Part 11

The matter was brought to Mr. J. M. Willson, Jr., recognized as the Seminoles’ best friend among the whites.

The letter following explains the situation and is herein given:

SECRETARY RATHBUN’S STATEMENT.

“Mr. J. M. Willson, Jr., Secretary Society of Friends of Seminole Indians, Kissimmee; Fla.

“_Dear Sir_:--Replying to your letter of the 24th inst., I beg to say that about six weeks ago a Mr. ----, about whom nothing is known here, wrote to the National Museum and offered to present certain Indian relics which he had obtained in Florida, including a skeleton of an Okeechobee (not Seminole) chief. Assuming that these objects were properly acquired by him, he was notified that they would be accepted. No further word or the objects arriving, it has, therefore, been supposed that he disposed of the relics elsewhere. The heading of his letter paper indicates that he is the secretary and general manager of an amusement resort, called Island Park, at ---- Pa., and it is not impossible that the relics were taken there.

“Although I find that the name of the chief was mentioned in Mr. ----’s letter, the fact that he spoke of him as belonging to the extinct Okeechobee tribe entirely misled the Museum authorities who did not associate him with the Seminole Captain Tom Tiger, about whom so much has lately been printed in the papers until the receipt of your letter to-day.

“I cannot express too strongly my abhorrence of the act of Mr. ----, whose desecration of this grave I consider outrageous and sacrilegious. The man had no connection with this museum or any branch of the Smithsonian Institute, as he seems to have claimed several weeks before he sent in his letter.

“You can readily understand, therefore, that the museum will be only too glad to coöperate with your society in securing the return of the remains and of any objects that may have been taken with them from the grave. If they should be received at the museum they will be promptly forwarded to Florida.

“I have forwarded your letter to Mr. ----, at the address given in his letter, viz: Box 531, ----, Pa., and I have also written him.

“Trusting that this unfortunate matter may soon be satisfactorily adjusted, I am, dear, sir, very respectfully yours,

“RATHBUN, “Assistant Secretary in charge of National Museum.”

The bones of the noted Indian were quietly restored, and all trouble averted, but of the throbbing hearts of these interesting countrymen of Osceola what shall we say?

NANCY OSCEOLA.

A short time ago, the press chronicled the news that the old Seminole squaw, Nancy, living at the Big Cypress camp, was dead. The account stated that Nancy was the widow of the famous chieftain (Osceola), and that she was survived by seven children. The associated press took up the story and many accepted it as true.

It is the desire of the writer to say that Osceola’s wives (for he had two) went into captivity and were with him when he died, a captive of the United States Government, and it is safe to suppose they, with his children, were taken with the other Seminole captives to the West.

Old Nancy was the squaw of a half-brother of Osceola--hence a sister-in-law. A few years ago she consented to have her picture taken amidst a group of her great-great grandchildren. Chief Tallahassee quickly recognized the picture and said, “Old too much--eyes no see, blind ojus.” When questioned as to her identity, with the suggestion that she might be Osceola’s widow, Tallahassee showed marked disdain, “No, no, Osceola, big chief. Squaw no got one in Florida. Old Nancy Osceola’s brother’s squaw.”

BILLY BOWLEGS (CHO-FEE-HAT-CHO).

Several months ago, Cho-fee-hat-cho (Billy Bowlegs), a warrior of more than usual intelligence, made his long-promised visit to Kissimmee.

Here, away from his natural surroundings, one could study his Indian characteristics from an unprejudicial standpoint.

As a specimen of manhood, he is far above the average. Although six feet, two inches tall, he is so symmetrically proportioned that one loses sight of his height. His features are good, his hands and feet remarkably small, his voice soft and low--a characteristic of every Seminole.

His dress was the holiday attire of the tribe, his tunic or shirt he had made himself, was highly decorated with bands of narrow red,--leggins and moccasins elaborately thonged, and around his neck about a dozen gaily colored handkerchiefs, not worn for warmth, but because it is a Seminole fashion.

His large turban was embraced by a silver band, made from four silver dollars beaten with the implements which can be found at an Indian village. He wore a gold watch and chain and regulated his timepiece by the railroad clock. Billy is a fantastic dresser, but he is a loyal Seminole and a progressive one, too. He keeps posted on the markets in his own particular line of business. His pockets bulge with letters received from New York and Jacksonville buyers of skins and otter pelts. He expects no favors, pays for what he receives and keeps a promise, although a year may elapse before he is able to do so. He is often a purchasing agent for members of the band, and in his small way has a mercantile mind, buying four shawls for $1.75 that would retail at fifty cents each, he will sell out, with the satisfactory remark, “25 cents me make ’em.”

Billy ventures beyond the confines of his Everglade home, much oftener than any other of the tribe. To the stranger he is all indifference, answering: “Yes,” “No,” “Me don’t know,” as it suits him.

