Chapter 26
More Southeastern Recruiting, 10 K
(FL, GA, TN, 1378)
While we waited for the Tekesta chief to return from the Calusa, we looked around a bit. I thought it prudent to set sentinels and make sure we had a clear line of retreat should the Calusa decide to attack instead of talk. The Tekesta’s main town was on the mainland, but they also had a village on a large barrier island. Since the barrier islands were mostly sand and the mainland was much more solid, I decided to stay just north of the main town. There was a wide cleared area inland from the town, and the pine forest beyond the clearing was not really impenetrable. Once our position was secure, I tried to find out about the Tekesta. They mostly exploited the sea, as did the Calusa, although they did do a little planting. I asked how far to sea they went in their boats, and they said to the large islands. I asked about the islands and was told they traded with the Lucayo on the eastern islands and the Taino on the southern islands. It was hard to get a fix on how large the islands were or how populous the Taino and Lucayo were. I wondered if these might be the eastern threat the Pansfalaya shaman had warned about. I asked about the Taino and Lucayo people, and from the description they did not seem either particularly warlike or much different from the Tekesta. It took a few days to reach either island by sea, so I thought I had best wait until I had talked with the Calusa before looking into these island people.
At last the Tekesta chief returned, and with him was a large contingent of Calusa warriors. They did just outnumber us, but I was sure we could handle them as long as there weren’t more of them trying to flank us. I kept the sentinels in place and moved forward with the interpreters to the Tekesta chief and the Calusa leaders. These also began to move toward us leaving the warriors behind. Once we were close enough, I dismounted. They eyed the horse and me for a time, and then finally spoke.
“Is it a dog or a deer that carries you about?” one of them asked.
“Neither,” I replied. “It is an animal native to our original home far in the west. We also have dogs and deer there—this animal is different. We call it a horse. We have not found any in this land.”
“Why do you look so strange, but your warriors look normal?” another wanted to know.
“My original people live farther west than my current people, the Mongols,” I explained. “You would find the original Mongols strange also, but now most of our people are natives to this land. We would also invite you to join us.”
With that I launched into the usual pitch, explaining the advantages of joining us and how many of the northern tribes had already done so and several of the southern tribes were sending observers to check us out. Perhaps they would also like to send along an observer. They explained that they were not the principle Calusa chief, but only his representatives. Such a decision would be his. They would not take me to him, since he forbade it, but would explain our proposal to him and return with his answer. I asked how long it would take, and they said six days. I asked the Tekesta chief if his people could take me to the largest of the offshore islands and back in six days. He said not really, but anyway we would need to take trade goods in order to make the trip worth the effort, and there was hardly enough time to gather any. I asked when he might make such an expedition again. He replied that perhaps toward the end of summer.
I was disappointed that I couldn’t get to the islands to reconnoiter, and I could hardly leave one of my mappers with these people until the end of summer. It would have to wait for another time. Meanwhile, I had the men do some hunting and fishing so we would not be such a burden on our reluctant hosts. We were able to bag enough for us and still have plenty for our hosts. This did serve to warm them up considerably, perhaps all the way to frosty. My mapper returned the next day. He had been able to get to the point where the peninsula turned west. He had found a long string of islands extending to the southwest but had only been able to map the first one before attracting undue attention from the Calusa. The Calusa chiefs returned in four days with the chief’s reply. He sent his younger brother, Chekika, to go with us as an observer. He was of moderate height, good build, and nearly nude. He wore a scant cover of his manhood made of braided palm fronds. From its belt were hung crab claws and fish spines. He had a necklace of shell beads and a bracelet of fish teeth. His ear lobes had been pierced and distended by a wooden plug decorated with shells. I delicately asked if he had anything for a cooler climate, but he didn’t. I figured we could get him an animal skin along the way, or get something more suitable in the north.
