MONSIEUR VIOLET (FISCLE PART-IV) - FREDERICK MARRYAT (books to read this summer txt) 📗

They Must Both Struggle And Fight Till One Sun Is

Thrown Into Darkness, Or One Eagle, Blind And Winged, Falls Down The

Rocks And Leaves The Whole Nest To Its Conqueror. The Arrapahoes Would

Not Fight A Cowardly Crow, Except For Self-Defence, For He Smells Of

Carrion; Nor Would A Shoshone.

 

 

 

"Crows, Umbiquas, And Flat-Heads, Cayuses, Bonnaxes, And Callapoos Can

Hunt All Together And Rest Together; They Are The Blackbirds And The

Parrots; They Must Do So, Else The Eagle Should Destroy Them During The

Day, Or The Hedgehog During The Night.

 

 

 

"Now, Owato Wanisha, Or His Manitou, Has Offered a Bold Thing. I Have

Thought Of It, I Have Spoken Of It To The Spirits Of The Red-Skin; They

Said It Was Good; I Say It Is Good! I Am A Chief Of Many Winters; I Know

What Is Good, I Know What Is Bad! Shoshones, Hear Me! My Voice Is Weak,

Come Nearer; Hearken To My Words, Hist! I Hear A Whisper Under The

Ripples Of The Water, I Hear It In the Waving Of The Grass, I Feel It On

The Breeze!--Hist, It Is The Whisper Of The Master Of Life,--Hist!"

 

 

 

At This Moment The Venerable Chief Appeared abstracted, His Face

Flushed; Then Followed a Trance, As If He Were Communing With Some

Invisible Spirit. Intensely And Silently Did The Warriors Watch The

Struggles Of His Noble Features; The Time Had Come In which The Minds Of

The Shoshones Were Freed of Their Prejudices, And Dared to Contemplate

The Prospective Of A Future General Domination Over The Western

Continent Of America. The Old Chief Raised his Hand, And He

Spoke Again:--

 

 

 

"Children, For You Are My Children! Warriors, For You Are All Brave!

Chiefs, For You Are All Chiefs! I Have Seen A Vision. It Was A Cloud,

And The Manitou Was Upon It. The Cloud Gave Way, And Behind I Saw A Vast

Nation, Large Cities, Rich Wigwams, Strange Boats, And Great Parties Of

Warriors, Whose Trail Was So Long That I Could Not See The Beginning Nor

The End. It Was In a Country Which I Felt Within Me Was Extending From

The North, Where All Is Ice, Down To The South, Where All Is Fire! Then

A Big Voice Was Heard! It Was Not A War-Whoop, It Was Not The Yell Of

The Fiends, It Was Not The Groan Of The Captive Tied to The Stake; It

Was A Voice Of Glory, That Shouted the Name Of The Shoshones--For All

Were Shoshones. There Were No Pale-Faces Among Them--None! Owato Wanisha

Was There, But He Had A Red skin, And His Hair Was Black; So Were His

Two Fathers, But They Were Looking Young; So Was His Aged and Humble

Friend, But His Limbs Seemed to Have Recovered all The Activity And

Vigour Of Youth; So Were His Two Young Friends, Who Have Fought So

Bravely At The Post, When The Cowardly Umbiquas Entered our Grounds.

This Is All What I Have Heard, All What I Have Seen; And The Whisper

Said To Me, As The Vision Faded away, 'Lose No Time, Old Chief, The Day

Has Come! Say To Thy Warriors, Listen To The Young Pale-Face. The Great

Spirit Of The Red-Skin Will Pass Into His Breast, And Lend Him Some

Words That The Shoshone Will Understand.'

 

 

 

"I Am Old And Feeble; I Am Tired; Arise, My Grandson Owato Wanisha;

Speak To My Warriors; Tell Them The Wishes Of The Great Spirit. I

Have Spoken."

 

 

 

Thus Called upon, I Advanced to The Place Which The Chief Had Left

Vacant, And Spoke In my Turn:--

 

 

 

"Shoshones, Fathers, Brothers, Warriors,--I Am A Pale-Face, But You Know

All My Heart Is A Shoshone'S. I Am Young, But No More A Child. It Is But

A Short Time Since That I Was A Hunter; Since That Time The Manitou Has

Made Me A Warrior, And Led me Among Strange And Distant Tribes, Where He

Taught Me What I Should Do To Render The Shoshones A Great People. Hear

My Words, For I Have But One Tongue; It Is The Tongue Of My Heart, And

In My Heart Now Dwells The Good Spirit. Wonder Not, If I Assume The Tone

Of Command To Give Orders; The Orders I Will Give Are The Manitou'S.

