"That was a sad, sad time," sighed Mrs. Travilla. "The whole North was in mourning for Lincoln, and even the South soon saw that it had lost its truest and best friend; and there was a movement of sympathy for our nation in its great loss throughout the world."
"Yes, mother," said Harold; "and time only increases the esteem of the world for that great and good man."
The next day, after some healthful exercise upon the deck, the children returned to the saloon, and gathering about Grandma Elsie, begged for another story.
"Something historical?" she asked with her pleasant smile.
"Yes, grandma, if you please," replied Elsie. "I liked your story of Marion so much, and should be glad to hear about some other Revolutionary soldier who helped to drive away the British."
"Well, if you would all like that, I will tell you of Sergeant Jasper and his brave doings."
The other children gave an eager assent, and Mrs. Travilla began.
"History tells us that William Jasper was born in South Carolina in 1750. That would make him about twenty-six years old when the Revolutionary War began. He waspatriotic, and at once enlisted as a sergeant in the Second South Carolina Regiment.
"In June, 1776, a British fleet appeared off Charleston bar, and several hundred land troops took possession of Long Island, separated from Sullivan's—on which was our Fort Sullivan—only by a narrow creek. At half-past ten o'clock on the morning of the 28th of June the British ships anchored in front of our Fort Sullivan, which instantly poured a heavy fire upon them.
"But I shall not go into a detailed account of the battle, which, Lossing tells us, was one of the severest during the whole war, redounded to the military glory of the Americans, greatly increased the patriotic strength at the South, and was regarded by the British as very disastrous; for the loss of life on their ships was frightful.
"But I must tell you of a daring feat performed by Sergeant Jasper. At the beginning of the action, the flag-staff of our fort was cut away by a ball from a British ship,and the Crescent flag of South Carolina, that waved opposite the Union flag upon the western bastion, fell outside upon the beach. Jasper leaped the parapet, walked the length of the fort, picked up the flag, fastened it upon a sponge staff, and in the sight of the whole British fleet, whose iron hail was pouring upon the fortress, he fixed the flag firmly upon the bastion. Then he climbed up to the parapet and leaped, unhurt, within the fort, three cheers greeting him as he did so."
"Oh, how brave he was!" cried Ned. "I hope they gave him a reward for it."
"Yes," said his grandma, "the governor, on the day after the battle, visited the fort, and rewarded Jasper with the gift of his own small sword, a handsome one which hung by his side, and thanked him in the name of his country. He also offered him a lieutenant's commission; but the young hero declined it, saying, 'I am not fit to keep officers' company; I am but a sergeant.'
"He seems to have had no educational advantages,as he could neither read nor write."
"Oh, what a pity!" exclaimed several young voices.
"Yes, it was," sighed Mrs. Travilla. "I hope you are thankful, my dears, for your superior advantages.
"I have read that Jasper was given a roving commission, and choosing six men from the regiment to go with him, he went here and there, and often returned with prisoners before his general knew of his absence.
"Jasper had a brother who had joined the British, but he loved him so dearly that he ventured into the British garrison to see him. The brother was greatly alarmed at sight of him, lest he should be seized and hung as an American spy, his name being well known to many of the British officers. But Jasper said, 'Don't trouble yourself; I am no longer an American soldier.'
"'Thank God for that, William!' exclaimed the brother, giving him a hearty shake of thehand; 'and now only say the word, my boy, and here is a commission for you, with regimentals and gold to boot, to fight for his Majesty, King George.'
"But Jasper shook his head, saying that though there seemed but little encouragement to fight for his country, he could not fight against her. He stayed two or three days with his brother, hearing and seeing all that he could, then bade good-by and returned to the American camp by a circuitous route, and told General Lincoln all that he had seen."
"Grandma," said Ned thoughtfully, "it seems to me he did not tell the truth when he said he was not an American soldier. Was it right for him to say that?"
"I think not, Ned; but I suppose he thought it was, as he meant by it to help his country's cause. But remember, my dears, it is never right to do evil even that good may come.
"But to go on with my story. Jasper soon went again to the English garrison, this timetaking with him his particular friend, Sergeant Newton, a young man of great strength and courage. Jasper's brother received them very cordially, and they remained several days at the British fort without causing the least alarm.
"On the morning of the third day the brother said to them, 'I have bad news to tell you.' 'Aye, what is it?' asked William. His brother replied that ten or a dozen prisoners had been brought in that morning, as deserters from Savannah; that they were to be sent there immediately, and from all he could learn, it would be likely to go hard with them, as it seemed they had all taken the King's bounty."
"What does that mean, grandma?" asked Ned.
"That they had agreed to remain British subjects instead of fighting for their country; and for that the British were to protect them against the Americans. But it seems they had changed their minds and gone over to the cause of their country.
"Jasper asked to see the poor fellows, and his brother took him and Newton to the spot where the poor fellows were, handcuffed, and sitting or lying upon the ground. With them was a young woman, wife of one of the prisoners, sitting on the ground opposite to her husband, with her little boy leaning on her lap. Her dress showed that she was poor, and her coal-black hair spread in long, neglected tresses on her neck and bosom. Sometimes she would sit silent, like a statue of grief, her eyes fixed upon the ground; then she would start convulsively, lift her eyes and gaze on her husband's face with as sad a look as if she already saw him struggling in the halter, herself a widow and her child an orphan. The child was evidently distressed by his mother's anguish, and weeping with her.
"Jasper and Newton felt keenly for them in their misery. They silently walked away into a neighboring wood, tears in the eyes of both. Jasper presently spoke. 'Newton,' hesaid, 'my days have been but few, but I believe their course is nearly finished.' Newton asked why he thought so, and he answered, because he felt that he must rescue those poor prisoners or die with them, otherwise the remembrance of that poor woman and her child would haunt him to his grave.
"'That is exactly what I feel, too,' replied Newton, 'and here is my hand and heart to stand by you, my brave friend, to the last drop. Thank God, a man can die but once, and why should we fear to leave this life in the way of our duty?'
"Then the two embraced each other and at once set about making the necessary arrangements for carrying out their desperate resolution."
"Oh, how brave and kind they were!" exclaimed Elsie Raymond. "I am proud of them as my countrymen."
"As we all may be," said her grandma, then went on with her story.
"Shortly after breakfast the next morningthe prisoners were sent on their way to Savannah, guarded by a sergeant and corporal with eight men."
