Osceola

Copyright © 2012 by Thom H. Weekley.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Certain characters in this work are historical figures, and certain events portrayed did take place. However, this is a work of fiction. All of the other characters, names, and events as well as all places, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4759-3858-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-3859-3 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012912463

iUniverse rev. date: 07/10/2012

Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

A Seminole Family

Chapter Two

The Old One

Chapter Three

The Evening Meal

Chapter Four

Back to the Swamp

Chapter Five

The Fountain of Youth?

Chapter Six

Dade’s Massacre

Chapter Seven

The Battle of the Withlacoochee

Chapter Eight

Social Life on

the Reservation

Chapter Nine

A Day Out On the

Prairie and the Battle of the Wahoo Swamp

Chapter Ten

The Fever

Chapter Eleven

Treachery in

the Palmettoes

Chapter Twelve

What Happened to Osceola

Chapter Thirteen

Abei’ka

Chapter Fourteen

The Battle of Okeechobee

Chapter Fifteen

The Interregnum

Chapter Sixteen

The Third Seminole War

Chapter Seventeen

The Magic Spring

Chapter Eighteen

The Civil War in

the Glades

Chapter Nineteen

Living in the Glades

Chapter Twenty

Grandfather at

the Hospital

Chapter Twenty-One

The Construction of

a Home

Chapter Twenty-Two

Wildcat’s Murder

Chapter Twenty-Three

The Great Depression

in the Glades

Chapter Twenty-Four

World War II

and Osceola

Chapter Twenty-Five

The Seminole Way Of Life

Chapter Twenty-Six

The Dying Glades

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Perry’s Last Day

With Chief Billie

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank all the people that made this work possible. The history of the Seminole Indians was derived from my many years as a teacher in Sumter and Lake Counties. The end of the book was the work of the late Marjorie Stoneman Douglas in her book, The Everglades: River of Grass. I would also like to thank my proofreader, Amy Marchant McEwen, for proofing this tome and getting out most of the mistakes a beginner writer would make. Finally, I would like to thank my readers for their support during my work as a writer and putting up with my inexperience as such. Thank you, very much. Now, on with the story…

Chapter One

A Seminole Family

It was a long drive for Perry Thompson, a student at Florida State University, from Tallahassee to Alligator Alley off of Interstate 75, and his butt and his back began to ache. He was in his 2006 Chevy Colorado pickup truck wishing he had taken the advice of the Chancellor to use a State vehicle instead.

When he was 37 miles on the Alley, he slowed to a creep, and viewed his new temporary home from the side of the road. There were two concrete block homes and two chickees, large open-air sheds made from the trunks of cabbage palms and reeds from the swamp on a high-pitched roof. ‘Surely they don’t expect me to stay in one of those chickees,’ he mused.

The reason for his visit was to write a story about an old Seminole who was reputed to be the son of the great chief, Osceola. Osceola was a principle figure in the Second Seminole War from 1835 to 1842, so he couldn’t be that old. That would make him at least 180 years old. ‘Shit,’ he said to himself, ‘How could a man live to be that old?’

As he drove into the driveway he saw two Indian children playing marbles in the dirt. He parked his car, got out and walked toward the boys and said, Hello, my name is Perry Thompson.

But before they could reply, an old, plump Seminole woman came out of one of the homes dressed in typical Seminole bright colors and as barefooted as the day she was born. She said, We been expecting you, Mr. Thompson. Come over here and sit down.

The boys went back to playing marbles.

My name is Annie Osceola and you are Perry Thompson, I presume.

Yes ma’am, that name fits me real well these days.

You are here to interview old Billy Osceola.

Yes ma’am. I hear that he is over 180 years old. Is that true?

More like 183 years old, but I’ll let him explain that to you.

As they made small talk about the weather, a short, husky man dressed in a multicolored Seminole shirt walked up. He, too, was barefooted. This is my son, Charley Osceola, she said with a look of pride in her face.

He stuck out his hand and said, Don’t worry about my shoes. I been rasslin’ alligators for the tourists down the road apiece. They like us Indians to look primitive, so I shuck my East Indian sandals and give them what they want. I usually wear my boots when I’m workin’ cows. I hear that you are going to write a story about the old one in the family. What again is your name?

Perry Thompson. Yes, sir, I am here at your request to write about the old gentleman.

Wrong on both counts. You are here to write a story at the request of the old man, he said as he laughed, and I am not a sir. I’m just Charley. Those are my two boys over there playing with their marbles. Come over here, Winston and Jerry. There’s somebody I want you to meet.

They jumped up and rushed over at their father’s command. This here is a student at the Florida State University. I want you to make him welcome to our humble clan.

Are you the one who rides that funky horse out on the field at the beginning of a football game? No Seminole would be caught dead riding a horse like that. We ride marshtackies in the swamp here.

