, Boy?”
“No, sir. I was thinking about the slaves with the Indians.”
“You keep your mind on the fight. You can get yourself or someone else killed by letting your mind wander.”
“Yes, sir.”
It wasn’t something Pa had to tell me again, ever.
By a quarter past four, Pa and the men on the west and north sides of the Indian camp were sneaking up on it. The eleven riders and thirty men on foot with me were making a big circle to the west in order to come up on the south side of the herd. Under the protection of four men, the balance of the horses were left a half-mile north of the Indian camp.
By five, we twelve riders were in position two hundred yards south of the horse herd. The thirty men on foot with us slipped to within sixty yards of the Indian’s cattle herd. We held the horses a couple of hundred yards away from their horse pen so ours wouldn’t whinny at the Indian’s horses. I circulated among the men and explained exactly where the Indian’s cattle and horse herd was, and assigned six men to start the cattle running. The other six of us were to get the horses out of their temporary corral and get them to running after the cattle.
When it was light enough to see individual pine straws against the clear sky, we mounted and walked our horses toward where the Indian’s horses and cattle were. It was still too dark to see the cattle, horses, or their Indian guards at that distance. We could see some movement around the campfire where some cooking was being done. I was hoping those assigned to take out the herd guards would do most of that job. If they didn’t, it would fall to us to finish.
We were still a hundred yards from the herds when the first shooting started. I later learned it was the Indian nightriders being shot at and returning fire. In a line of twelve abreast, we kicked our horses into a run and within seconds passed through our line of thirty men who had taken positions behind trees and brush and were firing at targets of opportunity. Within ten more seconds, the designated six men had the cattle herd stampeding northwest. The other six of us were tearing down the temporary corral and getting the horses to running, and getting shot at some.
It seemed that mounted Indians were everywhere. Each Indian must have been sleeping with a pony by his side. The Indians’ musket fire was mostly ineffective. Some of them were not even shooting. They probably hadn’t had enough time to check the priming in the flash-pan of their weapons. With gunfire all around us we finally got the horses out of the pen and running. After the rope and stick fence was down, my mare was almost at a full run as I swung aboard. In a hail of gunfire we passed through the positions of our force on the west side of the Indians’ camp. We soon got the horse herd turned north behind the cattle.
Within four minutes we were a mile from the Indian camp. The sound of gunfire was thinning some and growing dim. It was a wild ride but we were at the river in fifteen minutes. There, the herd slowed as they crossed. We stopped them a quarter of a mile past the river.
Riding up to Sergeant Hunter, I said, “Sergeant, the major didn’t say, but you best take seven men and defend the river crossing against pursuit. I’ll take the other three men and hold the herd here. It’ll be easy. They’re about tuckered out.”
Without responding, the sergeant called out the names of the men to stay with me. He then left for the river. That’s how we were situated when Pa and the main force arrived just before noon and set up camp there. They had already buried one of ours and we had a couple of wounded to care for.
Though everyone was talking about it, when things had settled some and we were alone, I said to Pa, “Tell me about the fight.”
He said, “Not much to tell. You boys swooped in on your horses yelling and like to have scared all the Indians to death. There wasn’t much for the rest of us to do.”
Then he smiled and said, “They came after you and the horses and ran straight into thirty-five guns. They then turned south and ran into the thirty there. We got hurt