took Pa’s mare’s bridle and said, “Asa, George, and I will put the horses up.”
Asa and George were coming at a full run from the fields. Pa didn’t say anything. He and Ma just walked on in the house with their arm around each other. It was the most public emotion I have ever seen them show for each other. Also, Pa usually insisted that each man tend his own horse. I was happy he didn’t that time.
The other kids stayed out at the horse pen with me. After we put the horses up, I sat my brothers down by the barn and we talked for most of an hour. They were anxious to know everything and I was giving Ma and Pa time alone. I also had some Indian things for each of them: bows and arrows, hatchets, knives, and moccasins. Those, some guns, and some Indian ponies we took and brought home was the sum total of our remuneration for fighting in the war.
After spending the afternoon and part of the night talking, we were up early and back to farming the next morning shortly after daylight. Asa and George had done a good job but they just couldn’t keep it all going. Pa lasted at that for three days. He then saw everything was getting in shape. He also had some other things to tend to and he communicated that at supper the third night.
Pa said, “There’s some property I want to look at. I’ll be leaving tomorrow for two or three days. I want you boys to tend to things while I’m gone.”
It was obvious he had discussed this with Ma because she didn’t have anything to say. Pa then told us all the things he wanted us to do. Things were back to normal.
Over the next couple of months we harvested and stored the corn, fodder, potatoes, beans, and peas. Those things were mostly preserved in their natural state. Other than those Ma was going to cook daily, the peas and beans were allowed to dry on the vine before they were picked for shelling and storing. They could then be stored in containers for extended periods of time. We also planted some late crops: collards, sweet potatoes, pumpkins, and beans.
At that time of year we hunted for any meat we needed instead of killing our own animals. Hog killing was usually done in November, about the same time syrup was made. Shoulders, hams, and sausages were then smoked and left hanging in the smokehouse throughout the winter. Bacon and some other parts of the hog were salted down to preserve them. Also, Ma made bags of hog’s-head cheese and left them hanging in the house after each hog killing. Though the smoked meat lasted throughout the year, we also hunted for fresh meat periodically. Alligators, deer, raccoon, turtles, turkeys, wild hog, bear, and an occasional buffalo were the usual wild game fare. Even though she had at times in the past when food was in short supply, Ma didn’t ordinarily cook opossum or buzzard.
After the crops were gathered, we began mending the fences and the roofs on the buildings. We also worked constantly at clearing new ground for planting, or at least getting the stumps and roots out of the fields we had been planting. It was an ongoing way of life. It seemed it would take a lifetime to get all the roots out of a field. Many times I’ve broken a plow point, and the mule has been jerked almost to her knees, when the plow point caught a root in a field I thought was cleared of them.
During the summer and fall, while we were doing these things, the Indians were on the move. Their homes in west Florida had been destroyed and they had been driven out of that area, so they mostly lived a nomadic life as they sought farmland and home sites in north and east Florida. In relative terms, northeast Florida was becoming crowded as the Red Stick Creeks and Miccosukee, and the blacks living among the Indians, sought new homes there.
Indian raids into Georgia decreased during that time. Oh, there were raids by small bands of Indians, which resulted in some stolen livestock, but nothing on the scale there had been. On the other hand, raids by white Americans into Spanish Florida for the purpose of taking Indian livestock, and gathering up any blacks they found for use as slaves, continued, even increased. Also, the incidence of Americans moving into Florida to take land and establish small communities or individual farms increased.
In late July Ma had a baby girl and named her Nancy after one of our aunts.
In October of 1818, the Spanish Minister, Luis de Onis, and the United States Secretary of State, John Quincy Adams, started negotiations about Florida being taken over by the United States. These negotiations dragged on because both sides had several other things they wanted agreed to at the same time. Also, there was the matter of the land grants the king of Spain had given to his friends just prior to starting the negotiations. The United States didn’t feel these grants should be honored.
Except for one occurrence, our farm was spared from the various small raids going on during that time. In early November, Asa came in from checking his trap line and reported some trouble.
He said, “Pa, some of our woods cows have been rounded up and driven off. From the tracks, it looked like twenty or so cows and three riders.”
Woods cows are cows that are left to run loose in the woods and forage as best they can, as opposed to milk cows, which are kept on pasture, fodder, or hay, and some grain.
Pa asked, “Did you track them enough to determine a direction?”
Asa said, “Yes sir. I thought it was kind of strange because they’re going northeast.”
Pa said, “It’s probably white men. They might be headed for a cattle boat. There are lots of places where they could have a boat waiting. How old were the tracks?”
Asa said, “They looked fresh to me, Pa.”
Asa already had his rifle and he got his musket. Pa and I were busy arming ourselves as we talked.
Pa said, “We’ll have to hurry. If they’re headed for a waiting boat, we might not have more than twenty-four hours to catch them.”
Ma, who had busied herself packing us some food and helping get our bed rolls ready, said, “Isaac, don’t you get my boys hurt over a few woods cows. You take proper care. I’m not saying you shouldn’t go. Lord knows we have to take care of ourselves. But you be careful.”
Turning to George, Pa said, “Get on your pony and get over to the Hunter place, quick. Tell Jacob what’s been said here and tell him we could use some help. Tell him we’re going northeast and he can probably pick up our trail at the north end of Moccasin Swamp. If he hasn’t checked, some of his cattle might be gone, too. You come straight back here to help your Ma.”
We were in the saddle and gone in fifteen minutes—Pa, Asa, and me. We were each leading a second horse. It was the first time on this kind of trip for Asa. At fifteen years old, he was old enough. We had plenty of confidence in Asa.
When we picked up the trail, we put our horses into a trot. It was apparent the thieves were pushing along pretty fast. It was also apparent from the tracks that they had a two- or three-hour head start on us. Since it was almost noon, we had only a little more than six hours to catch them if we were going to do it before dark. We couldn’t track them after dark but they could keep the cattle moving, even if they lost a few head.
As we were riding three abreast in an open stretch of woods, Pa said, “Boys, I don’t have much of a plan in mind. If we spot them ahead of us, we’ll kick our horses and make a run at them. When we get within fifty yards, I’ll shout. Each of you pick a tree to swing down behind. Brace your rifle on the tree and make your shot count. We’ll reload there. We’ll have to play it by ear after that. If they make a fight of it, use your rifle until they’re within musket range.”
When expecting a fight, we always carried short-barrel muskets in a saddle scabbard
