The Indian Warrior and the Slave Girl

The Muscogee (Creek) (a.k.a. Muskogee, Maskoke, Seminole) people are descendents of a remarkable culture that, before 1500, spanned the entire region known today as the Southeastern United States. The historic Muscogee later built expansive towns within these same broad river valleys in the present states of Alabama, Georgia, Florida and South Carolina. The Muscogee were not one tribe but a union of several. This union evolved into a confederacy. Member tribes were called tribal towns. Within this political structure, each tribal town maintained political autonomy and distinct land holdings. The English called the Muscogee peoples occupying the towns on the Coosa and the Tallapoosa rivers, Upper Creeks, and those to the southeast, on the Chattahoochee and Flint rivers, the Lower Creeks. The distinction was purely geographical. Due in part to their proximity to the English, the Lower towns was substantially affected by intermarriage.

The Seminole Indians were a tribe of the Creek Indian Confederation and in the 1700's they migrated to the southeast area of the United States that is now Florida. When the Seminole Indians arrived in the Florida area it was being inhabited by the Spanish. When they arrived in Florida the land they made their homes was shared by another Indian tribe that they ended up banding together with, and they became known as the Seminole Indians, Seminoles means runaways.

The Spanish strategy for defending Florida was based, at first, on organizing the indigenous Indians into a mission system with the mission Indians serving as militia to protect the colony from English incursions from the north. But a combination of raids by South Carolina colonists and new European diseases to which they did not have immunity decimated Florida's native population. The European settlers were not fond of the Seminoles even before the British came because the Seminole tribe would protect runaway slaves.

Native Americans are deeply in tune with nature and its cycles. Love and romance was a part of every life. Families were an integral part of every group, and the extended family was supported and nurtured. Children were loved and adored. To this end, a young warrior named Chitto Creek name meaning Brave was seeking a wife.

Ataá was a decedent of the African, Spanish, Carib and Taíno tribes in the Bahamas. Her name identified her as a twin in Akan, which probably was from her African roots. Most likely Ataá was kidnapped from Cuba or Puerto Rico, and brought to the southeast as a slave. Many Carib women spoke Taíno because of the large number of female Taíno captives among them. For much of the 15th century, the Taíno tribe was being driven to the Northeast in the Caribbean out of what is now South America because of raids by Caribs. The Spaniards, who first arrived in the Bahamas, Cuba and Hispaniola in 1492, and later in Puerto Rico, did not bring women. The invaders took Taíno women for their wives, which resulted in mixed children. The Taíno society was devastated by introduced of smallpox, sexually transmitted diseases, as well as intermarriages and forced assimilation into the plantation economy that Spain imposed in its Caribbean colonies, with its subsequent importation of African slave workers.

Ataá worked in a whorehouse somewhere in Florida, cleaning and cooking. She was about 16, a virgin and knew that the Madame’s plan was to put her to work as a man’s lady soon. Ataá was very exotic looking with long dark curly hair, and skin the color of coffee latté. She had huge brown eyes, and big hips. As a lady of the night she would command a good price. Ataá knew her days were numbered to make her escape. Living on an island all her life, she was a very good swimmer. At one time she thought she could swim home, but she was moved further and further away from the sea. Her only hope now was just to escape to a safe place – and soon.

Chitto was a hunter and warrior. While he was out hunting game, he came across Ataá’s secret garden. He’d never seen such a place with the sweet scent of roses, purple coneflower, columbines, red buckeye, tangerine beauty vine, fennel, coral honeysuckle, woodland phlox, blackberries, the evening primrose and sweet minty Conradina glabra. Chitto remembered the “grandmothers” brewing the plant. The garden had a small stream running through it. He had no way of knowing it was Ataá’s hiding place when the men came to the house. Ataá managed to stay out of sight for much of the day, even cooking outside and leaving the food on the cast iron stove for the women. Whenever she heard the hoofs of horses, she made a quick escape to this secret place. With the berries and water she had plenty to eat and drink. She even erected a small shelter on the side of a large boulder. There she hid blankets, clothes and supplies to make a fire. It was so well equipped Ataá used it for the nights she had to sleep away from the house.

Chitto was so comfortable in the garden, he stayed the night. He was awakened the next morning by a female singing. It was just after dawn and it was a beautiful sunrise. Birds were singing, and there were butterflies everywhere. Chitto spotted a fawn but did not want to spook the girl. There seemed to be plenty of game. He’d just wait for another opportunity. He was more interested in the girl. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She didn’t venture toward the shelter, but moved toward the stream where she sat. She didn’t seem to notice the horse was grazing out of sight. She busied herself picking flowers and wading in the stream. She was there until noon, picked some herbs, and walked off the way she arrived. Chitto left his horse tied up and followed her on foot. He was disappointed when he realized she entered a whorehouse. He was about to leave when he heard the yelling, and the girl ran out of the house. He watched as the girl hide in the fields until the man left. Perhaps she wasn’t one of the women of the house. Chitto watched her cook and clean until dusk. He found his way back to the garden, spent another night hoping the girl would return in the morning.

Next morning when the girl did not arrive, Chitto went back to the house. As he arrived he saw a wagon load of young women pull up. Interesting that many were crying, may be they were forced into service. He went back to his horse and hunted for game before returning to the village. Many of the men were looking for wives like he was. The tribe needed to increase the population. Many of the children died at birth or from the smallpox outbreak. The men were away hunting for months during the outbreak. That’s when the tribe moved farther away from the white man’s town and sickness. The warriors may be interested in raiding the house. The women looked young, and the house was far enough out of town for them to take the women without being seen.