"Why, that was ten men for our two men to fight!" exclaimed Elsie Dinsmore.
"But I hope our brave fellows didn't give it up," said Elsie Raymond.
"No," replied her grandma; "Jasper presently took leave of his brother, and he and Newton started on some pretended errand to the upper country, but as soon as fairly out of sight of the town they struck into the woods and hurried after the prisoners and their guard, keeping out of sight in the bushes and anxiously watching for an opportunity to strike a blow.
"I think that to most men it would have seemed great folly for two unarmed men to attempt to strike a blow at ten men carrying loaded muskets and bayonets. But they were very brave and not willing to give up their countrymen to the dreadful fate the cruel British had appointed for them.
"Jasper said to Newton, 'Perhaps the guard may stop at the Spa to quench their thirst, and we may be able to attack them there.'
"The Spa! What was that, grandma?" asked Ned.
"A famous spring about two miles from Savannah, where travellers often stopped for a drink of its good water," she replied, then went on with her story.
"Jasper and Newton hurried on and concealed themselves among the bushes that grew thickly around the spring. Soon the soldiers and their prisoners came in sight of it, and the sergeant ordered a halt. That gave our heroes a little hope, though the odds were fearfully against them. The corporal, with his guard of four men, led the prisoners to the spring, while the sergeant, with the other four, grounded their arms near the road, then brought up the rear. The prisoners, wearied with their long walk, were permitted to rest themselves on the earth. Mrs. Jones took her seat opposite her husband, as usual, and hertired little boy fell asleep on her lap. Two of the corporal's men were ordered to keep guard and the other two to give the prisoners a drink out of their canteens. They obeyed, drew near the spring, rested their muskets against a pine-tree, then dipped up the water, drank, filled their canteens again and turned to give the prisoners a drink.
"'Now, Newton, is our time,' whispered Jasper. With that they sprang from their concealment, snatched up the two muskets resting against the tree, and in an instant shot down the two soldiers who were upon guard. The other two Englishmen sprang forward and seized their muskets; but before they could use them Jasper and Newton with clubbed guns levelled a blow at their heads, broke their skulls, and down they sank, pale and quivering, without a groan. Then snatching up the muskets, our heroes flew between the other British soldiers and their arms, grounded near the road, and ordered them to surrender, which they immediatelydid. Then they—our men—snapped the handcuffs off the prisoners and armed them with muskets."
"Oh, how good!" exclaimed Ned and the little girls who were listening to Grandma Elsie's story.
"But what did Mrs. Jones do while that fight was going on?" asked Elsie Dinsmore.
"At the beginning of it she fainted," replied Mrs. Travilla, "and her little son stood screaming piteously over her. But when she recovered her senses and saw her husband and his friends freed from their fetters, she seemed frantic with joy. She sprang to her husband, and, with her arms about his neck, sobbed out, 'My husband is safe, bless God, my husband is safe!' Then snatching up her child, she pressed him to her heart, exclaiming, 'Thank God, my son has a father yet.' Then kneeling at the feet of Jasper and Newton, she pressed their hands vehemently, but so full was her heart that all she could saywas, 'God bless you. God Almighty bless you.'"
"Oh, how nice!" exclaimed Ned, clapping his hands in delight.
"Then what did they all do, grandma?" asked Elsie Raymond. "Not go to Savannah, I suppose, as the British were there?"
"No; they recrossed the Savannah River, taking the arms and regimentals of the dead, their prisoners, too, and safely joined the American army at Parisburg, where they were received with great astonishment and joy."
"No wonder there was astonishment," said Elsie, "that two men could beat ten."
"That was because the two were Americans and the others only Englishmen," chuckled Ned. "Is there any more story about Jasper, grandma?"
"Not much," she replied. "He was killed at the siege of Savannah in 1779. Several gallant defenders of the French and American colors had been shot down; SergeantJasper sprang forward, seized the standards and kept them erect; then he, too, was prostrated by a bullet and fell into the ditch. He was carried to the camp, and soon died. Jasper's name is honored in Savannah; they have made that evident by bestowing it upon one of the city's squares."
It was Sabbath morning, and our little party on the yacht were gathered about the breakfast table, Dr. Harold having just come down from the deck, where he had spent the last few minutes.
"What of the weather, Harold?" asked his mother.
"It is cool and cloudy," he said in reply; "rather too cool and damp for ladies and children to pass much time on deck, I think, mother. I may gather the men there and read them a sermon, but the rest of you, I hope, will be content to pass at least most of the day in these lower, warmer quarters."
"I think we can very contentedly, if mother will lead us in some Bible lessons," said Grace, with a loving, smiling look at her whom, until of late, she had been wont to call Grandma Elsie.
"Very willingly, daughter mine," was the sweet-toned, smiling assent, received by all the children with looks and words of pleased anticipation.
On leaving the table they had family worship in the saloon, Dr. Harold leading the service as usual. Then he went upon the deck and the others gathered about Grandma Elsie.
Then Elsie Raymond, sitting there Bible in hand, exclaimed eagerly, "Oh, grandma, I am glad of this opportunity to ask you about what I have been reading here—this miracle of the Lord Jesus feeding so many, many folks—five thousand men, besides women and children—on only five loaves and two fishes. It couldn't have been nearly enough, except by Jesus blessing it and making it more, could it, grandma?"
"No, indeed, Elsie. Five large loaves, such as you are accustomed to seeing, would hardly be enough to feed fifty such hungry men; and those five loaves were much smaller thanours—probably little, if any, larger than our soda crackers; hardly enough to satisfy the appetite of one hungry boy."
"There were two fishes besides, you know, grandma; but if they were small ones, a boy could eat them, too."
"Yes; so no wonder the disciples thought it utterly impossible to feed that great crowd of hungry people, and begged Jesus to send them away to go into the villages and buy themselves victuals."
"Do you suppose they had any money to buy with, grandma?" asked the little girl.
"I think it probable that most of them were poor people with little or no money about them," replied Grandma Elsie. "And even if they had money, they were too many to find sufficient food in the little nearby towns. Jesus knew all that; He could see how weary and hungry many, if not all of them, were, particularly the women and little children. Jesus pitied and was ready to help them as no one else could, and no doubt he was gladHe had the power. He bade His disciples not to tell them to depart, but 'Give ye them to eat,' He said; and they replied, 'We have here but five loaves and two fishes;' and Jesus said, 'Bring them hither to me.' And He said, 'Make the men sit down.' John tells us there was much grass in the place, and that the men sat down, in number about five thousand. Then He (Jesus) took the five loaves and the two fishes, and looking up to heaven, He blessed and brake the loaves, and gave them to His disciples, and they distributed them among that great multitude. All ate till they were satisfied; then Jesus said, 'Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost.' John tells us, 'Therefore, they gathered them together, and filled twelve baskets with the fragments of the five barley loaves, which remained over and above unto them that had eaten.'"