Billy has visited St. Augustine, and has seen the Ponce De Leon Hotel, but explained that “no get inside.” The season was not “on,” otherwise the Seminole brave would have been one of the celebrities that enter its great portals. New York and Washington do honor to dukes and counts, and this Aboriginal American Knight is no less a Prince of the Everglades.

He has made several visits to Kissimmee, hence is well known to the white people. At the ringing of the church bells on Sunday morning it was explained to the Indian that they were to call the people to the church, so that the preacher might tell them of the white man’s God. With the inquiry, “You go?” to his host, and receiving an answer in the affirmative, Billy said, “Me go too.”

He was escorted to the chapel and through the long sermon was a model of propriety and conformed perfectly with the customs of the church. He expressed himself later as liking the music, but remarked that the “preacher talked too fast.”

From time to time colored pictures from Sunday School charts have been given or mailed to the Indians and Billy reports, “Indians got ’em,” keeping them with their treasures in boxes or trunks.

Blue backed spelling books had been sent to these Indians, for the spelling book is the Seminole’s ideal in literature, and Billy reported that the books were in good order--and Indian boys, spell “littly bit.”

Who shall say there is no hope for the civilization of this picturesque tribe?

Not a hair’s breadth will this Indian diverge from the truth. Even to the simple question as to when he would visit his white friends again, he replied, “Six moons; me don’t know, maybe ten moons; six moons, me say--no come, white man say, ‘Billy Bowlegs lock-a-dox ojus!’ (lie too much).”

Billy is grateful for favors shown him and on his return from a visit always sends some remembrance. A letter usually accompanies the present, and the following is a unique specimen of his literary ability:

“Indian Town, Fla., J. M. Willson, Jr., Kissimmee.

I write you Letter. I send you Big Alligator Feet skin. Big Alligator 12 ft. long 4½ inches. This time Indian no sick. All Good Well Ojus. You write to me Letter. Your Friend

Mr. Billy Bowlegs.”

In his signature, Billy always uses the prefix, “Mr.”

At another time on Billy’s return to his Okeechobee home, a letter was received which read:

“MY GOOD FRIEND: “Littly white birds me send. Indians all well.”

The egrets, snowy white and beautiful as a poem, came in a crate made of green palm stems, with a door fastened by buck skin hinges and buck skin catch, the whole a marvel of neatness and ingenuity.

The birds were at once given the freedom of the lawn, where they have been a constant surprise, in showing how full of confidence, how charming the wild heron can be made under habits of domestication. They love companionship and at meal time they station themselves like two sentinels, at the dining room piazza. Here they stand, with their long necks craning into the door-way, alert and tense, waiting for their beef to be thrown to them.

These white plumed egrets, with their dark, piercing eyes, their spotless white figures adorned in their bridal veil of long silken plumes, make a picture that an artist may envy.

It is a pleasing and encouraging fact that on all occasions when the Seminoles visit white settlements they are warmly welcomed by the whites and treated with the utmost respect and many times entertained as one would celebrities.

The _Florida Times-Union_ always breaks a lance in favor of the Seminole. During a carnival season in Jacksonville, Billy Bowlegs visited the city, and of his visit an editorial read:

“Jacksonville has among her guests this week one of the most representative Indians in America to-day--the highest type of what is known as the savage tribe.... Billy was a conspicuous figure in last night’s parade; he rode in one of the most striking and effective floats of the parade, that of the Florida East Coast R. R. Company.... This float bore the distinction of conveying the noble figure of this Seminole chief and thus the only one with a member of the real and single strictly American race. Billy Bowlegs is no savage, but a magnificent specimen of physical manhood, with a dignity, a reserve, a keen intelligence and an honest heart--a representative of that forlorn remnant who regard honor with commendable sacredness.”

Billy visited the _Times-Union_ office, and took the keenest interest in the mechanical equipments for making a newspaper.

A fac-simile of Billy’s writing appeared in the paper at this time and, a year later, it made an amusing picture to witness Billy’s expression when he was shown the fac-simile; the clipping having been taken from the paper at the time. Very quickly memory came to him and he said, “Me know; my name write big paper, Jacksonville.”

Such names as Tom Tiger, Doctor Tommy, Wild Cat and Billy Bowlegs, are white man’s names for the Indians. Each Indian has his Indian name, which is significant of some family or personal characteristic, and which contains the root word of the gens to which the Indian belongs. During the Indian’s visit he expressed a wish to have the Seminole names of a number of his people written down so that he might make a copy and carry home with him. Certainly this young brave could not be called stupid or sluggish. Knowing that the information was sought for the purpose of putting it into a book, so that “the people could read about the good Indians of Florida,” he showed the greatest interest in the questions, making his answers direct and truthful.