The village was far enough away, hidden in a canyon behind a waterfall not to be found. The men had taken the women, the old people, the young boys and girls into the deep forests, hiding them in secret places among rocks, in caves, and on desolate mountains. The Great Spirit himself helped the people to hide and shielded their places of refuge from the eyes of their enemies. The Great Spirit showed them the green lush place with the waterfall and the canyon behind. The place filled with game and fish.

The raid was planned and within three days the warriors went after the women. During the night the men went down from the heights into the forest below by way of a secret path. While the men went to the house, Chitto went to the garden/stream to look for the girl. It wasn’t long before she came running through the grass and right to him. Chitto chased her through the brook and knocked her down with his horse. It was an easy chase for an experienced hunter. She turned to see him standing there. He reined in the horse to stop beneath an enormous tree, and once there, jumped off the animal with a sinister grin on his face. She didn’t hesitate at all. Quickly, she jumped up and ran. A young maiden, and her encounter with the beast. The devil came to her house. He was looking for a fresh soul. Searching for someone innocent, a virgin and he was being very bold.

The men met up at the edge of the forest, each with their prize. The women were blindfolded, and had no idea where they were. While the women cried and pleaded, Ataá listened and used her sense of smell. These men were not the same smelly white men who came to the house for sex. They were younger like her brothers and smelled of the earth. Who were they, and how did they find her. This was the day she was to escape. Here she was a captive again. How did they find her place, her garden? She was going to pick up her supplies and keep running to freedom. Now was she in a worst position?

The women were between 17 and 19. They were indentured servants, sold to the man who owned the whorehouse. He expected to get wealthy before the women were too old or sick to perform. The house was far away from town for them to get any help. The women thought they were going to be house servants – nannies, maids, cooks. They were shocked to find out they were sold into prostitution. Now they were kidnapped and blindfolded. Ataá knew with all the crying she could not depend on the other women for help. They did not receive her kindly when they arrived at the house. She was on her own – again.

Chitto was intrigued by Ataá. Mesmerized by her beauty she was a woman who made gardens with wildlife, flowers and butterflies. Would she be the mother of his children? She was beautiful – her skin, hair and eyes. She was a planter, capable of growing crops. She was smart and strong willed. He’d have to break her but not too much. He wanted her to keep that independent spirit.

“We will adopt you into our tribe. Then you will belong to the victors. If you refuse, you will be tortured at the stake."

He tried to intimidate her, to keep her from running. Maintaining the community was the norm, and incest, wife swapping, would tear a community apart. Yet another reason for the clan systems, which kept close track of which children belong to whom, so as to prevent accidental incest. Inbreeding was ... a facet of European society, not Native societies. This beauty would make a great addition.

After what seemed an eternity, she opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, and closed her lips saying nothing. Watching her look away, he could see tears cloud her eyes. She wanted to go back to her island home – not be adopted!

The warriors crept through thickets and rough places, over winding paths and deer trails, until at last they arrived beneath the towering cliff of sheer granite, and another full day had passed. The warriors were sure that any white man trying to trail the group would be confused and lose. They stopped to make camp before continuing to the final destination. Chitto tied Ataá to a tree trunk by her ankle. She would try to escape before the other women. What he did not realize was she’d slip his knife away. While the men were busy building shelters, gathering fire wood, and standing guard over the other women, Ataá was cutting herself free. The first chance she had, she’d run for the woods, and run she did.

Chitto was on his way back from checking the perimeter when he saw her dart for the thicket. He cut her off and reined in the gelding to stop beneath an enormous maple tree, and once there, jumped off the animal from the rear. He didn't look at Ataá. He didn't even speak. He began to pace, back and forth.

Several moments passed. The horse grazed, Chitto walked up and down, scattering golden leaves here and there and Ataá sat quietly with her back to the tree.

At length, Chitto approached her. "If you run again....." he said, his words sounding unpleasant, even to his own ears.

Ataá didn't answer.

She merely looked at him, and her gaze, as she stared at him, irritated him all out of proportion.

Ataá did nothing more than look at him in that way of hers that set his blood to boiling, and Chitto found himself in need of a incredible amount of patience, for he felt like shaking her.

She opened her mouth to speak, faltering.

But his reaction was not one of sympathy. No, it was more one of uncontrolled anger. And it was all he could do at this moment not to shriek at her.

So he resorted to a rumble and a growl, turning away from her to resume his pacing, up and down, back and forth.

Ataá gazed back, again that sad look in her eyes. She started to speak but at the last instant, looking down, she closed her mouth. Chitto could barely contain himself. "Do not run again! It will be the last thing you do in this life." The other women quickly conformed but not this one he thought! But isn’t that what attracted him to her?

Ataá knew at once she had to pick her battles....if she was to live to fight another day. She was beginning to identify with her captor after the last two days. She took a deep breath, unaware that in his glance, all his emotions toward her - his admiration, his devotion, his love, his anger stood out readily there for anyone to witness.

They made an odd picture, the Indian and his woman; one, tall, bronzed warrior standing regally in his vivid garment, holding the petite, slave girl in his arms. They were bound; these two and he griped her to him amidst the backdrop of golden, falling leaves and the dark bark of trees. Her long, brown curls fanned back against him in the slight breeze, entwining with his own darker straight hair.

Had anyone observed them at that moment, he would have witnessed a powerful and compelling vision; for the two young people, together, united, became a part of and yet were more than the extravagant show of nature and expansive beauty exploding all around them.

And Ataá, holding him, gazing up at him, crashed straight into a sudden realization that caused her to shake, even as he held her: she would not run away from him; she could not. Not now. Not ever.

He loved her that much.

It was a startling and sobering awareness for her.

And Ataá, completely honest with herself, despaired.