As we began our trek north, Smoking Mirror and I tried to learn the Calusa language from Chekika with the help of our Ozita observer, Yehowlogee. It was not an easy language, although Smoking Mirror thought it was vaguely reminiscent of Pansfalaya. In the course of learning the language, we asked Chekika about his people. His brother, Cuchiyaga, was a chief much like the Sun of Natchez. He seemed to have fairly absolute power over his own town as well as over all the other Calusa towns. He said there were almost a hundred Calusa towns, but I suspect he was overstating it a bit. It seemed Cuchiyaga’s house, the temple and some other leaders’ houses were all on top mounds, just as it was among their northern neighbors. In the swamp towns, the houses were built on pilings above the water. They did cultivate a little but mostly hunted and fished in the swamps and on the sea. They traded with the Taino and the Lucayo much like the Tekesta did. They traded fish, pearls, and amber for various fruits and vegetables. He also said that the islands were very large, especially those of the Taino. In fact, the Taino only controlled the eastern and central parts of the largest island, which he insisted was longer than this peninsula, although it was not very wide. The western part of the island was home to a primitive people called the Ciboney. They were not worth contacting in his view. He was a bit vague on numbers also, but insisted that there were more Taino than Calusa. The Ciboney and Lucayo were not quite so numerous. He said that the Taino were good fighters but not especially belligerent. He was sure that the Calusa could conquer them if they wanted to do so. But their island was too full of mountains and forests for their taste. I thought it had to be a large island if it had mountains and forests, we’d have to see.
We passed through the villages of the Hole and the Wacata again, then came upon a people called the Ais. They were much like their southern neighbors the Wacata, although there were far more of them. They had much regard for the Calusa, and the presence of Chekika among us did much to warm them to us. Their villages were all along a very long sound, protected from the sea by a few very long, thin barrier islands. They made a fuss over Chekika and told him they would go along with his brother’s decision about joining us. I asked Chekika what his people had done to the Ais to inspire such fear, but he claimed it was merely their strong feelings of loyalty to his brother. Yehowlogee later insisted that the Calusa attacked all along both coasts of the peninsula and ate any captives. Schakchu confirmed that they had even attacked his people on rare occasion, but it was more of a raid, with few casualties. They would more often send trading expeditions. He didn’t know about the cannibalism, but said most of the people in the area dismember their fallen foes, perhaps that gives the impression of cannibalism.
North of the Ais, we found a group called the Surreche. They agreed to join if their stronger neighbors did. They were just like the Ais only not as numerous. Still they had several towns on both sides of the northern limits of the same sound on which the Ais lived. It was wider at this point, and the barrier island was much more substantial, forming a fair-sized peninsula extending into the sound some distance from the barrier island. It took a few days to map this mess, even with help, so I set the men to hunting and fishing and shared the excess with the Surreche. North of this, we began to encounter people more like the Acuera in appearance. They were more likely to be tattooed, and the houses were of the pole and mud daub variety. The villages were very small and scattered, however, perhaps for more efficient use of the cultivated fields. They were quite peaceful and friendly, also much like the Acuera. They promised to join us if their neighbors did. They mentioned that there was a large north-flowing river a short distance inland, so I sent one of my mappers to cover it for us and meet us at its mouth. It took us six days to reach the mouth of the river, and then we were met with the challenge of crossing it. It was wide and rather deep for summer. Once across we found ourselves on a swampy island. Fortunately, we found a village on the island, and they guided us across another river to the west and on to the mainland. I had the bulk of the men find a dry campsite while I took one of the native boats and a crew and mapped the area. The locals called themselves Saturiwa and lived in small villages all around the mouth of the river. They were so helpful and friendly, I named the river for them. They also picked up my mapper and guided him to the main encampment. They too promised to join if their more powerful neighbors did.
