he refuse – ”
Here the speaker paused.
For some time he stood in contemplation, his eye roving over the distant view.
As it again lighted upon the settlement a smile, not a pleasant one, curled his lip.
“Well, there is time yet,” said he, as if concluding an argument with himself. “I will once more try the golden bribe. I will use caution; but here will I build my house, come what may.”
This natural conclusion, to an egotistic mind, appeared satisfactory.
It seemed to soothe him, for he strode down the hill with a springy, elastic step, more like that of a young man than one over whose head had passed sixty eventful years.
Chapter Three.
Elias Rody
Whilst Elias Rody is pondering upon his scheme, let us tell the reader who he is.
A Georgian, who began life without any fixed idea.
His father, a wealthy merchant of Savannah, had brought him up to do nothing; and, until he had attained man’s estate, he faithfully carried out his father’s teaching.
Like many Southern lads borne to competence, he could not appreciate the dignity of labour, and accordingly loitered through his youthful life, wasting both time and patrimony before discovering that idleness is a curse.
At his father’s death, which happened upon Elias reaching his twentieth year, all the worthy merchant’s property descended to the son, and the idler suddenly found himself the possessor of a large sum of money with a sort of feeling that something was to be done with it.
He accordingly spent it.
Spent it recklessly, freely and rapidly, and then discovered that what he had done was not the thing he should have done.
He then became reformed.
Which meant, that from a liberal, open-handed, careless fellow, he changed to a cynical, cautious man.
With a small remnant of his fortune, and an inheritance from a distant relative, Elias became a man of the world, or rather, a worldly man.
In other words, he began life for a second time, and on an equally wrong basis.
Before his eyes were two classes of his equals. Reckless men with large hearts, and careful men with no hearts at all, for such was the organisation of the society surrounding him.
Of the first class he had full experience; of the second he had none whatever.
To the latter he resolved to attach himself.
It is useless wondering why this should have been. Perhaps he had never been fitted for the community of large-hearted men, and had only mixed with them through novelty, or ignorance of his own station.
Be this as it may, one thing is certain, he became before long a most exemplary member of the society he had selected for imitation. No one drove a closer bargain, saw an advantage (to himself), or could lay surer plans for securing it, than Elias Rody.
He learned, also, to control, and in every way wield influence over those around him. Power became his dream. He was ambitious of governing men.
Strange to say, this feeling was almost fatal to his prospects. We say strange, because ambition generally carves its own road, and moulds its own fortune.
Rody, however, had commenced an active career too late to arrive at much importance in the political world – that grand arena for attaining distinction.
He therefore cast about him for another field of ambitious strife, and speedily found it.
At this time throughout the state of Georgia were many planters, who, without capital to purchase additional property, found themselves daily growing poorer as their land became worn out with exhausting crops.
These men were naturally enough the grumblers and discontented spirits of the community.
Another class were those with little save a restless disposition, ever ready for any venture that may arise.
Rody, shrewd and plausible, saw in these men the very instruments for a purpose he had long thought of, and had well matured.
“If I cannot attain the object of my wishes here,” said he, to himself, “perhaps I may be successful elsewhere, if I can only persuade others to join me. These are men ready to my hand; I will take them with me, they shall be my followers; and whilst contributing their means to my end, they will look upon me as a benefactor.”
Rody, it will be seen, was a thorough egotist.
This idea becoming fixed in his mind, the rest was easy. He spoke to them of their present condition; drew a brilliant picture of what might be achieved in a new land; painted with masterly eloquence the increase of wealth and happiness his plan presented, and finely gathered around him a large number of families, with whom he started from Georgia, and settled in that section of Florida we have described.
The reason for Rody’s selection of this spot was another proof of his profound selfishness.
In his reckless, generous days, he had, on the occasion of a visit to Columbus, been the means of saving from insult and outrage a Seminole chief, who had visited the capital upon some business connected with the State Government.
This act of generosity had been impulsive; but, to the Indian, it assumed the proportion of a life-long debt.
In the fulness of his gratitude, the chief caused papers and titles to be drawn up in Rody’s favour, giving a grant of a portion of his own property lying on the shores of Tampa Bay.
The Indian chief was named Oluski.
The grant of land was the settlement we have spoken of.
Rody, at the time, made light of Oluski’s gratitude, and thrust the title into his desk without bestowing a second thought on the matter.
Now, in his days of worldly wisdom, these papers with the Seminole’s emblematic signature, were brought to light with a very different appreciation.
He saw that they represented value.
Elias Rody accordingly determined to make use of them.
It ended in his carrying a colony southward, and settling upon Tampa Bay.
The scheme originated in selfishness turned out a success.
The lands were valuable, the climate salubrious, and the colony thrived.
A bad man may sometimes do a good thing without intending it.
Rody received even more credit and renown than he had expected; and, being a shrewd man, he achieved a part of his ambition.
He was looked up to as the most important personage in the community.
Although some of the settlers did not approve of all his measures, still, their opposition was rather negative than positive, and had, as yet, found vent only in remonstrances or grumbling.
None had dared to question