"It was very, very wonderful, grandma, wasn't it?" exclaimed the little girl thoughtfully.
"Yes, indeed! a miracle that none but God could work. It proved that Jesus was divine. You have been reading Matthew's account of this miracle; now turn to the sixth chapter of Mark, and you will find the same story told by him. Then in the eighth we will find that he tells of another time when Jesus had worked a similar miracle—when He fed four thousand on seven loaves and a few small fishes; and they took up of the broken meat that was left seven baskets."
"Yes, grandma," said the little girl, turning over the leaves of her Bible, "and it says after that first time that He departed into a mountain to pray. But after the second, 'and straightway He entered into a ship with His disciples, and came into the parts of Dalmanutha.' Where was that, grandma?"
"It was a town on the west coast of the sea of Galilee. Read on now to the fourteenth verse."
Elsie read, "And the Pharisees came forth and began to question with Him, seeking ofHim a sign from heaven, tempting Him. And He sighed deeply in His spirit, and said, Why doth this generation seek after a sign? Verily I say unto you, There shall no sign be given unto this generation. And He left them, and entering into the ship, again departed to the other side."
"Weren't the bad men wanting to do Jesus harm?" asked Ned.
"Yes, they were, indeed," replied his grandma; "they hated Him because He told them of their sins. 'Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites: for ye are as graves which appear not, and the men that walk over them are not aware of them.' Then to the people: 'Beware ye of the leaven of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy.' Again He said of them: 'In vain do they worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men.... Woe unto you, lawyers, for ye have taken away the key of knowledge; ye entered not in yourselves, and them that were entering ye hindered.' And as He said these things untothem, the scribes and Pharisees began to urge Him vehemently, and to provoke Him to speak of many things; laying wait for Him, and seeking to catch something out of His mouth, that they might accuse Him. They were angry and wanted to kill Jesus, because He exposed their wickedness. In another chapter we are told, 'And He went into the temple, and began to cast out them that sold therein, and them that bought; saying unto them, It is written, My house is the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of thieves.' And He taught daily in the temple. But the chief priests and the scribes and the chief of the people sought to destroy Him, and could not find what they might do; for all the people were very attentive to hear Him."
"So they went out at night, when the crowds of people who loved Him were in their homes and asleep, I suppose, the wicked, money-loving Judas showing them where He was, and led Him away to the high priest, and all the chiefpriests and the elders and the scribes," sighed Elsie Raymond.
"Yes," said her grandma; "and they went through a mock trial, but could not get their witnesses to agree. And the high priest stood up in the midst and asked Jesus, saying, 'Answerest thou nothing? What is it which these witness against thee?' But Jesus made no answer. And the high priest asked him, 'Art thou the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?' Jesus said, 'I am; and ye shall see the son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.' Then the high priest rent his clothes and said, 'What need we any further witnesses? Ye have heard the blasphemy; what think ye?' And they all condemned Him to be guilty of death. And some began to spit on Him, and to cover His face, and to buffet Him, and to say unto Him, Prophesy: and the servants did strike Him with the palms of their hands."
"And He could have struck them all deadwithout a word, couldn't He, grandma?" asked Ned.
"Indeed He could," she replied; "but in His great love for you and for me and all His people, He chose to bear it all—all that and all the awful agony of the death upon the cross, that we might be saved. The Bible tells us, 'Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.' The dear Saviour, who died that awful death for us, invites us all to come to Him and be saved. For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. Those are His own words, spoken to Nicodemus."
"Grandma, couldn't Jesus have hindered those wicked men from treating Him so? Couldn't He have made them all die that minute if He had chosen to?" asked Ned.
"Yes, he could; but as I have just told you, He bore it all, and the awful death on the cross, that we might be saved—we and allwho would give themselves to Him. The Bible says Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures. He took upon Himself our human nature that He might bear our punishment and save us from eternal death."
"And all His earthly life long He was looking forward to that awful, agonizing death," sighed Grace in tones tremulous with emotion. "Oh, how can we help loving Him with all our hearts?"
"And striving to be like Him," added Grandma Elsie—"so unselfish, so forbearing and forgiving. Think of His loving, cheering, sympathizing talk with His disciples in that very night in which He was betrayed and His awful suffering began. Remember, He knew all the agony He was to go through that very night—in the garden of Gethsemane, where He prayed in so great an agony that His sweat became as it were great drops of blood falling down upon the ground. After that the betrayal, arrest, trial before the Jewishauthorities, with all the abuse heaped upon Him there, then in the morning before Pilate and Herod, the scourging, the clothing with the purple robe and crown of thorns, the mocking salutation, 'Hail, King of the Jews,' the smiting of His head with the reed they had put in His right hand, the mocking bowing of the knees and spitting upon Him. Then He was led out wearing the purple robe and crown of thorns, the cry of the chief priests and officers, 'Crucify Him! Crucify Him! Away with Him! Away with Him! Crucify Him!'"
Grandma Elsie paused, her eyes filled with tears, her lips trembling with emotion.
"Oh, how wonderful it was that Jesus bore it all, when even without a word He could have made every one of those dreadful persecutors die," said Elsie Dinsmore.
"Yes," said her aunt; "His love and compassion for us sinners was wonderfully great. Oh, how we should love Him, how carefully obey all His commands! Ah, how sweet it isto belong to Him! 'Since He is mine and I am His, what can I want beside.'"
"Grandma, I want to belong to Him," said Alie Leland; "how shall I get to be His, and know that I am?"
"Give yourself to Him, dear child, asking Him to make you just what He would have you to be. His promise is, 'Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out;' and who shall doubt His own word? And how kind and forgiving He was! Peter, who had denied Him, then repented with bitter weeping, seems to have been one of the first to whom He appeared after His resurrection. You remember, the angel whom the woman found sitting in the tomb said to them, 'Go tell His disciples and Peter.'"
"And if we are really His disciples we will be forgiven, too, won't we, grandma?" said Elsie Raymond.