The river was very wide farther upstream according to the map, and the whole area around its mouth was swampy. As we moved north, we found more rivers and islands all along the coast. The islands were much larger than the barrier islands to the south and proved to have villages on their landward sides. Again the locals were friendly and in every other way also indistinguishable from their southern neighbors. I kept the bulk of my escort inland to avoid the wetlands while I and the other mappers got the coastline and island complex down from boats. We were on a large island called Tacatacuru when we ran into Pesequan and Watang’a . They had been mapping their way south from the Great Sound and were delighted to see me after all this time. We immediately sat down to compare maps. From the mess on their maps north of my current position, I was very glad I ran into them. They were surprised at the large peninsula in the south and rashly offered to finish mapping its southern end. I explained the circumstances and told them to return to the nearest Ordu for now. Perhaps they could map the large islands off the coast the following year if all went well. That prospect excited them, and we copied each other’s work while I asked them about the coastal people. They said that they were much like the people on this island. The language was a bit different, but they couldn’t understand either one anyway. Just south of the Great Sound, however, they had found a different sort of people. Their language sounded something like that of the Amani yukhan. At least it seemed that way to Watang’a who had befriended one of them at the Turtle Ordu the past winter, and they had tried to learn each other’s language. I thought that was odd, but since that particular family of languages stretched from both banks along almost all of the Wazhazhe River to the Missi Sipi River from the Kadohadacho River to its source with much of the land between, it was possible. They said that these people lived in small fishing villages along the coast under powerful chiefs. The chiefs held sway over varying numbers of towns, and in general were peaceful. Farther inland, however, the chiefdoms were larger and more warlike. Once they got near a large river they named the Etiwaw, they found the people were just like the ones on this island. Since the coast was mapped, I decided to turn inland along the nearest river that would lead me northwest into the country of the Tsalagi so I could contact them and anyone else on my way there before fall. If time permitted, I would look into the tribes farther north that spoke the strange language and were warlike.
It was a relief to leave the coast and head for some mountains. This coastal trek had been singularly uncomfortable. The humidity and the heat were reminiscent of the sweat baths the locals favor. Even some of the streams and rivers were tepid. Our hide clothing was totally unsuitable for the area. Most of the men stripped down to the mere basics, of course, but I was left longing for cooler clothing since I learned long ago to protect my light skin from the sun. I vowed to get some cotton clothing before ever venturing here again. As it turned out, I was wrong, it was worse once away from the not infrequent sea breezes. On the other hand, the rivers and streams were deliciously cool at the end of the day.
Pesequan and Watang’a accompanied us as long as we were headed north. We got back to the main force and continued along a little inland. The first large river we came upon seemed to come from the west, rather than the northwest, and the locals confirmed this. They were a pleasant people, called the Wahili by their neighbors. Since “Wahili” means south and there were quite a few people farther south, one had to wonder. They were heavily into painting themselves, at least when receiving guests. They were occasionally tattooed and also had the long sharp fingernails like their southern neighbors. They often wore strings of shell beads around their necks, wrists, arms, and legs. Their small houses were rectangular and made of rough-cut pine planks with palm frond roofs. Their furniture consisted of cane mats, often fringed with colored fabric. They were as dark as the Pansfalaya, but seemed to be taller. The language was related to Pansfalaya, but not closely, and we did have some communication problems. Their towns were only loosely connected to each other in a sort of defensive coalition, but each one remained independent, and none would acknowledge that there might be a principle town among them.
We visited several of them as we moved north, and a couple of the towns sent along observers. Finally, we came to a river that the Wahili insisted would take us northwest and in the process past many “great cities” along the river. It was a good-sized river, and the banks were rather marshy, but it did seem to be flowing out of the northwest. I decided to name it for the Wahili, since they predominated along the coast here and had been cooperative. Not far from where we came upon the river, we found a sort of well-worn path. Unfortunately, it led north and south along the coast. It looked a lot more solid than the ground on which we had just traveled, and I was sorry I had not found it sooner. I sent Watang’a and Pesequan to map it southward until they found some tie in with my map, and told them to then return north along it to their winter quarters. I warned them to be careful, since it was always harder to map interior roads than coastlines. They were pleased with the challenge. I sent along one of the Wahili observers to help them with the locals. It seemed that it was another trade road, long used by the locals. Some of the men reminded me that there were more narrow versions of the trade roads in the north, and, in fact, I had followed one south through the peninsula earlier in the summer. I asked why there wasn’t one along this river and was told it was because they didn’t trade with their interior neighbors, since there was often hostility between them, and they were some distance away. There was a bit of an inter town trail, however, and we made use of it when we could. We visited a few more Wahili towns over the next few days before we finally ran out of them and entered a sort of no-man’s-land between them and their neighbors.