No, I am not. But the one who does is a friend of mine.

I wanted you to meet this man to learn about college and how it can improve your life here and the lives of all the Seminoles in the swamp. He turned toward Perry and said, I want you to tell them how hard the studying is at college and how it is important to get their lessons at the schoolhouse now so they will be ready for the challenge.

A woman stepped out of the house and yelled, DINNER!

That would be my wife, Belle, Charley said with a grin.

When do I get to meet the old man? Perry asked.

Oh, I’ll go get him in the morning. It’s too late to go out into the swamp tonight, Charley retorted.

As they walked into the house, Perry saw it was spotlessly clean. A large dinner table was set up in the middle of the living room with china and silver sets that would please even the Queen of England. Belle then brought out the repast: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, collard greens, sweet iced tea and milk for the boys. Don’t let this finery fool you, Mr. Thompson; most of the time we eat off of paper plates. But you are our special guest, and I wanted you to feel special tonight.

After supper Charley put Perry up on one of the chickees, much to his surprise. Because they didn’t have central air and heat, they all slept in the other chickee with the other family members. He found out that there was an electrical outlet in each one of them so Charley plugged in an ancient fan that would blow on Perry all night long. He was given two warm blankets to fend off the cool autumn air at night. These were atop a blowup mattress that they had prepared for him earlier. Once he settled in, he had no trouble going to sleep. A lullaby of frog noise was his natural sleeping song. Before he went to sleep he asked the Lord to show these people the way to air conditioning.

The next morning Perry was awakened by the sound of a cock crowing right next to his bed at the break of dawn. He reached out with his arm and swatted his new alarm clock, but the resolute chicken just readjusted himself to another part of the shelter and started crowing again, out of harm’s way. When he finally gave up and slipped out of his bed, he noticed that there was a great deal of energy already about. Charley had long gone in their dugout canoe to fetch the old man, and the children had already eaten their breakfast. They were busy getting ready for the school bus ride to the reservation school.

Perry wandered over to Belle who was outside washing clothes. Did you sleep well, Mr. Thompson? she said as she looked up from her ancient wringer dryer.

I slept beautifully until that damned chicken woke me up, he said.

That would be old Henry, our alarm clock chicken. He always knows who is sleeping late and makes a special effort to get them awake in the morning while we are working. I’m sorry if he startled you, but you may be here a while, so you better get used to him. I have a feeling when you meet the old man that you may wish to get up a little earlier in the morning, though. Did you get a visit from Mittens last night?

Who or what is Mittens?

That’s our mouser cat. I saw her working around your bed last night before I went to sleep and I thought that maybe she had cuddled up to you. She is another one you need to get used to.

Out from the other house came the most beautiful girl Perry had ever seen in his short life. Who is that pretty lady? he beckoned to Belle.

That would be Angela, Charley’s baby sister. In fact, we all call her Baby Sister instead of Angela. Would you like to meet her?

You bet I would! Perry answered anxiously.

Angela! Come over here. There’s someone I want you to meet.

The young lady walked over and Perry could see the full extent of her beauty. She was tall, like Perry, and wore her hair long and straight so that it flowed almost to her backside. He noticed the cute little white sandals with flowers on the top rim. When she smiled, he saw that her teeth were perfectly white and straight. Her complexion was flawless as were her beautiful brown eyes. It was love at first sight as far as Perry was concerned.

Angela is a senior at the high school in Dania. She is studying to become a doctor so she can return to the reservation and practice her medicine here. She also hopes to complete the training of a Seminole medicine person so she can treat the old ones with modern medicines as well as traditional ones. Angela, this is Perry Thompson, a student at Florida State University who has come here to write the words of the Old One.

She extended her delicate hand toward Perry and said, I’m glad to meet you. Belle, I must get going if I’m to make my first class. She turned back to Perry and said, I’ll see you this evening at supper and we can talk some more about college. She walked away and got into her car, a new Mustang, cranked up the motor, and drove away out onto the Alley.

Belle, she is beautiful.

Back off, white boy, Belle said with a smile that had some degree of seriousness to it. We have plans for her to finish her schooling and come back to work on the reservation. Listen, the birds are chirping in the swamp. That means that Charley has returned with the Old One. Now you finally get to meet the first 183-year-old man in history. Let’s go down to the landing and greet them in style.

Chapter Two

The Old One

They went down to a landing that connected to a stream in the Great Everglades swamp. Perry saw the two men coming up, Charley standing and poling the dugout canoe through the water and the old man sitting in the front of the canoe wrapped in a blanket. Both were barefooted. When they got to the edge of the landing, the Old One reached out to grab a cypress root to steady the boat while Charley leaped off of