 

 

 

"The Twelve Wisest Heads Of The Shoshones Will Go To The Arrapahoes.

With Them They Will Take Presents; They Will Take Ten Sons Of Chiefs,

Who Have Themselves Led men On The War-Path; They Will Take Ten Young

Girls, Fair To Look At, Daughters Of Chiefs, Whose Voices Are Soft As

The Warbling Of The Birds In the Fall. At The Great Council Of The

Arrapahoes, The Ten Girls Will Be Offered to Ten Great Chiefs, And Ten

Great Chiefs Will Offer Their Own Daughters To Our Ten Young Warriors;

They Will Offer Peace For Ever; They Will Exchange All The Scalps, And

They Will Say That Their Fathers, The Shoshones, Will Once More Open

Their Arms To Their Brave Children. Our Best Hunting-Ground Shall Be

Theirs; They Will Fish The Salmon Of Our Rivers; They Will Be Arrapahoes

Shoshones; We Will Become Shoshones Arrapahoes. I Have Already Sent To

The Settlement Of The Watchinangoes My Ancient Pale-Face Friend Of The

Stout Heart And Keen Eye; Shortly We Will See At The Post A Vessel With

Arms, Ammunition, And Presents For The Nation. I Will Go Myself With A

Party Of Warriors To The Prairies Of The Apaches, And Among The

Comanches.

 

 

 

"Yet I Hear Within Me A Stout Voice, Which I Must Obey. My Grandfather,

The Old Chief, Has Said He Should Be No More A Chief. It Was Wrong, Very

Wrong; The Manitou Is Angry. Is The Buffalo Less A Buffalo When He Grows

Old, Or The Eagle Less An Eagle When A Hundred winters Have Whitened his

Wings? No! Their Nature Cannot Change, Not More Than That Of A Chief And

That Chief, A Chief Of The Shoshones!

 

 

 

"Owato Wanisha Will Remain What He Is; He Is Too Young To Be The Great

Chief Of The Whole Of A Great Nation. His Wish Is Good, But His Wisdom

Is Of Yesterday; He Cannot Rule. To Rule Belongs To Those Who Have

Deserved doing So, By Long Experience. No! Owato Wanisha Will Lead His

Warriors To The War-Path, Or Upon The Trail Of The Buffalo; He Will Go

And Talk To The Grandchildren Of The Shoshones; More He Cannot Do!

 

 

 

"Let Now The Squaws Prepare The Farewell Meal, And Make Ready The Green

Paint; To-Morrow I Shall Depart, With Fifty Of My Young Men. I

Have Spoken."

 

 

 

The Council Being Broken Up, I Had To Pass Through The Ceremony Of

Smoking The Pipe And Shaking Hands With Those Who Could Call Themselves

Warriors. On The Following Morning, Fifty Magnificent Horses, Richly

Caparisoned, Were Led to The Lawn Before The Council Lodge. Fifty

Warriors Soon Appeared, In their Gaudiest Dresses, All Armed with The

Lance, Bow, And Lasso, And Rifle Suspended across The Shoulder. Then

There Was A Procession Of All The Tribe, Divided into Two Bands, The

First Headed by The Chiefs And Holy Men; The Other, By The Young

Virgins. Then The Dances Commenced; The Elders Sang Their Exploits Of

Former Days, As An Example To Their Children; The Voting Men Exercised

Themselves At The War-Post; And The Matrons, Wives, Mothers, Or Sisters

Of The Travellers Painted their Faces With Green And Red, As A Token Of

The Nature Of Their Mission. When This Task Was Performed, The Whole Of

The Procession Again Formed their Ranks, And Joined in a Chorus, Asking

The Manitou For Success, And Bidding Us Farewell. I Gave The Signal; All

My Men Sprang Up In their Saddles, And The Gallant Little Band, After

Having Rode Twice Round The Council Lodge, Galloped away Into

The Prairie.

 

 

 

Two Days After Us, Another Party Was To Start For The Country Of The

Arrapahoes, With The View Of Effecting a Reconciliation Between Our

Two Tribes.

Chapter XVI

At This Time, The Generally Bright Prospects Of California Were Clouding

Over. Great Changes Had Taken Place In the Mexican Government, New

Individuals Had Sprung Into Power, And Their Followers Were Recompensed

With Dignities And Offices. But, As These Offices Had Been Already

Filled by Others, It Was Necessary To Remove The Latter, And,

Consequently, The Government Had Made Itself More Enemies.

