Pirate

I got up and went to the men, explained my plan, and waited as they finished eating. They followed me back to where Rhames lay. One of the men gave him his dagger, and Rhames put the wooden handle in his mouth and nodded. The men held him tightly as I prepared to suture the wound. The needle met resistance, the skin tougher than I had anticipated. He screamed and stared at me with bulging eyes as I forced it through. It took several stitches to get a feel for it, but I slowly closed the wound. Finished, I looked up and saw him still conscious, his teeth firmly in the wood handle of the dagger and drool running from his mouth. I removed the dagger and he relaxed. After a few deep breaths, I recoated the wound with coconut oil and tore another strip from my shirt to bind it. Satisfied I had done all I could, I laid down, exhausted.

An hour later we were loaded and started to move out, three to a boat. For the first time Rhames and I were separated, but this was my decision. Only two could row the boats, and he was incapable and I was the weakest. The water was calm, and we reached the beach by the spot we would portage at dusk. I got out of the boat and went to scout the river mouth, when suddenly I heard a large explosion. It was almost dark and I ran toward the point, where a glow from a fire showed in the distance. The outline of two ships were visible, where only Lafitte’s was earlier. The Navy frigate fired again.

I ran back to the beach. “The Navy just fired on Lafitte. This is our chance.” I started pulling a boat across the sand. The men quickly ran to the boats and followed my lead. I had planned on waiting until later that night, when there was less chance of being spotted, but the Navy had given us our opportunity. Anyone not on the two ships would be watching the action and not the river mouth.

After five minutes of back-breaking work, the boats floated in the knee-deep water, and we hopped in. The men took to the oars and pulled into the river. From my position in the bow I was able to look backwards at the fire blazing as Lafitte’s ship went down.

12

The predawn mosquitos swarmed around my head as I peered through the bushes and observed the activity in the camp. The women were out, raking the coals to restart their fire. The dim outlines turned to identifiable figures as the sun rose and filtered through the scrub oaks. We needed to know if this band of Indians would be hostile or approachable. The coastal tribes were friendly and traded with us, but we had heard stories of the Indians further inland—tales of cannibalism and savagery. We had covered many miles since we had entered the river, and it was hard to believe it had only been a day since we had seen Lafitte’s ship sunk by the Navy. With three in each boat, we were able to rotate rowers and sleep in turns, allowing us to continue nonstop, and I estimated we had covered half the distance to the big lake. During the night, we had passed several small Indian villages, and I hoped they either hadn’t seen us or would keep quiet about our passing.

Relations with the Indians were tense as of late. The peaceful Calusa and Tequesta tribes had merged with the Crow, forced to move south by Andrew Jackson and the United States Army. They called themselves the Seminoles and were wary of white men. This was the largest village we had passed, and I made sure to put some distance between us before we found a beach upriver to make camp. The river had changed through the course of our paddle, from the more tropical coast cluttered with palms to the cypress, scrub oaks, and brush that now surrounded us. The ground was still sandy, but more like dirt than the coastal sand we were used to. Along with the change in flora, the fauna had changed as well. Alligators were still around, and deer were often visible drinking along the shore. Panthers were rumored to be in these woods, and I was sure I had heard the roar of a big cat, although I had not seen it.

My concern was that our boats were no longer suitable for the shallow and winding river. Since late last night, the water had become riddled with shoals, and our boats had grounded several times. I knew the Indians used canoes, lighter and more maneuverable craft made from burned-out cypress logs than the heavy oak longboats we had. If we were to continue to the big lake and then south through the river of grass, we would need several of these vessels to carry us and the treasure. The hollowed-out cypress logs we had seen the natives fish from in the estuaries along the coast were perfect for navigating these waters. With no time to make them ourselves, the only option was to steal them. I hoped as I watched the camp wake up and start their daily routines that this tribe would docile and an easy target.

Swift stirred next to me. “What are we looking for, anyway?”

I moved closer to whisper, “I’m not sure. We need to gauge the fight in them. Just watch.”