"Hoitle-mattee's ears are as open as the commissioner's mouth," was the sneering rejoinder.

"I depose Hoitle-mattee from the chieftainship of his clan. The Great Father will no longer recognise him as chief of the Seminoles."

"Ha, ha, ha!" came the scornful laugh in reply. "Indeed--indeed! And tell me," he asked, still continuing to laugh, and treating with derision the solemn enunciation of the commissioner, "of whom am I to be chief, General Thompson."

"I have p.r.o.nounced," said the agent, evidently confused and nettled by the ironical manner of the Indian; "you are no more a chief--we will not acknowledge you as one."

"But my people?--what of them?" asked the other in a fine tone of irony; "have they nothing to say in this matter?"

"Your people will act with reason. They will listen to their Great Father's advice. They will no longer obey a leader who has acted without faith."

"You say truly, agent," replied the chief, now speaking seriously. "My people will act with reason, but they will also act with patriotism and fidelity. Do not flatter yourself on the potency of our Great Father's advice. If it be given as a father's counsel, they will listen to it; if not, they will shut their ears against it. As to your disposal of myself, I only laugh at the absurdity of the act. I treat both act and agent with scorn. I have no dread of your power. I have no fear of the loyalty of my people. Sow dissension among them as you please; you have been successful elsewhere in making traitors,"--here the speaker glared towards Omatla and his warriors--"but I disregard your machinations.

There is not a man in my tribe that will turn his back upon Hoitle-mattee--not one."

The orator ceased speaking, and, folding his arms, fell back into an att.i.tude of silent defiance. He saw that the commissioner had done with him, for the latter was now appealing to Abram for his signature.

The black's first answer was a decided negative--simply "No." When urged to repeat his refusal, he added:

"No--by Jovah! I nebber sign the d.a.m.ned paper--nebber. Dat's enuf-- aint it, Bossy Thompson?"

Of course, this put an end to the appeal, and Abram was "scratched" from the list of chiefs.

Arpiucki followed next, and "Cloud" and the "Alligator," and then the dwarf Poshalla. All these refused their signatures, and were in turn formally deposed from their dignities. So, likewise, were Holata Mico and others who were absent.

Most of the chiefs only laughed as they listened to the wholesale cashiering. It was ludicrous enough to hear this puny office holder of an hour p.r.o.nounce edicts with all the easy freedom of an emperor! [Note 1.]

Poshala, the last who had been disgraced, laughed like the others; but the dwarf had a bitter tongue, and could not refrain from a rejoinder.

"Tell the fat agent," cried he to the interpreter--"tell him that I shall be chief of the Seminoles when the rank weeds are growing over his great carca.s.s--ha, ha!"

The rough speech was not carried to the ears of the commissioner. He did not even hear the scornful cachinnation that followed it, for his attention was now entirely occupied with one individual--the youngest of the chiefs--the last in the line--Osceola.

Note 1. The United States government afterwards disapproved of this absurd dethronement of the chiefs; but there is no doubt that Thompson acted under secret instructions from the President.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

THE SIGNATURE OF OSCEOLA.

Up to this moment the young chief had scarcely spoken; only when Charles Omatla took hold of the pen he had hissed out the word traitor.

He had not remained all the time in the same att.i.tude, neither had his countenance shown him indifferent to what was pa.s.sing. There was no constraint either in his gestures or looks--no air of affected stoicism--for this was not his character. He had laughed at the wit of Jumper, and applauded the patriotism of Abram and the others, as heartily as he had frowned disapproval of the conduct of the traitors.

It was now his turn to declare himself, and he stood, with modest mien, in the expectation of being asked. All the others had been appealed to by name--for the names of all were well-known to the agent and his interpreters.

I need hardly state that at this crisis silence was on tiptoe.

Throughout the ranks of the soldiery--throughout the crowd of warriors-- everywhere--there was a moment of breathless expectancy, as if every individual upon the ground was imbued with the presentiment of a scene.

For my part I felt satisfied that an explosion was about to take place; and, like the rest, I stood spell-bound with expectation.

The commissioner broke the silence with the words:

"At last we have come to you, _Powell_. Before proceeding further, let me ask--Are you acknowledged as a _chief_?"

There was insult in the tone, the manner, the words. It was direct and intended, as the countenance of the speaker clearly showed. There was malice in his eye--malice mingled with the confidence of prospective triumph.

