Chapter 1037: The Blinking Game
Father Vigne recounted the plan to unite the three major Indian tribes, and Hatki nodded immediately.
"You are right, Father. We should have stopped fighting amongst ourselves long ago. The Americans take advantage of our internal strife to keep encroaching on our land!"
"I will help you persuade my uncle."
Vigne was slightly taken aback. "Your uncle?"
"Yes, the Great Harjo is my uncle."
Vigne was overjoyed, and he returned to the chief's residence with Cekili.
Half an hour later.
Chief Harjo exchanged nods with the tribe's elders and priests. He then turned to Cekili and declared, "Since it is a request from the French friends who helped Hatki, we will send two hundred and sixty warriors to New Orleans alongside the Creek tribe."
Indeed, among the Indians Sorel had rescued from slave traders several years ago were Chief Harjo's nephew, Hatki, and his sister.
Hatki and his sister still believed the British government was simply unaware of the Coweta's plight—after all, Britain had funded their struggle against the Americans for over a decade.
So, he had slipped away from the tribe with a few trusted companions, boarded a ship in New Orleans, and crossed the ocean to London, intending to petition the King of England for continued support.
Predictably, George III had no intention of granting an audience to a group of North American natives.
On their second day in England, they were swindled out of all their money and forced onto the streets, where they caught the eye of slave traders who kidnapped them and threw them onto a slave ship.
Fortunately, Hatki's sister was quite beautiful and was sold to a French nobleman. While the slave ship was docked at the Port of Le Havre for a few days, they happened upon the meddling Sorel and were saved.
Afterward, Sorel personally funded their journey back to the Americas.
Hatki had always wanted to go to France to repay the debt, but Harjo would never let him venture to Europe again—until he met Vigne.
Once the Creek and Coweta tribes decided to join forces, the relatively weaker Cusseta tribe had no choice but to join as well; otherwise, they risked having their territory carved up by the two larger groups.
Over the following days, Cekili dispatched tribesmen to contact nearby smaller tribes, eventually amassing a force of over 1,100 warriors who marched toward the Port of New Orleans in a grand procession.
...
Lower Mississippi River.
Woodville.
Brigadier General Anthony Wayne waved a diplomatic letter as he spoke to the federal official before him. "They refused, didn't they?"
The official nodded. "Governor Elcano only agreed to a ten percent increase in navigable vessels. Meanwhile, the Spaniards have been reinforcing the defenses at Baton Rouge."
Wayne tossed the letter back to him and gestured behind him. "It doesn't matter. My cannons have arrived."
"I promise you, in two months at most, you'll be able to include a clause for permanent freedom of navigation in a peace treaty with the Spaniards."
Behind him, soldiers were hitching three 5.5-kilogram heavy cannons to wagons. Further off, more than 2,500 American militiamen were marching south along the Mississippi River in double columns.
At their current pace, they would reach the walls of Baton Rouge in a week.
The Spanish garrison there numbered only about a thousand.
Wayne had received authorization from Congress at the end of last month to seize the Port of New Orleans by force whenever necessary.
Washington was not at all worried about Spanish retaliation.
He knew well that Spain was currently embroiled in a fierce conflict with Britain in Portugal; even if they sent troops to North America, they couldn't sustain a long war.
As long as they could seize New Orleans, the entire Mississippi River would be under American control.
Then they could find excuses to restrict Spanish ships from Louisiana from going to sea through New Orleans. Within a few years, the area would wither, and no one would want to live there.
Meanwhile, Americans would take the opportunity to migrate in large numbers to the west bank of the Mississippi, effectively occupying Louisiana.
The next day.
Wayne was discussing the tactical details of the assault on Baton Rouge with his staff when he suddenly heard a faint commotion from the river.
He turned to see the Mississippi crowded with ships of all sizes, all halted. Numerous sailors stood on the decks, shouting curses.
"Damn it!" Wayne instinctively assumed the Spaniards were threatening him by barring American ships from passing through New Orleans, but he quickly noticed that there were actually more ships flying Spanish flags.
A moment later, a scout on horseback returned to report. "General, the shipowners say the Port of New Orleans is under attack by Indians. Numerous cargo ships have been plundered, and navigation is currently blocked."
"Indians?" Wayne frowned. "How could they have reached New Orleans?"
Even for the Creek tribe, the closest to New Orleans, they would have to pass through two Spanish-controlled provinces, Mobile and Tanexhaya, to reach the city.
The entire journey was over 240 kilometers, with multiple points along the way where they could be intercepted—unless the Indians had grown wings.
Wayne suddenly froze.
No, it wasn't that the Indians could fly; it was that the Spaniards had moved all their soldiers to defend Baton Rouge, leaving a gap for the Indians to exploit!
He shouted anxiously to his staff, "Pass the order—forced march! We must reach New Orleans within six days!"
He had every reason to be frantic; the American cargo ships at New Orleans were the lifeblood of the people along the Mississippi.
For every ship plundered by Indians, countless people would go hungry.
Furthermore, if the Port of New Orleans became unusable, it would deal a devastating blow to the American economy along the Mississippi.
Five days later, Wayne's troops arrived at the gates of Baton Rouge in a rush, only to be immediately greeted by Spanish cannon fire.
Wayne hadn't expected the Spanish army to still be holding their ground. He immediately sent a staff officer to negotiate.
Before long, the officer returned and reported, "General, Elcano is in the city. He demands that we withdraw immediately."
"Curse him!" Wayne raged. "Is he just going to let the Port of New Orleans be ransacked?"
The officer kept his head down. "He said his primary mission is to hold Baton Rouge. He has no time to deal with Indians for now."
"That fool!" Wayne hesitated for a moment before instructing his officer, "Go tell Elcano that my army will temporarily retreat eighty kilometers. Let him handle those Indians first. I promise not to attack Baton Rouge during that time."
"Yes, General!"
An hour later, the officer returned again, his face grim. "General, Elcano says he cannot trust us. He says he would rather bear the losses at the port."
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