"Yes; we will ask Him to help us to be so, and He will."
"Grandma," said Ned, "wasn't it strangethat when Jesus could make victuals so easily He should say to the disciples, 'Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost'?"
"I think it was to teach us all that waste is sinful; that nothing which could be made useful to us or to any one else should be thrown away. Let us take the lesson to heart and carefully obey this, and every teaching of our dear Lord and Master," was the gentle, sweet-toned reply, the eyes of the speaker shining with love to Him of whom she spoke, and joy that she was His very own for time and for eternity.
"Where are we now, uncle? Have we come down to Florida yet?" asked Ned at the breakfast table.
"Yes; we are now moving along down the east coast of that State," replied Dr. Harold; "and now we may as well decide at which and how many of its ports we will call. Should you enjoy visiting St. Augustine and Fort Marion again, Elsie?" he queried with a look of amusement at his niece.
"Oh, no, indeed, uncle!" was the quick, emphatic reply, accompanied by a little shiver, as if the very name brought some unpleasant recollection.
"But why not?" asked Elsie Dinsmore with a look of surprise and curiosity.
"Oh," exclaimed Elsie Raymond, "it's a dreadful place, over three hundred years old, with dungeons where people used to be torturedlong, long ago, and we seemed to hear one of them saying, 'Here have I lain for three hundred years with none to pity or help. Oh, 'tis a weary while! Shall I never, never escape?'"
"But as Cousin Ronald is not with us now we needn't fear a repetition of that," remarked Dr. Harold reassuringly. "Still, perhaps we may as well pass St. Augustine by this time, and visit places or things we did not look at before. Mother, what do you say to seeing something of the sponging business?"
"That it would be instructive and probably quite interesting," was the pleased reply.
"Sponging business!" echoed Ned. "What does that mean?"
"The work of gathering sponges and making them ready for the market," replied his uncle.
"Oh, I think that would be interesting!" cried the little fellow. "Do they grow down under the water, and are they nice and clean when they are brought up, uncle?"
"Not very, Ned," replied Dr. Harold, smiling kindly upon his young questioner; "but with your grandma's help I think I can give you all needed information on the subject; and afterward you may be able to see for yourself."
"Oh, that'll be good! Will you tell me about it, grandma?" asked Ned, turning excitedly to her.
"Sonny boy, we will have a nice talk about it in the saloon after our family worship," Mrs. Travilla replied in her usual kindly tone.
"And I am sure we will all be glad to hear whatever you can tell us on the subject, mother," said Grace. "I know it will be interesting to me, and a good preparation for the sight of the spongers' work."
The two Elsies and Alie Leland expressed their pleasure in the prospect of both the information promised by Grandma Elsie and the afterward sight of the doings of the spongers.
"I think, if it suits you, mother," said Dr.Harold, "we will have our talk on the sponging subject before our morning exercise upon the deck. Sitting still for a while will aid the digestion of this hearty breakfast, and the sun will make the deck a little warmer for us afterward."
Everybody seemed pleased with that plan, and it was carried out, Dr. Harold making one of his mother's little audience.
"Haven't you a map of Florida, Harold?" she asked.
"Oh, yes, mother, I have," he replied; "also some pictures that will be helpful." He hastened to his stateroom and brought them out.
"Ah, these will be quite a help," she said. "Come, children, let us look at the map first."
Then, as they gathered round the table on which she had laid the map, "There, on the east coast, near the southern end of the State, you see Miami, and starting from a point near it a chain of keys, or islands, begins which extends in the shape of a horn awaydown into the Gulf of Mexico, the Dry Tortugas being the westernmost. Sponges are found in the waters surrounding most of these keys, also between them and the mainland as far as Cape Sable. This is called 'the key grounds.' Some few of the people living on the larger islands and spongers from Key West are the only persons who engage in that work there. In the Gulf of Mexico, on the west coast, are the 'bay grounds,' which yield the most. They extend from John's Pass, a few miles north of the entrance to Tampa Bay, to St. Mark's Lighthouse."
"How far is that, grandma?" asked Ned.
"How far, Harold?" she asked.
"About two hundred miles, mother," he replied.
"There are some few sponges found between Tampa Bay and Cape Sable, but not enough to make it worth while to take special trips to that point," she continued.
"Now, who can tell me whether it is to thevegetable or animal kingdom sponge belongs?"
"Oh, grandma," laughed Ned, "I'm sure a sponge isn't an animal."
"Are you?" she queried with an amused smile. "Now, little girls, what are your opinions in regard to the matter?"
"Why, I never thought of a sponge as being either an animal or a vegetable!" exclaimed Alie Leland. "Which is it, grandma?"
"It belongs to the animal kingdom," was the reply. "I have never seen it in its natural state, but from what I have read and heard I know it is a very different looking object from what it becomes in being prepared for the market. When first brought up from the water it looks something like a jelly-fish or mass of liver, its entire surface covered with a thin, slimy skin, usually of a dark color, and having openings into what we call the holes of the sponge. What we call a sponge is really only the skeleton of one."
"And men go down into deep water to get them, do they?" queried Ned.
"Do you know how deep the water is on this coast, Harold?" asked his mother.
"I have been told from ten to fifty feet here in Florida, mother, but considerably more in the Mediterranean Sea; and the finest grades are found in the deepest water. Sponges from that sea are said to be superior in quality to those found in either Florida or the West Indies."
"Go on, my son, and give us all the information you can," said his mother as he paused.
"If you wish it, mother," he replied with an affectionate look and smile. "In the waters of Florida and the West Indies the fishing is done in flat-bottomed boats called dingies. A tin or wooden pail with a glass bottom is used to help locate the sponges by lowering it into the water and looking down through it. When that has been done, they are brought up by means of a pole some thirtyfeet long, with a sharp, curved, double hook, with which they, the sponges, are detached and drawn up to the surface. Having gotten a boatload, it is laid out to decompose in a kraal on the beach, where it is washed by the sea. At that time the odor is very unpleasant. When they have been in the kraal about a week they are beaten out with a short, heavy stick, which removes most of the slime and animal matter still remaining in them, and where the black scum still adheres they are scraped with a knife. The sponges are next squeezed out right thoroughly with the hands, then taken to the shore and strung on pieces of coarse twine about six feet long, and then they are ready for sale by auction."
"What is a kraal, uncle?" asked Ned.