With the patience of a sphinx this Indian answered questions till dark. When asked if he were tired, he answered, “Tired ojus,” although his native politeness had not permitted him to show any special restlessness at the tedious afternoon’s questioning. An air of deepest solemnity would rest upon his face until he was assured his meaning was thoroughly understood. During his visit he expressed an eagerness to learn, and followed a copy with remarkable exactness. With the desire to read and write, however, ended all ambition to be like the white man.

Every effort was made to please so rare a visitor, favors were shown him, in fact he was treated as a most honored guest, yet this son of the forest received it all with a silent dignity that would have graced a monarch. When he was ready to leave he quietly arose, remarking, “Me hi-e-pus” (go), and noiselessly passed out of the house.

It is a disputed question whether a wild Indian of pure blood has ever been permanently civilized. One of the missionaries of the Osage band once said that “it took fifteen years to get a blanket off Joseph Pawnee-o-passhee, Chief of the Osage tribe, and it took Joseph just fifteen minutes to get it on him again.”

RELIGION.

A pretty tradition among the Seminoles is that a beautiful race of Indians, whose women they call the daughters of the sun, reside among the swamps and lakes of the O-kee-fee-ne-kee wilderness and live in uninterrupted felicity upon islands of eternal verdure, feasting upon the luxuries of the islands, but inaccessible to the approach of human footsteps.

Unlike the child of Africa, who lives in a world of ghosts and goblins, the Seminole is not superstitious. He has his traditions, his mythologies, and on these are based his history. He obeys the Great Spirit, but it is not from any spirit of fear; it is the teaching of his fathers, and becomes the duty of the Indian. The religion of the Seminole has been without question the most difficult of all their history to reach.

The Florida Indians believe in a Supreme Being; in the immortality of the soul; in the future existence and the resurrection of the dead. Reverence, too, is one of his distinguishing features. His language contains no oath, nor any word to express disrespect to the Great Spirit. A missionary will receive most respectful attention for their reverence to God will not permit them to laugh at His messenger. The Seminole qualifies the Supreme Being as the “Giver and Taker away of Life.” The Aztec designated, as the “God by Whom We Live.”

Their conception of the creation of man is very unique. “Long time ago, E-shock-e-tom-isee (God) took seeds and scattered them all around in a rich valley bordering a river. By and by, God saw fingers coming out of the ground and great people--heap too many came up from out of the sand. Some went to the river and washed, washed, washed too much; it made them weak and pale; this was the es-ta-chat-tee (white race). Others went to the river and washed not too much, they returned full of courage, strong, heap; this was the es-ta-had-kee (red race). The remainder no wash, lazy too much, es-ta-lus-tee (black man).”

In an extract taken from an old history printed in London in 1776, descriptive of the native inhabitants of Florida, these people are described as idolaters, worshipping the sun and moon--the worship consisting of saluting the rising sun, chanting his praise and offering sacrifices to the planet four times a year. They believe that the sun was the parent of life.

Whatever may have been the ancient rites of this race, the present people seem to have outlived all remembrance of them as well as of their early ancestors themselves. A glimmering of the Christian religion, no doubt instilled into the race more than two hundred years ago by the Franciscan priests, still seems to linger among the descendants of to-day and constitutes their religion largely. These rites they observe as faithfully as they did a century ago; and yet in all that time they have received no further teaching, and have no personal knowledge of the civilizing effects of the gospel of Christ. In the same length of time where would have been the religion of the Caucasian race, without the divine word, and without the influence of men who have devoted their lives to the cause of Christianity? The Seminoles believe in God (E-shock-e-tom-issee); that God had a son (E-shock-e-tom-issee-e-po-chee) who came on earth and lived with the Indians “long time ago to make them good Indians.”

One is tempted upon an intimate knowledge of this race to wonder whether the Son of Man appeared to the Indian also; could not the Light of the World in some mysterious way have touched the soul of this innocent people? The more one studies the Seminole, the more one wonders. Christ, according to their traditions, was killed by the “wicked Spaniards” when they first came to this continent. Since that time it has been the duty of the medicine men to teach the Indians “to think with God,” and to impart the Great Spirit’s wishes to his red children. Each tribe has two or more medicine men who act as priests as well as doctors. These men are highly honored by the tribe, because they believe them to be directed by the Supreme Being. Just before the festival of the Green Corn Dance the medicine men leave the tribe, and going to a secret spot, there build a lodge. Here they fast for twenty-four hours, after which they take a potion, made of herbs, which causes a deep sleep to come over them. It is now that God appears to them in a dream and tells them how to make the Indians “think good,” and how they shall prepare the herbs for medicine. Returning in time to prepare for the great feast they occupy a most prominent position in the dance circle. The Seminole tradition of Christ’s coming to live with the Indians, is that the Son of God stopped at the most southern point of Florida, at which place he was met by three Indians who carried him around the Southern Peninsula on their shoulders, while he sowed the seeds of the “koonti” root, which was God’s gift to the red men. (This koonti is a wild cassava and found only in the extreme southern portion of Florida.) According to the legend, the Indians were in a starving condition. The ground was parched, no corn grew and the game had all left. During the long time in which the Indians waited for the koonti to grow, God rained down bread “heap, plenty,” which the Indians gathered and ate. In describing this bread, which came down in the rain each morning, the Indian illustrated in this wise: “Littly bread, white man’s biscuit all the same, good, every Indian eat plenty.” The Mosaic account of the manna from heaven is evident in this legend.

