Our exposed limbs became red and bloody from the palmetto leaves as Blue led us along a small game trail more suitable for rabbits than men. Soon we could hear activity and see the flames of a fire high above the trees. I had heard about Indian ritual and suspected this was a pre-war celebration. He led us close enough to see the clearing through the brush, and we squatted down to wait for an opportunity to present itself. I watched the men ready themselves for battle and assumed that they had trackers, and knew of Osceola’s presence and aims.
Blue came beside me, whispered in my ear that he would return shortly, then silently moved away. I studied the clearing looking for any sign of Rory while he scouted the area. From where we hid, I could see most of the open area and started to worry, as there was no sign of her. My anxiety increased, thinking they may have moved her, or worse. I could do nothing but worry as I waited. As I reached my deepest feeling of despair and hopelessness, Blue startled me as he returned.
“The girl is held in that hut,” he said in a low voice, pointing.
I followed his extended finger and noticed two men guarding the entrance to one of the thatched huts. The buildings were all identical, spaced around the clearing, their structures constructed from tree limbs, and the walls and roofs covered with woven palm leaves. Swept dirt paths connected the buildings with each other and the clearing with the fire in the center.
I worked through several scenarios to achieve our goals. “We need to start a fire away from her hut and draw the guards away,” I whispered.
“Is true. I will do that while you take another man and rescue your woman. We will meet at the boats.” He tapped Lucy on the shoulder, and they moved silently away. In this phase of the operation, he was clearly in charge.
I watched him go and moved to Syd. “He is going to create a diversion. They are holding Rory in that hut.” I pointed to the guarded house. “Follow me,” I ordered, and started pushing aside the razor-sharp palm fronds. As we made our way through the brush, I could only hope that Blue wouldn’t start the fire before we reached the hut.
It took twice as long as I thought to arrive behind the structure, and I was again astounded at Blue’s instincts, as I saw a hut across the way start to smolder. Although it had rained hard the other night, the days this time of year were mostly dry, and the thatch caught in a whoosh. All eyes turned to the fire, and then everyone in the village ran to extinguish the flames before they spread to the adjacent huts. We were behind the building and had to act quickly. Not knowing if the guards remained in front or had gone to fight the fire, I ordered Syd to cover me with the rifle while I withdrew my cutlass and hacked at the back wall of the structure. The thatch resisted my efforts, and I was soon breathing hard, partly from the exertion, but also from the fear of failure.
My plan to extract her from the hut from behind faltered, and I knew we would have to make a frontal assault. With my cutlass extended, I slid around the side wall to see if the guards were present and steeled myself for a close-quarters fight, something I was not comfortable with. The entry was unguarded, and I chanced a glance at the fire that had now spread to two other huts. Every man, woman, and child appeared to be fighting it. I hurried to the entrance, pushed aside the curtain with the edge of my sword, and entered the hut.
The interior was dark, but I sensed more than one body. I shut my eyes for a second to try and acclimate to the dim light. When I opened them, I saw a large figure lunge toward me. The inside of the hut was too small to swing the sword, so I did the only thing I was able. With my body braced, I extended the cutlass towards the figure and waited for contact. He must not have seen the sword, and I felt the impact and took his entire weight as he impaled himself and fell on top of me. Blood spurted as I released the sword handle and slid out from underneath his bulk. I looked around wildly, trying to see if there was another threat, but felt a hand on my shoulder and saw Rory in front of me. She wiped tears from her face and adjusted her clothing.
I stood staring at her, frozen for a moment, until she spoke.
“Hurry. If you’re here to rescue me, we better get on with it.”
I gathered my wits and pulled the cutlass from the prone man. We looked at each other, and I nodded as she exited the hut. The fire still occupied the Indians, but I feared they would soon have it under control. “Wait here,” I said, as I ran toward the fire in the center of the clearing. If I could set fire to her hut, they might not find the dead man right away and assume she was burned alive. It would at least buy us some time. I reached the fire and grabbed a small log that I carried back to the hut and held to the walls. It caught, and I tossed the torch inside, grabbed Rory’s hand, and took off through the brush. I could only hope that Red and Swift had done their part.
21
We stumbled through the brush in the dark, blindly following Blue to the small beach where we had left the canoes. Slashed and bloody from the palmettos, we reached the boats, but Red and Swift were not there.
“Where are they?” I asked Rhames, who sat unmoved by the cypress stump where we had left him.
“Don’t know,” he grimaced.
Lucy went toward him and checked his wound, while Syd and I pulled the canoes from the brush and onto the shore. I looked up and, seeing the small outline of Blue against the shoreline, grabbed two rifles and took off after him after giving a stern warning to Syd to guard the women and Rhames. Confident we were not followed from the village, I caught up to Blue. He was working slowly around a bend in the river as if he had heard something, but it was difficult to see anything ahead of us, our night vision dulled by the bright flames of the fire.
He halted, and I felt a hand on my arm. I stood next to him, using all my powers of observation, but I could not see or hear what disturbed him. We stood in the calf-deep water waiting for some unknown danger, and I tried to hand him a rifle, which he refused. With one long gun slung over my shoulder, I readied the other and prepared myself. I heard the boat before I saw it and looked at the tracker, who nodded. Then the bow of the first boat emerged from around the corner, and I saw Red and Swift, each standing in a canoe poling frantically toward us.
I was about to call out to them when Blue squeezed my arm and pulled me out of sight. The two canoes passed, and I saw the cause for his concern. I heard a shot and a boat appeared. Blue caught my attention as I was about to fire and pushed the barrel of the rifle down. He had a long tube in his hand that he brought to his mouth and inhaled, his cheeks filling with more air than they looked like they could hold, and released his breath. A second later I heard a grunt, and the man with the gun fell into the water. The man poling looked around, but his eyes, also blinded by the light of the fires, didn’t see us and passed by.
Suddenly two more canoes appeared, and Blue fired two more projectiles, hitting both helmsmen. The three unguided canoes started drifting downriver, back toward the village. As soon as they were back around the bend and out of sight, Blue tapped me again, and we hurried to the clearing. The Indians would certainly regroup and follow.
We reached the clearing, where we each grabbed a canoe, pulled it into the water, and waited for Red and Swift as they pushed their boats to the bank. There was no need to exchange words; we all knew we had to move. I glanced over at Lucy and Rory, who were bent over Rhames, distressed looks on their faces. As I approached, I saw the wound was still bound, but a slimy green fluid penetrated the cloth and oozed onto his stomach.