"It is a pen, generally about ten feet square, built of wattled stakes, and is placed in shallow water near some key or island," replied Dr. Harold. "Here is a picture of one," he added, taking it from the table and holding it out so that all could see.
It was gazed upon with interest. Then several other pictures were shown, examined and commented upon interestedly—one or two spongers at work on the water, one of them with the long, hooked pole, the other gazing through the bucket with the glass bottom.
Another picture was of the sponge yard at Key West, showing the sponges drying. There were pictures of sponge auctions, too, and of a boat bringing sponges to the wharf at Key West.
"And can we see all these things when we get there—to Key West, I mean?" asked Ned, adding, "I think it would be a good deal better—more interesting—to look at them than only at their pictures."
"I hope to give you that pleasure, Neddie boy," replied his uncle, smiling on him and patting his cheek. "We will very likely have to wait a day or two at Key West for your father and mother and the rest who are to join us there and pass with us through the Gulf of Mexico on the way to Viamede."
"Is there a town there, uncle?" asked Elsie.
"Yes; a well-built one, with wide streets crossing at right angles, and having churches, schools and a fine Marine Hospital belonging to the United States."
"Hotels, too, I suppose," remarked Elsie Dinsmore, "but we won't care for them, having this delightful yacht to stay in."
"No; and in it we can sail about and see the originals of the pictures we have been looking at. Large quantities of sponges, turtles and fish are sent out from Key West to our Atlantic cities. But wrecking is the principal business of the place."
"Why, what does that mean, uncle?" asked Ned.
"You know what we mean when we say a vessel has been wrecked, don't you?" his uncle asked in reply. "Well, about forty-five or fifty vessels are wrecked in the course of a year near Key West, and the people of that island help to save the cargoes, doing so in a way to benefit the owners as well as themselves.I am told they derive an annual profit of about two hundred thousand dollars."
"It (Key West) is considered an important military station, is it not?" asked Grace.
"Yes; being the key to the Florida Pass and the Gulf of Mexico," replied Harold. "It has a large and safe harbor, which will admit vessels drawing twenty-two feet of water; and Fort Taylor, which defends it, is a powerful work."
"Oh, I for one expect to have a good time there!" exclaimed his cousin Elsie; "we can visit the town and the fort to see what they are like, then come back to this yacht and have a good time here while waiting for the rest of our party."
"Yes, I think we can," assented Dr. Harold. "And now suppose we all wrap up and go on deck for a little healthful exercise."
They did so, and all greatly enjoyed their promenade, though Ned soon grew weary enough to be glad to go below again and liedown for a little nap. Grandma and sister went with him, the other children soon followed, and Grace and her husband were left alone together, a state of things by no means disagreeable to either. It was still very early in their honeymoon, and dearly as they loved their mother and the little folks so nearly related to them, they were glad now and then to be left quite to themselves—Harold that he might pet and caress his heart's idol unobserved, and Grace that she might receive and return such tokens of ardent affection unabashed by the thought of indifferent or amused spectators of the scene.
But at length they began taking note of the progress that they were making toward their destination, and Grace asked:
"How soon do you think we will reach Key West?"
"We are nearing it now," replied Harold, "and will anchor in the harbor to-night, I think."
"Oh, I am glad to hear that!" exclaimedGrace. "And how soon do you think father and his party will join us?"
"Doubtless in a few days we shall see them. They will come down by rail to Cedar Keys, from there by steamer to Key West."
"And they will want to stay a few days to see the sponge auctions, sponge yard and so forth; and after that we will have the rest of our pleasant journey in the yacht to Viamede, mother's beautiful and delightful Southern home."
"To me it is both beautiful and delightful," returned Harold, smiling fondly upon her, "and I am very glad that it is to my little wife also."
"Oh, she's not so very little!" exclaimed Grace with an amused and happy laugh, drawing herself up to her full height as she spoke.
"Yet rather small compared to your tall, broad-shouldered husband," returned Harold, accompanying his words with a very loverlike caress.
"Now, Rory, leave off, sir;You'll hug me no more;That is eight times to-dayThat you've kissed me before,"
"Now, Rory, leave off, sir;You'll hug me no more;That is eight times to-dayThat you've kissed me before,"
sang Grace, ending with a merry laugh.
"Then here goes another on that to make sure,For there's luck in odd numbers says Rory O'More."
"Then here goes another on that to make sure,For there's luck in odd numbers says Rory O'More."
rejoined Harold in laughing reply, and suiting the action to the word.
TheDolphinentered the harbor of Key West early that evening and anchored near the shore. All her passengers were on deck, eager to take a bird's-eye view of the place, expecting to do more than that in the morning.
"I suppose we will all go ashore directly, or at least pretty soon after breakfast, won't we, Harold?" asked Elsie Dinsmore.
"Hardly all of us, Cousin Elsie," replied Harold, giving Ned a regretful glance as he spoke; "the exertion would be too great for my young patient's strength, and surely some one of us should stay here in our yacht with him."
"And his grandmother is the very one to do that," quickly responded Mrs. Elsie Travilla.
"But, mother, you should not be deprived of the sight of this town of Key West," remonstrated Harold, and Ned's sisters, Grace and Elsie, each promptly offered to stay and take care of their little invalid brother. "Very good and kind of you both," remarked Harold with a pleased smile, "but now I think of it, we are likely to lie in this port for some days, and that being the case, can divide forces and make two trips to the town, some going to-day, others to-morrow."
"That entirely obviates the difficulty," said his mother. "I will be caretaker of my little grandson to-day, and perhaps some one else may be to-morrow."
A sailor had been sent ashore to inquire for mail and telegrams, and now approached our party with several letters and a telegram, that last directed to Dr. Harold, who took and promptly opened it.
"Ah ha!" he said with a pleased smile; "therest of our party will be here with us soon—to-night or to-morrow, I think."
"Oh, that's good!" cried Ned joyously; "how glad I'll be to see dear papa and mamma! With them here I sha'n't care at all for not being able to go on shore."
Everybody else seemed to share his delight at the prospect of the expected addition to their company, and talked merrily of what they hoped to do and see in the next few days.
"I wish you could go ashore with the rest of us, Neddie dear," said his sister in a regretful tone, taking his hand in hers and giving it an affectionate squeeze. "You poor little brother, it does seem hard that you have to miss so many of the pleasures the rest of us have."
