INDEPENDENCE AND HONOR.
To-day as we meet the Seminole “at home,” we find the wigwam made of palmetto leaves and the skins of wild animals; the floor of this structure is made of split logs and elevated about two feet above the ground. A few of the Indians have in late years built board houses, but the roof is made of palmetto thatch. Here, surrounded by the gloom and weirdness of the Everglades, miles from whiteman’s habitation, the baying of the alligator, the hooting of the great horn owl, and the croaking of the heron are the only sounds to be heard. Truly the picture is one of melancholy and profound dreariness. But here we find the aborigines contented because they are out of the white man’s power. Here they hold their councils, here around the camp fires the traditions of the old turbaned tribe are taught to the youths; here, too, they follow the same customs of the race of one hundred and fifty years ago. Here is instilled into the youth the story of the perfidies practiced upon their fathers by the white man; and as the children listen to the glories of Osceola, and the tragic ending of their hero, the spirit of conservatism is engendered, and with swelling hearts they go on, on, resolute in their determination to avoid disaster, by keeping aloof from the white man. Although far from the influence of civilization, knowledge has come to these people naturally which we have painfully acquired by books. Driven to these Florida jungles after a seven years’ bloody war, here the Seminole, thrown absolutely upon his own resources, has continued to dwell. He has accepted no aid, his people have increased, and in a manner have prospered. No alms-houses are supported for their benefit. This independent Indian does not increase the expense of the jail nor the penitentiary; he is no starving Indian who must be fed at the expense of the Government. In these red sons of the forest we meet the original “real Indian,” unchanged by contact with the white man.The visitor to the “Wild West,” who complains that “the Indians do not look like the Indians of fifty years ago,” would have little ground for his complaint were he to visit the Seminoles in their marshy fastnesses. Florida can boast of one of the few tribes of “real Indians” in the United States. The present Seminole must be credited with a high sense of honor; and he can keep a pledge as well as did Massasoit. A few years ago, duringa terrific coast stormsome Indian braves asked shelter of a Florida settler. The Indians were received and entertained until the weather settled. On leaving, the chief sweeping his hand toward the broad Savannah, said, “Captain, hunt deer?” The answer was “Sometimes.” “Indian no hunt Captain’s deer,” was the rejoinder. Very little in itself, but it meant much, for since that time there has not been an Indian hunter within miles of the place.
CHIEF TALLAHASSEEMARTHA TIGERSHE YO HEETOMMY HILLMILAKEE
CHIEF TALLAHASSEEMARTHA TIGERSHE YO HEETOMMY HILLMILAKEE
Famed in song and story is the pledge of the old turbaned tribe of the Seminoles. Not more worthy are they of commemoration than their descendants of to-day. A few months ago, Billy Bowlegs and Tommy Doctor paid an unexpected visit to Kissimmee. They walked from their camp at Okeechobee Marsh, a distance of one hundred and twenty-five miles to tell their white friend that “Indians no lie.” This was all. They apparently had no other business in town, and after a few hours’ visit left as quietly as they had come. Their mission was completed, their white brother believed them, their honor was clear;they could now dance at the Green Corn Dance with merry hearts.
A few months prior to this, these Indians had promised their white friend to act as guide on a bear hunt in the Everglades. All arrangements had been made for the hunt, except to fix the time and place of meeting. This was to be done through a white settler. Later, plans for the hunt were perfected, and word was sent to the Indian village. According to their promise the Indians came to the settler’s home on the day specified, but found that the white man had left his house early in the morning with no message as to how or where the Indians should follow. The Indians, not knowing which way to go to find the party, could do nothing but return to their camp—a distance of forty or fifty miles. Subsequent developments proved that the white man wished to act as guide, and thereby earn for himself the remuneration he expected the Indians would receive.