Pirate

“Interesting. From what I have heard, they wouldn’t want trouble from a small band of white men. They would let the land deal with you.” He looked at me.

“Truth be told, we stole these canoes from a band further downstream and rescued a woman they had hostage.” There was no use lying to him. I suspected that we would need their help if we were to rescue Rory.

He left me standing there and went to his men by the fire. Our group came together whispering questions to each other, as we watched the Indians gather and do the same. They knew nothing of the treasure, or we would probably be dead, broke, or both already. What we shared, and the reason we might still be standing, was we had a common enemy in the United States government. Somehow, I needed to work this to our advantage. Before I had an answer, they broke their huddle, and Osceola came toward me.

“We will help you get the woman back. It seems we have more in common than avoiding Andrew Jackson.”

Before I could ask, he explained.

“This land here, where the river meets the big lake, is the only habitable spot that we can both protect and thrive in. The tribe that lives here has rejected our offers of peace, and we were on our way back to wait for our war band. We have no choice but to deal with them if we want to survive. They claim to be original Calusa, with pure bloodlines, and look at us as outcasts with mixed blood. I have tried to explain that we are the same and share the same enemies, but they rejected us. Now we must do what we need to survive.”

I understood his plight, being from mixed blood myself. Although my family claimed to be Dutch, we had a line of Semitic blood that forced us to immigrate rather than be persecuted. I suspected Osceola shared the same fate with his mixed heritage. “But how can we help? We are just a handful of poorly armed pirates.”

He slapped my back, “My new friend. We will see.”

19

Osceola sent scouts on foot both up and downriver to see if the other tribe was stalking us, but both groups came back several hours later and reported no sign of the other tribe. Apparently the abduction of Rory had satisfied them, and they were content to let us go. Osceola had no answer for whether the tribe from who we stole the canoes and liberated Rory, and the tribe that held her now, were related. I suspected they were, as this was the first we had heard of Seminoles this far south. It also made sense that they controlled, traveled, and traded along the length of the entire river, meaning we would not only have to deal with them to free the girl, but also to gain access to the big lake.

We started several fires after Osceola’s men returned to cook and keep warm. The temperature had plummeted, and I noticed a haze around the moon, a sure sign the weather was about to change. He told me of his struggle with the Army, and I recounted the tale of our escape from the Navy, as well as our plans to head south through the river of grass to the Keys.

At this, he laughed. “You pirates are going to stumble your way into the mouth of a waiting alligator. Not one of you is a tracker or guide.”

I gave him an odd look. “All we have to do is head south, and we will end up at the tip of the peninsula.” I pulled the map from my pocket and showed him our intended route.

He took the parchment and studied it. “You have no idea what lies between here and there.” He pointed at the map. “The Indians here say there are miles and miles of pointed grass they call sawgrass and water. No landmarks. There is talk that no one has ever made that journey and lived to tell of it. I fear if you go that way alone, there will be six fewer pirates in the world.” He laughed again.

I found no humor in his remarks. “And what would you suggest?”

“Here again I can help you. But first we must deal with the threat at hand.”

“I thought your scouts said they weren’t looking for us,” I said.

He looked at me as a father to a son. “They are not looking for us, because they know we are here.” He leaned back as if this thought did not trouble him.

“So what do you have in mind?” I asked.

“If I were their leader, I would send a message to the village on the big lake that you are heading that way. We’re between them. The tribe at the lake will come downriver, and the other will come upriver to try and squash us.” He slapped his hands together like he was swatting a bug and laughed.

“You don’t seem worried.”

“I have a hundred warriors at my back. You have given us the perfect opportunity to fight the battle that we must.” He looked around the camp. “Blue,” he called to a figure in the shadows.

A small black man came toward us, with an even smaller woman beside him. How I had not noticed them before, I don’t know, and again felt that I had better improve my skills if we were to survive the Indians.