CHITTA BECOMES A SEMINOLE

In order to account for the presence of the canoe of which Réné and
Has-se had caught a glimpse, as it darted in among the black shadows of
the cypress forest in the great swamp, we must go back to the night
that followed the Feast of Ripe Corn.

After Chitta struck Has-se the blow that stretched him stunned and
bleeding on the ground, he sprang into the forest, and gliding swiftly
among the stately trunks of the solemn pines, made his way to the
river. On its bank were drawn up many canoes, over which Chitta
glanced hastily, but with a practised eye. In a moment he selected one
that promised to combine lightness with speed, noiselessly launched it,
and stepped into it. Grasping a paddle, he headed the stolen craft
down the river, and was quickly buried in the mist that rose from its
surface.

As the unhappy lad pursued his solitary way down the river, neither
knowing nor caring where he was going, so long as he placed distance
between himself and those whom he knew would shortly search for him,
his mind was filled with bitter reflections. He felt as though he
hated all men, but especially Has-se and the white lad, who, he felt
certain, had taught the former the trick of wrestling, by means of
which the games had been won.

In destroying the great storehouse, with its winter's supply of
provisions of his tribe, his desire had not been so much to injure his
own people as the white men, whom he knew were also dependent upon it
for food, and of whom Has-se's friend was one who would thus suffer.