The Seminole believes in a future state, In-li-Ke-ta (heaven or home). To this place do the good Indians go after death. Here they may “hunt, hunt, hunt, plenty deer, plenty turkey, plenty bear find, and cool water ojus (plenty) all the time. Bad Indians after big sleep hunt, hunt, hunt, hunt deer, turkey, bear--no find ’em, hot water drink all the time.”

The Indians’ religion, for we may justly call it so, is sacred to him, and it is difficult to get him to reveal his inmost thoughts. His idea of the Bible is vague, because he understands it as the work of man. “White man got book, him good one day, he steal, cheat next day; book no good. Injun no make book, he no see hunting ground, him no go and come back. Big sleep, no come back, him no lie about it. Me think good Injun find hunting ground all right; me think me find it. White man, big sleep comes, me think no find In-li-Ke-ta (heaven) easy.”

After death the body of a Seminole is immediately prepared for burial, the corpse being clad in new clothes. When a chief dies one cheek is painted red, the other one is painted black. The rest of the tribe do not have the face painted for burial. It will be recalled that Osceola, with the death struggle already upon him, rose in his bed, and “with his own hand painted one-half of his face, his neck and his throat, his wrists, the back of his hands and the handle of his knife red, with vermillion,” the marks of a war chief.

At sunrise, on the day following a death, the body is carried by two Indian men to the place of interment. The corpse is placed on a base made of logs with the face to the rising sun. If the deceased be a warrior, his rifle and accoutrements are placed by his side, “that he may be fully armed on his arrival at the happy hunting grounds.” A bottle of Sof-ka is buried with him that he may eat on his long journey. Around the body is built a pen of logs sloping till they close at the top and thickly covered with palmetto leaves. The protection is to prevent the wild beasts from despoiling. With faces now turned reverently to the rising sun, they commend into the keeping of the Great Spirit the bivouac of the dead. The bearers of the dead then make a fire at each end of the grave, and the mourners return to camp, the women loudly wailing and tearing their hair. At the death of a husband the widow must live with disheveled hair for one year. Her long black tresses are worn over her face and shoulders, and she presents a forsaken, pitiable appearance. At the end of twelve moons her period of mourning is over, and she may again arrange her hair, don her beads, which have been removed during her period of mourning, and may marry again. The husband, on the death of his squaw, may not hunt for four days, and for a period of four moons must appear in mourning, which consists in the removal of his neck handkerchiefs, and the laying aside of his turban. When a death occurs in one band or settlement, the news is not communicated to the other bands until such time as it is convenient for a messenger to be sent.

BROUGHT BACK.

About fifteen years ago, one young Indian brave, Ko-nip-hat-cho by name, stepped beyond the Seminole law and asked permission to live with a white man at Fort Myers, Florida. He was eagerly received by the gentleman, and was taught much of the English language and civilized mode of living. But for a Seminole to so far forget the teachings of his fathers, as to wish to affiliate with the white race, caused the greatest dissatisfaction in the Indian camps. “Talk after talk” was “made” by the chiefs as they met in council concerning the actions of this bold young Indian. He was repeatedly warned to return to the tribe. They even threatened to kill him if he refused to do so. At length, however, artifice succeeded, where all else had failed. The daughter of Charles Osceola was promised to him for a wife if he would but return to his people and once more don the costume of his race. No Indian girl in all the nation could boast of the beauty of Nan-ces-o-wee; damask and dark, with features as refined as the Caucasian, a form superb in its symmetry, a step as graceful as the doe’s, a spirit as fearless as the falcon, such is the woman who moved Ko-nip-hat-cho from his foreign alliance. Ko-nip-hat-cho has four children, is contented and happy in his forest home, and with his knowledge is an important personage among his tribe. His wife is the belle of the Seminole nation. All the Indian braves say, “Ko-nip-hat-cho’s squaw _heap purty_,” and in their native tongue declare, “Nan-ces-o-wee most beautiful of all the Seminole squaws.”

MOUNDS.