The interrogation was irrelevant, superfluous. Thompson knew well that Powell was a chief--a sub-chief, it is true, but still a chief--a war-chief of the Redsticks, the most warlike tribe of the nation. The question was put for mere provocation. The agent tempted an outburst of that temper that all knew to be none of the gentlest.

Strange to say, the insult failed in its effect, or it seemed so. They who expected an angry answer were doomed to disappointment. Osceola made no reply. Only a peculiar smile was observed upon his features.

It was not of anger, nor yet of scorn: it was rather a smile of silent, lordly contempt--the look which a gentleman would bestow upon a blackguard who is abusing him. Those who witnessed it were left under the impression that the young chief regarded his insulter as beneath the dignity of a reply, and the insult too gross, as it really was, to be answered. Such impression had I, in common with others around me.

Osceola's look, might have silenced the commissioner, or, at least, have caused him to have changed his tactics, had he been at all sensitive to derision. But no--the vulgar soul of the plebeian official was closed against shame, as against justice; and without regarding the repulse, he pressed on with his plan.

"I ask, are you a chief?" continued he, repeating the interrogatory in a still more insulting tone. "Have you the right to sign?"

This time his questions were answered, and by a dozen voices at once.

Chieftains in the ring, and warriors who stood behind it; shouted in reply:

"The Rising Sun?--a chief! He _is_ a chief. He has the right to sign."

"Why call his right in question?" inquired Jumper, with a sneering laugh. "Time enough when he wishes to exercise it. He is not likely to do that now."

"But I am," said Osceola, addressing himself to the orator, and speaking with marked emphasis. "I have the right to sign--_I shall sign_."

It is difficult to describe the effect produced by this unexpected avowal. The entire audience--white men as well as red men--was taken by surprise; and for some moments there was a vibratory movement throughout the a.s.sembly, accompanied by a confused murmur of voices. Exclamations were heard on all sides--cries of varied import, according to the political bias of those who uttered them. All, however, betokened astonishment; with some, in tones of joy; with others, in the accents of chagrin or anger. Was it Osceola who had spoken? Had they heard aright? Was the "Rising Sun" so soon to sink behind the clouds? After all that had transpired--after all he had promised--was _he_ going to turn traitor?

Such questions pa.s.sed rapidly among the hostile chiefs and warriors; while those of the opposite party could scarcely conceal their delight.

All knew that the signing of Osceola would end the affair; and the removal become a matter of coa.r.s.e. The Omatlas would have nothing more to fear; the hostile warriors, who had sworn it might still resist; but there was no leader among them who could bind the patriots together as Osceola had done. With this defection the spirit of resistance would become a feeble thing; the patriots might despair.

Jumper, Cloud, Coa Hajo, and Abram, Arpiucki and the dwarf, seemed all equally stricken with astonishment. Osceola--he on whom they had reposed their fullest confidence--the bold designer of the opposition-- the open foe to all who had hitherto advocated the removal--he, the pure patriot in whom all had believed--whom all had trusted, was now going to desert them--now, in the eleventh hour, when his defection would be fatal to their cause.

"He has been bribed," said they. "His patriotism has been all a sham: his resistance a cheat. He has been bought by the agent! He has been acting for him all along. _Holy-waugus! Iste-hulwa-stchay_. [bad man--villain]. 'Tis a treason blacker than Omatla's!"

Thus muttered the chiefs to one another, at the same time eyeing Osceola with the fierce look of tigers.

With regard to Powell's defection, I did not myself know what to make of it. He had declared his resolution to sign the treaty; what more was needed? That he was ready to do so was evident from his att.i.tude; he seemed only to wait for the agent to invite him.

As to the commissioner being a party to this intention, I knew he was nothing of the kind. Any one who looked in his face, at that moment, would have acquitted him of all privity to the act. He was evidently as much astonished by Osceola's declaration as any one upon the ground, or even more so; in fact, he seemed bewildered by the unexpected avowal; so much so, that it was some time before he could make rejoinder.

He at length stammered out:

"Very well, Osceola! Step forward here, and sign then."

Thompson's tone was changed; he spoke soothingly. A new prospect was before him. Osceola would sign, and thus agree to the removal. The business upon which the supreme government had deputed him would thus be accomplished, and with a dexterity that would redound to his own credit.

"Old Hickory" would be satisfied; and then what next? what next? Not a mission to a mere tribe of savages, but an emba.s.sy to some high court of civilisation. He might yet be amba.s.sador? perhaps to Spain?