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  Broken Feather

  (Black Seminole Scout)

  Jeanie P. Johnson

  OTHER BOOKS BY THIS AUTHOR

  Native American books

  Across The River

  Apache Pride

  Beyond The Heart

  Cherokee Courage

  Gentle Savage

  Gedi Puniku (Cat Eyes)

  Kiowa White Moon

  Kiowa Wind Walker

  Little Flower

  No Price Too High

  Paiute Passion

  Papago Promise

  Plenty Proud

  Sagebrush Serenade

  Savage Land

  Shadow Hawk

  Shoshone Surrender

  Son of Silver Fox (sequel to Gentle Savage)

  White Hawk and the Star Maiden

  Within The Heart (Sequel to Beyond the Heart)

  Historical or Regency/Victorian Romance Books

  A Bride for Windridge Hall

  Defiant Heart

  Highroad

  Indentured

  The Deception

  Wild Irish Rose

  Winslow’s Web

  Contemporary Western Romance Books

  Georgie Girl

  Grasping at Straws

  Mattie

  Passion’s Pride

  Single-handed Heart

  Historical Western Romance Books

  Elusive Innocents

  20th Century Historical Romance Books

  Italy Vacation

  Moments of Misconception

  Radcliff Hall

  Reluctant Flapper

  Samuel’s Mansion

  Taxi Dancer

  Action and Adventure Mystery Romance Books

  Ghost Island

  Holding On

  Payback

  Futuristic Action and Adventure Romance Books

  Chosen

  Pony Up

  Project Rat Pack

  Surviving

  The Division

  The Dominion

  The Mechanism

  Time travel/Reincarnation Romance Books

  Egyptian Key

  Letters From The Grave

  Seekers

  Seekers Two

  Seekers Three

  The Locked Room

  The Vortex-book One

  Non Fiction Books

  A Collection of short stories (some true)

  Chief Washakie (short history of Shoshoni Chief)

  Dream Symbols Made Easy (how to analyze dreams)

  Peaches (inspirational)

  The Prune Pickers (my childhood)

  Whimper (true story of racial conflicts)

  Children’s Picture Book

  Dandy The Horse

  Monster In My Closet

  The Hen Mrs. Cackle

  This is a work of fiction and all characters are out of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is unintentional.

  Story by

  Jeanie P. Johnson

  © Copyright 2019

  All rights reserved

  PROLOGUE

  The brave Seminole people had been pushed out of their land from the beginning of the exploration of the American Continent by the English and other foreign nations. The Spanish claimed the southwestern part of the Americas, and Florida was their buffer against the English expanding their hold. Florida was a wild, tropical forest, difficult to inhabit or settle. Therefore, the Spanish were pleased when the Seminole tribe chose Florida to dwell in. It would assure that no English would cross over to expand their settlements.

  The Seminole were a fierce fighting force, so that, coupled with the swampy, tropical setting of Florida, kept them safe from both Spanish and English rule. The Spanish were lax in requiring anything from the Seminoles because they were already serving a good purpose for them.

  As slavery grew in the American colonies, many slaves managed to escape their captors. They had been raised in the jungles of Africa and knew how to use nature to their advantage. Florida was a perfect place for them to run for shelter. Not only was the landscape difficult to maneuver through, for those hunting them, but the Seminole Indians were not to be reckoned with, so it became a safe haven for those black people known as Maroons.

  The Seminoles welcomed the Maroons because they knew how to tame the tropical wilderness, learned from their early years in Africa. They knew how to farm and build in ways that the Seminoles had not mastered. Their talents were beyond the Seminoles because as slaves, they had been taught many useful trades by the whites. The Seminole allowed the Maroons their own space, and the two cultures dwelled in harmony together. The Maroons were also adept in warfare from their early years of living in the jungle, which worked to the Seminole’s advantage. While they were considered slaves by the Seminoles, the only thing the Seminoles demanded of them was a portion of their crops, and they became more like sharecroppers than slaves. As a result, everyone dwelled happily together.

  As the years passed by, the Maroons began intermarrying with the Seminoles, producing what would be known in the future as the Black Seminoles. However, the Seminole belief was that only children who had mothers with Seminole blood could be considered Seminoles and a part of the tribe. All others would remain Maroons.

  Eventually, Florida was taken over by the English. By this time, the colonies were now under American rule. Since it was impossible to remove the Maroons from the Seminole land in Florida, the American Army promised all Maroons and Black Seminole Indians their freedom if they surrendered to the Americans, and that they would be given land in Indian Territory, if they agreed to be relocated to Oklahoma. The Maroons wanted to be free of the constant oppression of slave hunters, and being considered Seminole slaves as well, so they agreed to surrender.

  However, the Seminoles believed that the Maroons had betrayed them by surrendering to the Americans, and without the added force of the Maroons fighting with them they too were forced to surrender. Due to Seminole protest, the army was unable to fulfill its promise to the Black Seminoles, and when both groups reached Indian Territory, problems arose as to the status of the Maroons and Black Seminoles.