 

 

 

Such Was The Case In california; But That The Reader May Understand The

Events Which Are To Follow, It Is Necessary To Draw A Brief Sketch Of

The Country. I Have Already Said That California Embraces Four Hundred

Miles Of Sea-Coast Upon The Pacific Ocean. On The East, It Is Bounded by

The Californian Gulf, Forming, In fact, A Long Peninsula. The Only Way

Of Arriving at It By Land, From The Interior Of Mexico, Is To Travel

Many Hundred miles North, Across The Wild Deserts Of Sonora, And Through

Tribes Of Indians Which, From The Earliest Records Down To Our Days,

Have Always Been Hostile To The Spaniards, And, Of Course, To The

Mexicans. Yet Far As California Is--Too Far Indeed for The Government Of

Mexico To Sufficiently Protect It, Either From Indian Inroads Or From

The Depredations Of Pirates, By Which, Indeed, The Coast Has Much

Suffered--It Does Not Prevent The Mexican Government From Exacting Taxes

From The Various Settlements--Taxes Enormous In themselves, And So

Onerous, That They Will Ever Prevent These Countries From Becoming What

They Ought To Be, Under A Better Government.

 

 

 

The Most Northerly Establishment Of Mexico On The Pacific Ocean Is San

Francisco; The Next, Monterey; Then Comes San Barbara, St. Luis Obispo,

Buona Ventura, And, Finally, St. Diego; Besides These Seaports, Are Many

Cities In the Interior, Such As St. Juan Campestrano, Los Angelos, The

Largest Town In california, And San Gabriel. Disturbances, Arising From

The Ignorance And Venality Of The Mexican Dominion, Very Often Happen

In These Regions; New Individuals Are Continually Appointed to Rule

Them; And These Individuals Are Generally Men Of Broken Fortunes And

Desperate Characters, Whose Extortions Become So Intolerable That, At

Last, The Californians, In spite Of Their Lazy Dispositions, Rise Upon

Their Petty Tyrants. Such Was Now The Case At Monterey. A New Governor

Had Arrived; The Old General Morreno Had, Under False Pre-Texts, Been

Dismissed, And Recalled to The Central Department, To Answer To Many

Charges Preferred against Him.

 

 

 

The New Governor, A Libertine Of The Lowest Class Of The People, Half

Monk And Half Soldier, Who Had Carved his Way Through The World By

Murder, Rapine, And Abject Submission To His Superiors, Soon Began To

Stretch An Iron Hand Over The Townspeople. The Montereyans Will Bear

Much, Yet Under Their Apparent Docility And Moral Apathy There Lurks A

Fire Which, Once Excited, Pours Forth Flames Of Destruction. Moreover,

The Foreigners Established in monterey Had, For A Long Time, Enjoyed

Privileges Which They Were Not Willing To Relinquish; And As They Were,

Generally Speaking, Wealthy, They Enjoyed a Certain Degree Of Influence

Over The Lower Classes Of The Mexicans.

 

 

 

Immediately After The First Extortion Of The New Governor, The

Population Rose _En Masse_, And Disarmed the Garrison. The Presidio Was

Occupied by The Insurgents, And The Tyrant Was Happy To Escape On Board

An English Vessel, Bound To Acapulco.

 

 

 

However, On This Occasion The Montereyans Did Not Break Their Fealty To

The Mexican Government; They Wanted justice, And They Took It Into Their

Own Hands. One Of The Most Affluent Citizens Was Unanimously Selected

Governor _Pro Tempore,_ Till Another Should Arrive, And They Returned to

Their Usual Pleasures And Apathy, Just As If Nothing Extraordinary Had

Happened. The Name Of The Governor Thus Driven Away Was Fonseca. Knowing

Well That Success Alone Could Have Justified his Conduct, He Did Not

Attempt To Return To Mexico, But Meeting With Some Pirates, At That Time

Ravaging The Coasts In the Neighbourhood Of Guatimala, He Joined them,

And, Excited by Revenge And Cupidity, He Conceived the Idea Of

Conquering California For Himself. He Succeeded in enlisting Into His

Service Some 150 Vagabonds From All Parts Of The Earth--Runaway Sailors,

Escaped criminals, And, Among The Number, Some Forty Sandwich

Islanders, Brave And Desperate Fellows, Who Were Allured with The Hopes

Of Plunder.

 

 

 

I May As Well Here Mention, That There Is A Great Number Of