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I
was
not
insensible
to
the
praise
bestowed
upon
me
,
and
enjoyed
,
especially
,
my
triumph
over
Taydem
,
whose
half-malicious
ridicule
had
stung
my
pride
.
From
this
time
the
entire
control
of
bringing
the
lumber
to
Lamourie
was
placed
in
my
hands
until
the
contract
was
fulfilled
.
Indian
Creek
,
in
its
whole
length
,
flows
through
a
magnificent
forest
.
There
dwells
on
its
shore
a
tribe
of
Indians
,
a
remnant
of
the
Chickasaws
or
Chickopees
,
if
I
remember
rightly
.
They
live
in
simple
huts
,
ten
or
twelve
feet
square
,
constructed
of
pine
poles
and
covered
with
bark
.
They
subsist
principally
on
the
flesh
of
the
deer
,
the
coon
,
and
opossum
,
all
of
which
are
plenty
in
these
woods
.
Sometimes
they
exchange
venison
for
a
little
corn
and
whisky
with
the
planters
on
the
bayous
.
Their
usual
dress
is
buckskin
breeches
and
calico
hunting
shirts
of
fantastic
colors
,
buttoned
from
belt
to
chin
.
They
wear
brass
rings
on
their
wrists
,
and
in
their
ears
and
noses
.
The
dress
of
the
squaws
is
very
similar
.
They
are
fond
of
dogs
and
horses
--
owning
many
of
the
latter
,
of
a
small
,
tough
breed
--
and
are
skillful
riders
.
Their
bridles
,
girths
and
saddles
were
made
of
raw
skins
of
animals
;
their
stirrups
of
a
certain
kind
of
wood
.
Mounted
astride
their
ponies
,
men
and
women
,
I
have
seen
them
dash
out
into
the
woods
at
the
utmost
of
their
speed
,
following
narrow
winding
paths
,
and
dodging
trees
,
in
a
manner
that
eclipsed
the
most
miraculous
feats
of
civilized
equestrianism
.
Circling
away
in
various
directions
,
the
forest
echoing
and
re-echoing
with
their
whoops
,
they
would
presently
return
at
the
same
dashing
,
headlong
speed
with
which
they
started
.
Their
village
was
on
Indian
Creek
,
known
as
Indian
Castle
,
but
their
range
extended
to
the
Sabine
River
.
Occasionally
a
tribe
from
Texas
would
come
over
on
a
visit
,
and
then
there
was
indeed
a
carnival
in
the
"
Great
Pine
Woods
.
"
Chief
of
the
tribe
was
Cascalla
;
second
in
rank
,
John
Baltese
,
his
son-in-law
;
with
both
of
whom
,
as
with
many
others
of
the
tribe
,
I
became
acquainted
during
my
frequent
voyages
down
the
creek
with
rafts
.
Sam
and
myself
would
often
visit
them
when
the
day
's
task
was
done
.
They
were
obedient
to
the
chief
;
the
word
of
Cascalla
was
their
law
.
They
were
a
rude
but
harmless
people
,
and
enjoyed
their
wild
mode
of
life
.
They
had
little
fancy
for
the
open
country
,
the
cleared
lands
on
the
shores
of
the
bayous
,
but
preferred
to
hide
themselves
within
the
shadows
of
the
forest
.
They
worshiped
the
Great
Spirit
,
loved
whisky
,
and
were
happy
.
On
one
occasion
I
was
present
at
a
dance
,
when
a
roving
herd
from
Texas
had
encamped
in
their
village
.
The
entire
carcass
of
a
deer
was
roasting
before
a
large
fire
,
which
threw
its
light
a
long
distance
among
the
trees
under
which
they
were
assembled
.
When
they
had
formed
in
a
ring
,
men
and
squaws
alternately
,
a
sort
of
Indian
fiddle
set
up
an
indescribable
tune
.
It
was
a
continuous
,
melancholy
kind
of
wavy
sound
,
with
the
slightest
possible
variation
.