"It's good of you to feel so for me, Elsie dear," he replied, returning the squeeze and smiling up into her face, "but I don't mind it a bit if I can have grandma or mamma or papa with me; they're so kind and tell me such nice stories; and I can have a rest or a nap whenever I want it."
The departure of the bridal party from Woodburn was soon followed by that of the guests, till all were gone but those from Sunnyside. They were entreated to linger, and assured there was nothing to hurry them away from their father's house.
"I can't bear to have you go yet," said Violet entreatingly. "You are the only ones of my husband's children left to us, and the house will seem desolate enough to him and me till we, too, can start for Viamede. Besides, you are none of you going there with us, so we want to see all we can of you now and here."
"We do, indeed," said the captain; "and especially of you, Max, as there is no knowing how long it may be before Uncle Sam will let us have you with us again."
"True, father, and I don't want to lose a minute of the time I may have with you,"returned Max feelingly, "or with the other dear ones—wife, child, sister and brother," he added, glancing from one to another.
"No; and we all want to be together while we can; it is so sad to have to part even for a time," sighed Lucilla, turning a regretfully affectionate look upon one and another, especially her father, her eyes filling as they met the tenderly loving expression in his.
"Yes, parting is hard," he said with forced cheerfulness; "but we will console ourselves with the thought that it is not likely to be for very long. We seem to be in that respect an unusually happy family."
"True, and I think our wedding party has been an entire success," said Violet in her usual sprightly tones; "nothing went wrong, and our darling Grace made the loveliest of brides."
There was a word of cordial assent to that from all present except Baby Mary, who had fallen asleep in her mother's arms.
"How long may you stay with us this time, Max?" asked Chester.
"I must leave next Tuesday morning," was the reply. "May I trust you to take good care of my wife and daughter while they are left alone with you and Sister Lu?"
"Certainly; I intend to do the very best I can for them," returned Chester with the air of one making a very solemn promise. "I hope you are willing to trust me, Sister Eva?" turning to her.
"Perfectly," she said with a pleasant little laugh. "And Lu and I will try to take good care of Baby Mary's Uncle Chester."
"Ah, it seems it is worth my while to claim to be that," he laughed.
"My dear," said Violet, addressing the captain, "don't you think we can make our arrangements to leave for Viamede by next Tuesday morning?"
"Yes; I think we can if you wish to go then," he replied; "and by so doing we shouldprobably reach Key West only a day or two later than our party on theDolphin."
"Which would be very pleasant for our dear ones, especially Elsie and Ned."
"And how glad they will be to see papa and mamma," remarked Lucilla, unable to repress a sigh as she spoke.
"Daughter dear, I am sorry, indeed, that you, Chester, Eva and Max are not all to be of our party," her father said, regarding her with a loving, regretful look; "but cheer up with the thought that the separation is not likely to be a very long one. We may hope to be all together again in a few months; and I hope with Ned quite restored to wonted health and strength."
"Oh, I hope so," she said. "Dear little fellow! His Sister Lu is very fond of him. And, father, you will write frequently to me?"
"Every day if you will do the same by me," he answered with a smile. "And in addition to that we can have telegrams and 'phonemessages. So that the separation, will not be so bad as it was in the days when I was in Uncle Sam's naval service. Now I think I'll go to the 'phone and ask if cousins Ronald and Annis can be ready to start on Tuesday morning."
He did so, and the answer was in the affirmative. Everybody was glad, for those cousins were esteemed good company by one and all, and Ned was known to be always greatly entertained by Cousin Ronald's use of his ventriloquial powers.
"The fun he will make for our Neddie boy will do the little chap a world of good, no doubt," said Max with satisfaction.
"Surely it will," said Lucilla; "and I am so glad that Dr. Harold still has him in his charge, for certainly Harold is a skilful physician, even though related to us," she added with a little laugh.
"Yes," said her father; "I am glad he is to be with us, and that our dear ones here will still have the services of his brother Herbertand Dr. Arthur Conly, both equally skilful in the practice of their profession. Don't let them neglect you, daughter," he added earnestly. "Don't fail to summon them promptly, Chester, should any one of you be at all ill."
"Rest assured I will not, sir," returned Chester with prompt decision. "Trust me to do my very best for the health and happiness of the two dear ladies left in my charge; the little newcomer also."
"Thank you, Brother Chester," said Max. "It is a great comfort to me that I can leave my dear ones in your care."
"It seems hard to give our dear ones into the care of others," sighed Violet. "It was hard for us to part with our darling Neddie for even a few days, but mamma and Harold can and will take better care of him than we could, and we hope to join them very soon."
"Yes," said the captain; "and when we start we may hope to overtake them in somewhat less than two days."
"Yes, father," responded Max; "and what a blessing it is that travelling is so much speedier work than it used to be even not so very many years ago."
"And that messages can be sent and received so promptly by telegraph and 'phone," responded the captain. "It seems to bring distant parts of the world much nearer than they used to be, so that temporary separations by land or sea are not now the sore trials they were in former days."
"Eva and I feel it a great comfort," said Max, turning to his wife and child with a tender smile, "as in case I were needed here I might be so easily summoned and come promptly, even at the risk of having to resign from the navy," he added in a half jesting tone.
"Ah, Max, the possibility of tempting you to so rash an act as that would certainly make me hesitate to summon you, except in a case of the direst necessity," said Eva in tones tremulous with emotion.
"But we will hope that no such necessity may ever arise," remarked Captain Raymond in a cheery tone. "By the way, let us take another look at Grace's bridal gifts. Many of them are well worth close scrutiny."
"Yes, indeed," said Violet; "and I must see them carefully packed away to-day or to-morrow."
"Oh, let us help you with it to-day, Mamma Vi," said Lucilla.
"Thank you, I will," replied Violet.
Examining, chatting over and the packing away of the numerous bridal gifts occupied the greater part of the afternoon; an early tea followed, and soon after that the Sunnyside folk returned to their homes, thinking it not well to have the baby out any later than that in cold weather.
For the next few days Violet and the captain felt it lonely enough without the dear ones aboard theDolphin, but busied themselves with preparations for following them, and in the meantime greatly enjoyed their daily intercoursewith their near and loved neighbors, his older children and the baby granddaughter.