Eventually, we began to come upon small farming communities just like we had seen farther west. As usual we took pains not to disturb their fields, and they gave us a little produce. We soon came to a river flowing into ours from the north. On a bluff above it on the west side was a medium-sized palisaded town. I crossed over to visit it with a small group while most of my men stayed on the south bank of the Wahili. Since I left the army behind, I was met (with some temerity) by the town’s leader. He looked more like the people we had encountered along the Kasihta. The houses were also much like those, although a bit meaner. There did not seem to be much wealth here, at least in terms of the decorative bangles the locals seem to prize. There were some feathers and furs and some shells, but not much else. We came upon another of the trade trails, which obviously led to the town from the south and seemed to continue on to the north. In any case, the town was called Ukwunu, as were the people here about, and it considered itself the principle town. There were a few more towns up the smaller river, which I named for them. The chief agreed to send an observer along. I was sorry I couldn’t map the trail, but I asked about it, and they said it split not far from their town both to the north and the south and led to many great cities. It seemed odd that they weren’t more prosperous, if this was such a crossroads.
We continued upstream, only to find the river turned us southwest for a couple of days before turning us again more sharply northwest for a few days. Along this leg we ran into the outlying villages of another people. They also had a principle town and chief. It was called Altamaha, and proved to be a large palisaded town. Again the people were totally indistinguishable from those along the Kasihta, and indeed they claimed to trade with them along their own road, which apparently hooked up with the main road in the south and continued north along the Wahili River to some other towns of theirs and their northern neighbor. Also like the people of the Kasihta, they were not interested in my proposal.
The river seemed to turn us more to the north beyond the city, but we stuck with it since the parallel trail made the going easy. The other towns in league with Altamaha called themselves something like “Yamasi” in their odd dialect. From our limited knowledge of the language, we couldn’t figure out what it meant. Whoever they were, they were not interested in us. At last one could detect some ascent in our progress. We climbed out of the river bottom onto a fairly broad plateau. The ground was more solid and the river more narrow and swift. The trees changed to mostly oak and the nut-bearing tree that looked something like a walnut tree, with some pine trees around clearings. The air was a little fresher, but only a little. There was a strange swampy patch along the path where several creeks joined the river in a level spot and, with some help from beavers, made a watery mess. Fortunately, the path led us to the west of the mess, but the resultant mosquitoes that night were not appreciated.
Not far above the little swamp, we began to run into some of the outlying farming hamlets of yet another city complex. In a few days, we came to the main city whither the other towns had directed us. It was called Okimulgis in the local dialect. That meant “boiling water” and perhaps referred to rapids or a hot spring of which we were not aware. The city was quite large at one time, spread out for some distance on the east bank of the river. We crossed over to find that only part of it was now occupied, but enough to make a fair-sized town of it. They called themselves Ahitchita but were again just like their neighbors to the south, except that they had some impressive mounds under their temples. One had to be fifty feet high. They had cut steps leading up the mounds out of the native clay soil. Their houses and general appearance were just like those of their neighbors, however, as was their response to our offer. The town did appear to be a major crossroads for the trade trails. There was the minor trail we were following, which ended there, but then there was a larger one going east and west and another large one heading northwest.
We followed the one heading northwest for a few days since it paralleled the river, but then it veered westward after crossing a north-running trail. I decided to send a mapper, Zhawaesh, an Anishinabe, to finish mapping the river while I continued up the northern trail. There was a continuing gradual rise in the terrain, and the trail made it much easier for us. The settlements were fewer and smaller along the trail, but it was definitely taking us north. After two days on the trail, we came upon a trail heading east and west, and I sent a man down to the river to make contact with Zhawaesh, while we continued north. He rejoined us several days later with a copy of the latter’s work in progress. A few days later, we ran into Zhawaesh, himself, waiting for us along the trail. He had been able to travel more quickly than us since he had been given enough food so that he didn’t have to hunt. The river split up as he neared its source, so he took the easternmost branch, and it led him to the trail. There was also an abandoned village here, but there was no sign of attack.