At
the
first
note
,
if
indeed
there
was
more
than
one
note
in
the
whole
tune
,
they
circled
around
,
trotting
after
each
other
,
and
giving
utterance
to
a
guttural
,
sing-song
noise
,
equally
as
nondescript
as
the
music
of
the
fiddle
.
At
the
end
of
the
third
circuit
,
they
would
stop
suddenly
,
whoop
as
if
their
lungs
would
crack
,
then
break
from
the
ring
,
forming
in
couples
,
man
and
squaw
,
each
jumping
backwards
as
far
as
possible
from
the
other
,
then
forwards
--
which
graceful
feat
having
been
twice
or
thrice
accomplished
,
they
would
form
in
a
ring
,
and
go
trotting
round
again
.
The
best
dancer
appeared
to
be
considered
the
one
who
could
whoop
the
loudest
,
jump
the
farthest
,
and
utter
the
most
excruciating
noise
.
At
intervals
,
one
or
more
would
leave
the
dancing
circle
,
and
going
to
the
fire
,
cut
from
the
roasting
carcass
a
slice
of
venison
.
In
a
hole
,
shaped
like
a
mortar
,
cut
in
the
trunk
of
a
fallen
tree
,
they
pounded
corn
with
a
wooden
pestle
,
and
of
the
meal
made
cake
.
Alternately
they
danced
and
ate
.
Thus
were
the
visitors
from
Texas
entertained
by
the
dusky
sons
and
daughters
of
the
Chicopees
,
and
such
is
a
description
,
as
I
saw
it
,
of
an
Indian
ball
in
the
Pine
Woods
of
Avoyelles
.
In
the
autumn
,
I
left
the
mills
,
and
was
employed
at
the
opening
.
One
day
the
mistress
was
urging
Ford
to
procure
a
loom
,
in
order
that
Sally
might
commence
weaving
cloth
for
the
winter
garments
of
the
slaves
.
He
could
not
imagine
where
one
was
to
be
found
,
when
I
suggested
that
the
easiest
way
to
get
one
would
be
to
make
it
,
informing
him
at
the
same
time
,
that
I
was
a
sort
of
"
Jack
at
all
trades
,
"
and
would
attempt
it
,
with
his
permission
.
It
was
granted
very
readily
,
and
I
was
allowed
to
go
to
a
neighboring
planter
's
to
inspect
one
before
commencing
the
undertaking
.
At
length
it
was
finished
and
pronounced
by
Sally
to
be
perfect
.
She
could
easily
weave
her
task
of
fourteen
yards
,
milk
the
cows
,
and
have
leisure
time
besides
each
day
.
It
worked
so
well
,
I
was
continued
in
the
employment
of
making
looms
,
which
were
taken
down
to
the
plantation
on
the
bayou
.
At
this
time
one
John
M.
Tibeats
,
a
carpenter
,
came
to
the
opening
to
do
some
work
on
master
's
house
.
I
was
directed
to
quit
the
looms
and
assist
him
.
For
two
weeks
I
was
in
his
company
,
planning
and
matching
boards
for
ceiling
,
a
plastered
room
being
a
rare
thing
in
the
parish
of
Avoyelles
.
John
M.
Tibeats
was
the
opposite
of
Ford
in
all
respects
.
He
was
a
small
,
crabbed
,
quick-tempered
,
spiteful
man
.
He
had
no
fixed
residence
that
I
ever
heard
of
,
but
passed
from
one
plantation
to
another
,
wherever
he
could
find
employment
.
He
was
without
standing
in
the
community
,
not
esteemed
by
white
men
,
nor
even
respected
by
slaves
.
He
was
ignorant
,
withal
,
and
of
a
revengeful
disposition
.
He
left
the
parish
long
before
I
did
,
and
I
know
not
whether
he
is
at
present
alive
or
dead
.
Certain
it
is
,
it
was
a
most
unlucky
day
for
me
that
brought
us
together
.