So the time passed, and to most of them it seemed but a little while before Tuesday morning dawned. Good-bys were then said; Max went his way northward and the others of the captain's party took a southward-bound train of cars, which carried them to Cedar Keys, on the western Florida coast. From there they went down by steamer to Key West. As we have seen, the captain had sent a telegram ahead, and their arrival was a glad event, but not a surprise to theDolphin'spassengers. Ned's joy was very great. He had been happy with grandma, uncle and sisters, but papa and mamma were even more to him than were they, so that their coming seemed to quicken his recovery. Several days were spent at that port, that all might have abundant opportunity to see all on both land and water that they cared to see. Ned had no desire to visitthe sponge yards or auctions, but some sponges were brought on board theDolphin, and he was rather startled for a moment when, on picking one up, a scream as of pain and anger seemed to come from it. "Don't, you naughty boy; just let me alone!"
"Oh," cried Ned, dropping it hastily, "I didn't know you were alive. But don't be scared; I'll not hurt you."
Then noticing a quizzical look in his father's eye, and catching the sound of a half-smothered laugh from his sister and some of the others, he suddenly comprehended how it happened that the sponge seemed so alive and able to speak in good, plain English.
"Oh, I know; it was Cousin Ronald making the thing talk; for it can't be that it's alive after being pulled up out of the water and scraped and cleaned and all that."
"Silly boy! Dead folks can't talk, but I can," the sponge seemed to reply, speaking in a sneering tone.
"No," laughed Ned; "but Cousin Ronaldisn't dead, if you are. Besides, I don't believe you could talk when you were alive."
"Huh! Much you know about it. Some silly little folks think they know a great deal more than they do."
Ned seemed highly amused. "Oh, it's good fun, Cousin Ronald, so please keep on," he begged, looking up into the kindly face of the old gentleman.
"Well, now," Mr. Lilburn exclaimed, as if much surprised, "I don't live in that bit of sponge."
"No," laughed Ned; "it's much too little for anybody to live in; but I think your voice can get in it, and it's real fun to hear it talk, so please make it say something more."
"I used to live on the rocks away down under the water," the sponge seemed to say; "that was my home, and I wanted to stay there, but a cruel man came down, pulled me off, and brought me up, and I've had an awful time ever since; they shook me andscraped me and squeezed me so hard and long that now I'm more dead than alive."
"Oh, it's too bad!" exclaimed Ned. "I think they might have let you live on in your own home. Maybe we might send you back to it, if you were alive; but it's no use now if you are dead."
"Well, Neddie boy, don't you think Mr. Sponge has talked enough now?" asked Cousin Ronald in his own natural voice. "I am really afraid our good friends here must be tired of the very sound of his voice."
"Perhaps they are," replied Ned; "and I'm afraid you are tired making him talk. But it has been good fun, and I am very much obliged to you for it, Cousin Ronald."
"You are very welcome," replied Mr. Lilburn; "and I am very glad to be able to give a bit of amusement to a young cousin who has been so ill."
"Thank you, sir; you are ever so kind," returned Ned in grateful tones.
All this happened on deck, late in the afternoon, and Dr. Harold now said he thought it time for his little patient to be taken down into the saloon, as the air was growing quite cool.
"Oh uncle, I don't want to go down yet, leaving all this good company," exclaimed Ned imploringly.
"But you don't want to get worse, do you?" asked Harold in kindly tones.
"And mother will go with you," said Violet, rising and taking his hand in hers.
"Father, too; and he'll carry you down," added the captain, taking the little fellow in his arms and hastening toward the stairway leading to the cabin of the vessel. Violet followed close behind them, and Dr. Harold and Grace brought up the rear; Grandma Elsie, the younger Elsies and Alie Leland following them also, Annis and Cousin Ronald, too, so that in a few minutes theDolphin'spassengers had all deserted the deck for the saloon.
Then presently came the call to supper, andall gathered about a table well furnished with wholesome, satisfying food and drink.
Grace sat at her father's right hand, between him and her husband, and as he carved the fowl and filled the plates, he every now and then gave her a pleased, scrutinizing, smiling glance.
"You are looking bright and well, daughter," he said at length. "Your honeymoon seems to agree with you, though it is perhaps rather early to judge of that."
"It has been very delightful so far, papa," she returned with a smiling glance first at him and then up into Harold's face; "it could hardly be otherwise in such a vessel and in such company—with a dear mother, a good doctor, a kind husband—indeed, everything heart could wish, except the dear ones left behind—my dear father, mamma and sisters Lu and Eva; not to mention darling Baby Mary. And now," she concluded, "since two of the dearest ones, and Cousin Ronald andAnnis have joined us, I am full of content, of joy, and very, very happy."
"Yes, Gracie, it's ever so nice to have them all here—particularly papa and mamma," remarked Ned, with a sigh of content; "and I hope Cousin Ronald is going to make lots of fun for us."
"But maybe Dr. Harold won't approve of so much fun for his young patient," suggested a voice that seemed to come from somewhere in Ned's rear.
"Oh, who are you now?" queried the little fellow, turning half round in his chair to look behind him.
"Somebody that knows a thing or two," replied the same voice, now apparently coming from a distant part of the room.
"Oh, you do, do you?" laughed Ned. "Well, I think I begin to know who you are," he added, turning a half-convinced, half-inquiring look upon Cousin Ronald.
"Ha! ha! Some little boys think themselves very wise, even when they don't understanda matter at all," returned the voice of the invisible speaker.
"But I do, though," returned Ned; "I know Cousin Ronald and a thing or two about what he can do. But it's fun, anyhow; it seems so real, even if I do know he's doing it."
"And you think I'm your Cousin Ronald, do you? Do I look like that old gent?" asked the voice, seeming to come from within an adjoining stateroom.
"Old gent isn't a nice name to give a real gentleman like our Cousin Ronald," retorted Ned in a tone of disgust, which caused a laugh of amusement from most of those about the table.
"There, my son, that will do now; let us see you finish your supper quietly," said Captain Raymond, and Ned obeyed.
The next morning the weather was such as made theDolphin'ssaloon a more attractive place to her passengers than was her deck; so there they all gathered and sat chatting cosily together till at length the children began asking Grandma Elsie for another of her interesting historical stories.
"I think it is Captain Raymond's turn to be narrator now," she said with a smiling glance at him, "and I feel inclined to be one of the audience."
"And I am inclined to be a listener to a story from you, mother," he returned pleasantly; "or if you are unwilling to entertain us in that way this morning, perhaps Cousin Ronald may feel inclined to do so."
