Florida -- History -- Huguenot colony, 1562-1565 -- Juvenile fiction
The Seminoles had uttered their yell of disappointed rage at seeing, by
the moonlight, the flashing paddles of those canoes that had already
departed; for they did not at first discover the three who had lingered
to destroy or render useless the canoes of their own fleet. As these
sprang into the only one they had left uninjured, and shot out from the
shore, the Seminoles uttered loud cries of exultation, and rushed to
the hiding-place of their fleet, in order that they might follow and
capture these three who were now so widely separated from their fellows.
When they discovered what had been done to their canoes, and that they
were indeed useless, their fury knew no bounds, and they sent flight
after flight of arrows whizzing after those who had thus outwitted
them. Many of these struck the canoe; but all, save one, fell as
harmless to its occupants as so many drops of rain.
The one barbed shaft that sped so truly on its fatal mission was
delivered with all the strength of venomous hate, just as the canoe was
passing out of the lagoon, and beyond bow-shot. It struck the gentle
Has-se between the shoulders, and, piercing his body, protruded its
keen point from his breast. With a sharp cry the poor lad dropped his
paddle, and sank into the bottom of the boat.
At this moment the others dared not stop; but, with hearts torn with
anguish at seeing their best and bravest thus stricken, they paddled
on, until they had rejoined their party and passed beyond the reach of
Seminole pursuit.
A few hours later, on a grassy point that projected into the river,
which was flecked by glints of the sunlight the lad had loved so well,
and which sifted down upon him through the moss-draped branches of a
venerable oak, Has-se (the Sunbeam) lay dying. Beside him, and holding
one of his hands, sat Rene de Veaux, so numbed by this great and sudden
sorrow that even the comfort of tears was denied him, and his eyes were
dry and strained.
"Oh Has-se, Has-se!" he cried. "To think that it is for me that thy
life is given, and that for my sake only thou art lying here thus
stricken to thy death!"
"Grieve not so sorely, Ta-lah-lo-ko, my brother. A brave warrior fears
not death in any form; and when it comes to him while he is truly
performing his duty, it is to be hailed with joy for the honor it
confers."
"But thy life was so full of promise, and they whom thou lovest will
miss thee so terribly."
"If my life had promise, then is that promise fulfilled in my death.
For those left to mourn I am truly grieved. It is for them that, while
I am still able to speak, I would ask a favor of thee, Ta-lah-lo-ko."
"Name it, my brother, and if it be a thing within my power to compass,
it shall be granted, even according to thy wish," answered Rene.
A grateful smile lighted the face of the dying lad, and Rene felt a
faint pressure of the hand clasped in his, as Has-se said, almost in a
whisper, so weak was he becoming,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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