  Now, although the Maroons were living in Indian Territory, they still did not have the freedom they had expected. They discovered that because of the stipulations of a treaty centered on the removal of the Indians to Indian Territory, the Seminole tribe would be under the Creek Indian rule, which did not sit well with a majority of either Seminoles or Black Seminoles.

  Upon reaching the reservation in Oklahoma, the Black Seminoles ended up losing their status with the Seminoles and no longer were considered a member of the tribe. After the Seminoles agreed to Creek rule in 1845, Maroons found themselves subjected to the Creek slave codes, which prohibited them from owning weapons and property and threatened the existence of their independent communities. Black Seminoles found their former allies, the Seminoles, increasingly unwilling to support them in their efforts to resist the oppressive Creek codes. As a result, they became the slaves of the Indians instead of the whites.

  Fearing the loss of their autonomy, the Maroons rejected Seminole authority and turned to the army for protection. However, the army refused to support the Maroons’ claims of freedom and insisted that they return to Seminole rule, which often meant being sold to Creek or white slave owners.

  Finally, the Black Seminoles revolted, and led by Juan Caballo, a substantial number of Black Seminoles went to Mexico in 1849. Now that they were in Mexico, the Mexican government used them to patrol the Texas-Coahuila border against Comanche’s and Apaches, offering the Maroons and a splinter band of Seminoles, led by Seminole warrior Wild Cat, a joint grant of land at the juncture of Rio San Rodrigo and Rio San Antonio.

  The M
aroons were now referred to as Mascogos. The Maroon communities in Mexico continued to be a haven for runaway slaves and freed blacks of mixed blood. The Americans kept besieging the Mexican government with requests that blacks within their boundaries be returned into slavery. So the Mexicans moved both the Maroons and the Seminoles further inland. Because the Seminoles were more interested in fighting other Indians, while the Maroons and Black Seminoles were intent on settling the land and living in peace, the Seminoles returned to Indian Territory, leaving the Maroons and their half-Indian brothers behind.

  Kvcke Tafy, (Ca-ch-ka Ta-va-a) meaning Broken Feather in the Muscogee-Creek language, which the Seminoles spoke, resided with the Black Seminoles, who remained in Mexico. His grandfather was black and his grandmother was Seminole. His mother was Seminole, and his father was Black Seminole. So he was considered Black Seminole by Seminole standards.

  He watched as more and more Black Seminoles escaped to Mexico and joined the ones who were already there. However, after the Civil War, in 1870, the United States Army entered into an agreement with the leader of the Black Seminoles to employ Black Seminoles as Indian scouts and fighters in West Texas, in exchange for the government’s promise to support the people until they were moved to the Seminole Nation in Indian Territory. The scout’s knowledge of English, Spanish, and various Indian dialects were valuable to the army, as was their experience in fighting Indians in Mexico. In 1876 the Black Seminoles were moved from Fort Duncan to Fort Clark. Their promise of being given land in Indian Territory was not honored, though, because they did not consider the Black Seminoles to be Indians, since they were part Negro. Once again, the promise of the Americans had failed the black Seminoles.

  Broken Feather was one of the young, Black Seminoles, who became a scout for the United States Army. Having lived with the Maroons, he spoke part Gullah, which was the language of the black slaves, with a mixture of Muscogee-Creek language of the Seminoles, along with Spanish and English.

  He was torn between loyalties to the Americans, who were in command of him, and to his Black Seminole roots. However, neither seemed to lend any loyalty to him, and he was like a man without a country.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Broken Feather, behind you!” the voice of Captain Renton blared through the dust created by thundering hooves. He knew he did not have a clear shot at the Comanche threatening Broken Feather’s life.

  Broken Feather turned just in time to see a Comanche barreling down on him. He managed to squeeze off a shot with his rifle just in time before the Comanche could release his arrow. The Arrow flew up in the sky instead, as the Comanche brave tumbled backwards off of his horse, the bullet catching him between the eyes.

  The stolen horses were in a scattered tangle among Comanche, who had taken them and the military, who were hot on their heels. Several other Black Seminole scouts were in the regiment that had been sent out to retrieve the horses.

  The chaos of yapping Comanche, and screaming horses, mixed in dust so thick they could barely see, filled the Texas canyon. Broken Feather turned his horse on its haunches just in time to see Captain Renton’s horse go down with the swift thud of an arrow to its lungs. Captain Renton was thrown clear of his horse but a Comanche brave had leaped from his horse, his tomahawk brandished above his head, intent on ending the white soldier’s life. Broken Feather, took another shot, stopping the Comanche in his tracks. Then he was reaching down, grabbing the Captain’s arm and helping him swing up on the back of his own horse.

  A few more resounding shots, and the Comanche renegades, had all been eliminated. Now all that was left to do was round the horses up and head back to Fort Clark.

  “Good work,” Captain Renton praised. “I owe you for this.”

  “You kept me from being shot as well,” Broken Feather returned the compliment. “I think we are even.”

