On the Border with Andrew Jackson

The spirit of revolt which had risen up in Jackson’s army would not down. Though unflinchingly faced by him it rose and rose again; for these men of the border lands were wild, uncontrolled fellows who knew no discipline and were accustomed to receive orders from no man.

Once Jackson brought two pieces of artillery to bear upon them, loaded and the gunners with lighted matches in their hands. But as often as he suppressed the mutinies just as often they broke out in a fresh place. So persistent did the thing become that the authorities of the state of Tennessee, and those at Washington, evidently having little hope of securing any real service from such a discontented force, took a hand in the proceedings; the result was that the men were gradually recalled. At one period the indomitable Jackson had but a hundred men left him.

But then the tide turned. Because of his own persistent efforts, those of the authorities whom he aroused, and the good will of those of his officers who had returned to the settlements, a new army was raised. By the middle of the following March some five thousand well conditioned troops were assembled at Fort Strother.

During this entire time of stress and falling away, Jack Davis and Frank Lawrence clung to the cause of the general. And now that his star was once more upon the rise, they were delighted.

“Any other man, almost, would have gone down under that fight and never risen again,” said Jack, admiringly.

“It’ll not be long now before he gets to work again,” said Frank.

“I don’t think it’ll be as easy a task as it would have been some time ago,” observed the young borderer. “The Creeks have pulled themselves together, and they are once more ready to make a fight of it.”

During all this time of trouble at Fort Strother, things had not been at a standstill in the Creek country; that savage tribe had been ravaging and burning; the war-whoop had been heard in many a little hamlet, and the tomahawks and scalping knife had made their presence felt. But the white man had not done much in return. Floyd and a body of Georgia militia had marched against the Indian towns on the lower Tallapoosa. At a place called Autosee, in November, he attacked the redskins and drove them from the field, slaying some two hundred of their warriors. However, though much was expected of him, Floyd did little more. An expedition up the Alabama River under General Claiborne was a failure.

From then on it was seen that if the Creeks were subdued it would be Jackson’s force that would do it.

But while the renewing of his army was in progress, Jackson had not altogether closed his work against the hostiles. He was not the man to pause, even though he had but soldiers enough to man his few pieces of artillery. But by the early part of January, 1814, he had a strong body of men at Fort Strother; though more were on their way, he felt that he need not wait for them.

About eighty miles south of his position on the Coosa River was a fortified camp of Creeks, a place called Tohopeka. At this place the savages were assembling in great numbers; the scouts from Fort Strother had been watching them for some time and keeping the general closely in touch with what was happening there.

One night Jack Davis and Frank Lawrence arrived at the fort, their horses in a lather of foam. At once they went to the commander’s tent and were admitted. The general was seated at his table going over a map he had made of the region, and he looked up as the boys entered.

“Well,” said he, “what is there to report?”

“We’ve been scouting in the neighborhood of Tohopeka for the last week,” said Jack. “And things have reached such a state we thought it best to come in at once.”

“Hah!” The deep-set eyes of the general began to glow. “So the Indians are still gathering?”

“They are,” replied Frank. “All the villages for a hundred miles around the fortifications are pouring braves into it. There is something of great moment about to be attempted.”

“They are better armed than I ever saw Indians before,” put in Jack. “And they are drilling and practicing the maneuvers of the white man’s sort of warfare.”

General Jackson, with a quietness of demeanor which was ominous, asked a number of pertinent questions; and when he had learned all they had to tell, he said:

“That will do. And as you go out, give my compliments to Colonel Coffee and beg him to step into my room.”

When they were outside, Frank said in a low, exultant tone:

“That means a move of some sort, as sure as you live.”

Colonel Coffee was closeted with the commander for perhaps an hour; then other officers of rank were summoned. The result was that on the following day Jackson led a force of nine hundred mounted riflemen, some two hundred Cherokees and a cannon for use against the Creek fortifications.

Five days this little army marched through the wilderness; then camp was made upon the banks of Emuckfan Creek at a place only three miles from the Indian fort against which they were moving. Preparations were made for a sharp blow to be delivered next day; guards were placed about the camp in the charge of alert young woodsmen, among whom were Jack and Frank.

Quiet reigned in the forest; the water of the stream went rippling over the stones in its bed, the wind stirred in the tops of the trees, the stars looked down peacefully. But even in the midst of the quiet, Jack was not at rest.

“I don’t know just why it is,” said he, “but I’ve got the feeling that something is going to happen.”

“It’s the same with me,” replied Frank, in the same whispering tone which his friend had used. There was a short pause, then he added: “I suppose I’m foolish for thinking so, but somehow I’ve got the notion that the Creeks are on the move to-night.”

“What makes you feel that?” asked Jack, and there was a note in his voice which Frank knew as mingled eagerness and alarm.

“I fancied I heard and saw something several times off there to the south and west,” said the young Virginian.

“That settles it,” breathed Jack. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. And the fact that we both saw and heard it shows that it is true.”

Quickly, but with caution, the word was passed to the guard; at once it began to pass from man to man on watch about the camp. Then the lads stole back to the line of tents, and in a few minutes the men were aroused and stood under arms awaiting the word from their officers.

And it was well that they were prepared, for suddenly the forest seemed alive with savages; the night was filled with the war-whoop of the border-land. But to the amazement of the exultant savages, instead of a sleeping camp, they found lines of riflemen. A sleet of lead swept among them, and with yells of rage they fell back into the cover of the woods. Once more, after dawn, the Creeks attacked the white men, but again they were beaten off, and retired to their fort.

Jackson now managed to get sight of this, and also had an opportunity of estimating the number of savages facing him.

“They are too strong!” said he, promptly. “With the force at hand we’ll be taking too many chances in attacking them.”

“You’ll not fall back,” objected the officers.

Jackson nodded and smiled grimly.

“But don’t be afraid, sir,” said he. “The Creeks will still be here when we come again.”

Having made up his mind, Jackson at once set his little army upon its retrograde motion. Eagerly the savages followed, hanging to his flanks persistently. At a stream called the Enotachopco, the Creeks attacked the rear guard fiercely; but with the aid of the six-pounder gun they were held back until the stream was crossed.

On the twelfth day after its departure the army reached Fort Strother once more. The result of the expedition was that the great prospective movement of the Indians was halted and that two hundred of them had fallen in the fighting. Jackson’s loss was twenty-four killed and seventy-one wounded.