“All Indians are to remain the settlement for questioning about their loyalties to the crown and lessons in the holy scriptures!” demanded the Spanish soldier.
“That is not possible,” Timpoochee insisted. “Our people are peaceful. We have been issued permission to return to our home. We intend to do just that.”
“You will accompany me to the fort,” the soldier commanded, motioning toward the fort with his musket. “Or you will be shot.”
The Englishman explained to the Spanish sergeant who Timpoochee was, that he was the responsibility of Panton, the Indian trader.
Noise from the road toward the fort stirred up the crowd in the town square. Another soldier called for the sergeant. He forgot about his captives and left in a run to see what was the commotion.
“Quickly,” said the Englishman. “Now. Go. Set sail!”
Timpoochee ordered his crew into the boat. They quickly tied up loose ends, shifted bulk and containers, secured what what was loose.
The noise which had distracted the Spaniard also scared up a covey of huge black crows which launched into the sky, circling and squawking as if in fright - or celebration.
Timpoochee shivered.