  “Well, this day’s work is about done. Don’t know what we’d do without the help of you scouts. You are death on the Comanche!”

  “Do you know when the promise of sending us to the Seminole Nation will take place? We are happy to serve, in exchange for the promise.” Broken Feather gave a hopeful look as he turned his head to the man behind him. Already he had been working as a scout for five years, and had just been transferred to Fort Clark.

  “They are working on it. You know all the red tape involved any time the government undertakes a project. They have to put it through all the correct committees and have it signed by all the important governing bodies, and then those in charge of the Indian Territory have to agree and sign off on it. They are trying to determine if you scouts are even considered Seminole, since the main tribe refuses to accept you as one of them any longer. Until then, we are privileged to have you working beside us.”

  “I have the right Seminole blood. Both my grandmother and mother were Seminole,” Broken Feather argued.

  “Only those in charge seem to think that if you have any Negro blood in your veins, you are considered black, not Indian or any other nationality, regardless of your parentage. If they don’t consider you Indian, you can’t share in the Indian’s grant of land and assistance by the government. I doubt you will be given a place in the Seminole nation, Broken Feather. If you wish, you can choose to go back to your people in Mexico. However, you will always have a job here with the army as a scout.”

  “It was a promise made by the whites in exchange for our service as scouts. So now this promise will also be broken, like all the other promises made to my people?”

  “I have no say in the matter. I just work for the government, the same as you. Only I’ll put in a good word for you, Broken Feather, to make sure you continue to have a place here with us if you wish to stay. You deserve something for your loyalty and contribution to the army.”

  Captain Renton could feel Broken Feather stiffen. He knew how much it had meant to him to have a place with what he considered his Indian people. He, too, was disappointed in the government for constantly breaking Indian treaties to suit their own purpose. He patted Broken Feather on the back. He liked the young Black Seminole. The young man had proven himself to be a hard worker even though, like many of the other Black Seminole scouts, he disliked doing things by the book. They often claimed the whites did not know how to fight the Indians, and if it was left up to them, everyone would end up getting killed. Discovering this often to be the case, the military leaders were willing to allow the scouts a certain leniency in the way they conducted themselves which they did not offer the other members of the army when it came to following traditional army protocol.

  Captain Sam Renton felt bad for the way the Black Seminoles had been treated by the government, but his hands were tied. However, if the Black Seminoles were never allowed to join the other Seminoles in Indian Territory, they could remain working as scouts, and that suited him just fine. He hoped Broken Feather would choose to stay because a certain bond had been growing between them. He almost thought of him as the son he never had, if it weren’t for the fact that he was part black and the rest Indian.

  For now, he was tired, and had other things to worry about. He had received notice from his daughter, Vanessa, telling him she was on her way out to Texas. There had been no explanation in the telegram as to why she was leaving Louisiana, where she lived with his aunt after his wife had passed away, and there was no way he could house his daughter at the fort.

  Also, he was upset at the loss of his treasured horse, but better the horse losing its life than him, he told himself, as he rode behind Broken Feather. One of the men in his unit had retrieved the saddle from the back of his horse when the skirmish was over, so at least, he had not lost the saddle too The troop had been tracking the Comanche for three days with little rest, so he was eager to get back to the fort, take a hot bath, and get some long deserved sleep. When the stolen horses were returned to their rightful ranch owner, everyone could get a little rest until the next assignment.

  The impending arrival of his daughter, troubled Sam,
but he had already decided on how he was going to resolve the problem, if it came to that, and had made all the arrangements, the moment he learned she was coming to Texas. He only hoped she would not put up a fuss. Sam knew how stubborn his daughter could be, and this worried him. She had always had a rebellious streak in her, knowing she got the trait from her mother. He certainly hadn’t lent anything but guidance to his daughter, when it came to family traits. She had always been an enigma, from the day she was born, he thought a little sadly.

  The welcoming sight of the fort came into view as it rose up out of the shimmering heat that distorted everything in the distance. The long, two story stone soldier’s barracks that housed the troops stood out against the bright Texas Sky. Close by were three officers’ quarters, and farther on, stood the stone hospital and a two story stone house for the hospital staff. Not far away was a man-made lake of sorts, created from Las Moras Springs, at the head of Las Moras Creek, where the water needed for the fort was accessed.

  However, when the fort was built back in the 1850’s, there had been no access to wood, and so it was made out of the stone found in the area. Since then, a few trees had been brought in and planted around the barracks and lake area. The land belonged to a woman of wealth who leased it to the army. Later the army added a wooden stable yard to house the horses, the wood having to be hauled in from somewhere else to accomplish the job.

  Fort Clark was situated not far from the town of Brackettville, which had sprung up when the fort was first constructed. There, a stage station, general store, and small hotel-saloon were established. A few resident houses had started to appear, but over the years of Indian raids, many of the pioneer settlers had packed up and moved out. Therefore, the town had turned into a rough and tumble stop over, much like the gold rush towns during the early gold fever days, where many unsavory men stopped on their way to Mexico, either fleeing from the law or looking for illegal adventure.