The trail split into two a day later. One fork led northwest and the other northeast. We turned northwest. Over the next several days, the country got wilder, the air fresher, and the settlements ever fewer and smaller. We were definitely wending our way through some foothills and low ridgelines. The road looked as though it was not heavily traveled, and we had to improvise on occasion to stay with it. Eventually after passing through a line of mountains, we came upon a moderately sized palisaded town surrounded by cultivated fields, but no farming hamlets. Our approach was noted with alarm and soon the palisade was bristling with armed warriors. The men were pleased at the prospect of finally seeing some action, but I wasn’t here to fight, so I approached with a small group. On seeing my approach, a group came out of the town to meet me. They looked much like their southern neighbors and also spoke a similar dialect. It took us a while to understand each other, but finally I was able to give the usual recruiting speech. The town chief, Checote, was actually quite excited at the prospect of joining us, especially in view of our promise to come to their aid if attacked. He was concerned about how far away our nearest outpost might be. I explained that at the moment it was about seven hundred and fifty li to the west, but that as more people joined we would set up more Ordu and would no doubt get closer to them. As it was, we had allied tribes who were less than three hundred li to the west of them. Of course, I then had to explain what a li was and how many days it would take to travel three hundred of them. I actually told him six days on horseback and fifteen on foot. Considering the terrain that was probably a bit ambitious, but it was possible.
The chief asked us to wait a bit and went back into the town to confer with his advisors. While he was gone, I noticed that there were trails heading north, northwest, and south as well as the east one we were on. I asked one of the people the chief had left with us where the north road went. He said that both it and the northwest road led to several other fortified towns on this side of the foreign invaders. I asked if he was referring to the Tsalagi. He was. He didn’t know what they called themselves but they were huge, ugly, and fierce and ate their captives. Where had I heard that before? He also assured me that they were part snake and were very evil. He wasn’t too sure how far away they were, but it wasn’t nearly far enough. The chief returned and said that they would join us and would send runners to the towns between them and our allied tribe to urge that they also join us. I thanked him and told him that I would be traveling northward along the road and would welcome one of his people to join us and help us recruit them. He readily agreed and picked out a young man to go with us.
We followed the trail northward through a broad valley between two ridgelines. The ground was rough, but there were cultivated fields all around the palisaded towns weencountered as we continued up the valley. All the towns were quite eager to join after I gave my pitch, although the last one wanted to make sure we’d plant an Ordu in this valley as soon as possible. I had to explain that it would depend on whether we felt it was necessary. When we left and continued north, they sent a runner after us to warn us that there were only the snake monsters in that direction. I thanked them for their concern, but informed them that I had every intention of talking to them. I could see that the boy from the crossroad village was quite nervous, but he didn’t ask to be sent back, and I didn’t suggest it.
We came upon a river flowing west, and I sent Zhawaesh with a small escort to see where it went while the rest of us crossed the river. There had been a palisaded town here at one point from the looks of the ruins, but it had been quite a while ago. By now it was early fall, and the air was clear and dry in this most pleasant valley. A day later, we came upon a small, palisaded town surrounded by fields. It didn’t look appreciably different from those in the south. As we approached, the people in the fields stopped and looked at us curiously but made no move from their work. From the town came a small delegation. I stopped the men and moved forward with a few men. The men were much like the Mingue in general looks, but they wore their hair long and tied in the back. Some wore tattoos and some nose ornaments. They were dressed in deerskin and had some copper, shell, and feather accents, but were not heavily adorned. The language sounded something like the Mingue dialects, but since none of us could speak them, I couldn’t be sure. Finally, we were able to find one of them who could speak the language of the Tsoyaha, and we found one of them in my troop. With that settled, we went into the village to confer.
