They returned to the fort, in the words of Laudonniere, "angry and
pricked deepely to the quicke for being so mocked," and, joined by all
their comrades, fiercely demanded to be led against Outina, to seize
him, punish his insolence, and extort from his fears the supplies which
could not be looked for from his gratitude. The commandant was forced to
comply. Those who could bear the weight of their armor put it on,
embarked, to the number of fifty, in two barges, and sailed up the river
under Laudonniere himself. Having reached Outina's landing, they marched
inland, entered his village, surrounded his mud-plastered palace, seized
him amid the yells and howlings of his subjects, and led him prisoner to
their boats. Here, anchored in mid-stream, they demanded a supply of
corn and beans as the price of his ransom.

The alarm spread. Excited warriors, bedaubed with red, came thronging
from all his villages. The forest along the shore was full of them; and
the wife of the chief, followed by all the women of the place, uttered
moans and outcries from the strand. Yet no ransom was offered, since,
reasoning from their own instincts, they never doubted that, after the
price was paid, the captive would be put to death.

Laudonniere waited two days, and then descended the river with his
prisoner. In a rude chamber of Fort Caroline the sentinel stood his
guard, pike in hand, while before him crouched the captive chief, mute,
impassive, and brooding on his woes. His old enemy, Satouriona, keen as
a hound on the scent of prey, tried, by great offers, to bribe
Laudonniere to give Outina into his hands; but the French captain
refused, treated his prisoner kindly, and assured him of immediate
freedom on payment of the ransom.

Meanwhile his captivity was bringing grievous affliction on his