"Thanks for the invitation, captain, but I would vastly prefer the rôle of listener," was Mr. Lilburn's response to that, and after amoment's silent consideration the captain said: "As we are now passing through the Gulf of Mexico, some distance south of the States of Alabama and Mississippi, I suppose a few passages from their history may prove interesting and instructive to at least the younger members of my audience. Shall I give them?"
The query seemed addressed to the children, and was promptly replied to by a chorus of expressions of pleasure in the prospect; for all there knew the captain to be an interesting narrator of historical events.
"I shall begin with Alabama, just now the nearer of the two States," he said. "The word Alabama signifies 'Here we rest.' It is an Indian expression. Fernando de Soto was the first white man who ever entered the State. That was in 1540. His coming displeased the Indians who lived there and considered the country their own, therefore they opposed his progress in several battles. He found them more civilized than in other sectionsof America which he visited. Just above the confluence of the Tombigbee and Alabama rivers they had a place called Maubila, consisting of eighty handsome houses, each large enough to contain a thousand men. Round about them was a high wall, made of immense trunks of trees set deep in the ground and close together, strengthened with cross-timbers and interwoven with large vines.
"De Soto and his men entered the town, and were presently treacherously attacked by ten thousand of the Indians. The Spaniards resisted the attack, and a battle ensued which lasted nine hours, and resulted in the destruction of the town and the killing of six thousand Indians. The Spaniards, too, suffered terribly, lost eighty men, forty-five horses and all their baggage and camp equipage."
"So it was very bad for both armies, wasn't it, papa?" said Ned.
"Yes, it was, indeed," replied his father,"but the Spaniards were the ones most to blame. This country belonged to the Indians; what right had the Spaniards to come here and try to take it from them? Surely, none at all. What presumption it was in the sovereigns of Europe to give to whomsoever they pleased great tracts of land in America to which they themselves had no real right.
"But to go back to my story. The Indians were desperate, and fought the invaders, contesting every rood of the ground from the hour of their landing. And naturally, whenever a Spaniard fell into their hands, they returned cruelty for cruelty; and the Spaniards were very, very cruel to men, women and children; but De Soto grew tired of having the cruelty of his men returned upon them, therefore he invited a powerful Creek chief to meet him for a friendly talk. But the chief scorned the invitation, called the white men by the names they deserved, and gave them warning that he would never cease making war upon them as long as one of their hated race remained inthe country. And both he and his followers carried out their threat, resorting to ambush and stealthy surprises, killing scores, whose heads they chopped off and carried on the ends of poles.
"But some of this you have been told before in our talks over the history of Florida.
"De Soto crossed Northern Georgia and Northeastern Alabama to Maubila, where they had that terrific fight of which I have just told you. The following winter was a severe one, passed by the Spaniards in the country of the Chickasaws, around the tributaries of the Yazoo. In the spring a furious engagement took place with the Chickasaws, in which the Spaniards came near being annihilated. In April the forlorn remnant began again tramping through the wilderness, blindly groping for the land where De Soto had been told he would find great quantities of gold.
"In the month of May, 1541, De Soto and his men reached the bank of the MississippiRiver, above the mouth of the St. Francis. The men stood a long time, gazing upon it with awe and admiration, for it is one of the mightiest rivers of the world, and they were the first Europeans to see it at any distance above its mouth."
"And did they stop there, papa?" asked Ned.
"No, my son; they were not yet ready to give up their search for gold and for the Pacific Ocean, which they believed was now not far away."
"Didn't know much about geography, did they?" laughed Ned.
"No; scarcely anything of that of this continent," replied his father; "but perhaps my little son is not much wiser now in regard to what was then the condition of what is now this great country of ours. Can you tell him, Grace, what it was at that time?"
"In 1540, papa? A wilderness peopled only by savages and wild beasts. It was not until 1620 that the pilgrims came to Massachusetts.The first settlement in Maryland was not made until 1631. Virginia's first settlers came in 1607. But the French Huguenots planted a colony in South Carolina as early as May, 1562, twenty years later than De Soto's visit to Alabama. Georgia was the last settled of the thirteen original colonies."
"And those thirteen colonies were all there was of our country at the time of the Revolutionary War, weren't they?" asked Elsie Dinsmore.
"Yes," replied the captain; "thirteen colonies at the beginning of that war, thirteen States before it ended.
"But to go back to the story of Alabama. It seems to have been left to the Indians until the spring of 1682, when Robert Cavalier de la Salle descended the Mississippi to its mouth, named the country Louisiana, and took possession of it in the name of the King of France. All the Mississippi valley was then claimed by France, but in 1763 she ceded it to England. West Florida, from1764 to 1781, included quite a good deal of the present territory of Alabama and Mississippi. In May of 1779 Spain declared war against Great Britain, and the next March the Spanish governor of Louisiana captured Mobile. In 1783 Great Britain ceded to the United States all territory east of the Mississippi, except Florida, which she ceded back toSpain.
"Alabama was at that time almost entirely in the occupation of the Indians. There was a garrison of Spanish troops at Mobile, one at St. Stephen's, on the Tombigbee, and there were trading posts at different points in the South and West. And now the United States bought the whole country west of what is now Georgia to the Mississippi, and in 1817 made it the Mississippi Territory. Fort Stoddard was built near the confluence of the Alabama and Tombigbee. During the War of 1812 with Great Britain there was a great deal of fighting with the Indians of Alabama. The Creeks were the principal tribe, and in 1812they were stirred up to war by Tecumseh, the celebrated Shawnee warrior. In August they attacked Fort Mimms; the garrison made a desperate resistance, but were overcome, and out of three hundred men, women and children, only seventeen survived the massacre.
"This aroused the adjoining States to action. Generals Jackson, Claiborn, Floyd and Coffee entered the Indian country and defeated the Indians at Talladega, where two hundred and ninety of their warriors were slain. In the same month (November) General Floyd attacked the Creeks on their sacred ground, at Autossee. Four hundred of their houses were burned and two hundred of their warriors killed, among whom were the kings of Autossee and Tallahassee. The last stand of the Creeks was at Horseshoe Bend, where the Indians fought desperately, but were defeated with the loss of nearly six hundred men. The remaining warriors submitted, and in 1814 a treaty of peace was made, and the remainderof the Creeks have removed beyond the Mississippi.
"After that people poured in from Georgia, the two Carolinas, Kentucky, Tennessee and Virginia. The State grew rapidly in wealth and population, so that in 1860 it was the fourth of the South in importance and the second in the amount of cotton produced."