Needless to say, the Tsalagi were not especially large or frightening, nor did they resemble snakes in any way. I couldn’t say whether they were cannibals. The houses were rectangular and large about sixty by fifteen feet. They were made of wood and covered with clay and had a thatch roof. They also had smaller winter houses looking much like the hot houses of their southern neighbors. We went into a large round “town house” that looked like an earthen mound. A small door led through a narrow passage to a large open room with seats around a fire pit. Since it was not cold, there was only a small fire to give off light. They passed around the weed and then began to talk. There was quite a crowd in the room, both men and women, mostly older, but a few young. The chief was cordial, but it soon became apparent that he was no absolute ruler. They all listened to what I had to say; then both men and women would comment in turn on my proposal. They seemed to be trying to reach some sort of consensus on the matter. They batted the issues back and forth at length and ad nauseam until, in the end they decided to send an observer with us, the young man who spoke the Tsoyaha’ language. His name was Kollee. I thanked them for their decision and asked if there was a principle town or chief that would be able to speak for all their people. They informed me that while there were some great towns, which were revered because of their historical significance, the leaders of those towns could only speak for themselves, each Ani’ Yun’-wiya (their real name for themselves) had to make his own decision.
One of the “revered” towns, Itsati, was nearby, so I decided to visit it and any towns between, before returning home. It took seven days to reach Itsati, mostly because of the long meeting at each of the three towns along the way. They had each decided to have Kollee report to them after he reported home, and they would decide based on his report. Zhawaesh caught up with us on this leg of the journey. It seemed that the “border” river joined a broad river that flowed southwest. My men insisted that it was the same West Tsoyaha River that flowed by their Ordu. From what we had mapped of it, it did seem possible it was. Our journey took us along a south-flowing river to a north-flowing river, which we followed to a wide west-flowing river, which everyone was certain was the West Tsoyaha, again. We followed this river upstream to a north-flowing river, which in turn led us to Itsati. I decided to call the “border” river the South Aniyunwiya River, and this river the Itsati. The town was quite large, stretched out along both sides of the river, with each house surrounded by its own fields. Since Kollee was with us, we caused no alarm but did draw a fair amount of curiosity. Kollee led us to the “town house” which was arguably near the center of the elongated town. It was like those in the other towns except that it was quite a bit larger.
I was received by the chief, Ostenako, and given a meal. Then we all repaired to the town house and went through the usual. This time, however, there was a much larger crowd, and we had to suspend the meeting and take it up again the next day. There seemed to be a lot of disagreement this time. There was a group that wanted to send an observer, a group that wanted to have nothing to do with us, a group that thought we were probably just spying on them and would attack later, and so on. It looked as though consensus would not be achieved. Then Ostenako spoke again.
“These strangers are not like our neighbors,” he began. “Any nation that claims to be as large as they do, cannot be lightly dismissed. At the same time, since we know nothing about them but what they tell us, we can hardly throw our lot in with them. If they were going to attack us, it would be foolish to send in such a force and lull us with promises of alliance rather than a few scouts to spy us out. I feel it is best to send one of our own with them to see if their words are true and their intentions are friendly. If you agree I will send my son, Utasite with them.”
This set up quite a stir and not a little protest since he was one of the town’s best ball game players and would be sorely missed. The discussion continued into the night, but more were coming over to Ostenako’s view, and in time all those of other opinions remained silent, and it was agreed. Ostenako then promised to send his most influential men to the other towns in the valley and speak on my behalf if Utasite returned with a favorable report. I thanked him profusely, since I couldn’t take too many more such meetings. I asked if the Ani’ Yun’-wiya only lived in the valley. He told me that other groups lived to the east of the mountains and farther north, he could also speak to them if I wanted, but it would probably be better if I made my own presentation to them, since they spoke a different dialect and no one in Itsati knew the language. There did seem to be a dearth of linguists among them.
We took our leave and, with Utasite in tow, went back down the Itsati River to the alleged West Tsoyaha River. We followed it west for a while, then turned southwest for ten days, then west for six days, then finally north. It was indeed the West Tsoyaha River. It was quite a broad meandering river full of islands. On some of the larger islands, there were towns and fields. These proved to be a people more like the southern people, than the Ani’ Yun’-wiya. They had heard all about us from their neighbors downstream whom I had recruited in the spring. They also wanted to confederate since they