CHAPTER THREE.
This breaking up, for the time, of our agricultural settlement tookplace in the year 1838. Till then, or a few months before, I had passedmy time between my civilised and uncivilised instructors. But althougheducated, I was an Indian, not only in my dress but in my heart.
I mentioned that in the council called by the Prince I was present,having been admitted as a chief, being then about seventeen years old.My admission was procured in the following manner: when we receivedintelligence of the murder, or disappearance, of our seven white men,whom the Prince had sent to Monterey to procure cattle, a party was sentout on their track to ascertain what had really taken place, and at myrequest the command of that party was confided to me.
We passed the Buona Ventura, and followed the track of our white men forupwards of 200 miles, when we not only could trace it no further, butfound our small party of fifteen surrounded by about eighty of ourimplacable enemies, the Crows.
By stratagem, we not only broke through them, but succeeded insurprising seven of their party. My companions would have put them todeath, but I would not permit it. We secured them on their own horses,and made all the haste we could, but the Crows had discovered us andgave chase.
It was fifteen days' travelling to our own country, and we were pursuedby an enemy seven or eight times superior to us in numbers. By variousstratagems, which I shall not dwell upon, aided by the good condition ofour horses, we contrived to escape them, and to bring our prisoners safeinto the settlement. Now, although we had no fighting, yet address isconsidered a great qualification. On my return I was therefore admittedas a chief, with the Indian name Owato Wanisha, or "spirit of thebeaver," as appropriate to my cunning and address. To obtain the rankof a warrior chief, it was absolutely requisite that I had distinguishedmyself on the field of battle.
Before I continue my narration, I must say a little more relative to themissionaries, who were my instructors. One of them, the youngest,Polidori, was lost in the Esmeralda, when she sailed for Monterey toprocure cattle. The two others were Padre Marini and Padre Antonio.They were both highly accomplished and learned. Their knowledge inAsiatic lore was unbounded, and it was my delight to follow them intheir researches and various theories concerning the early Indianemigration across the waters of the Pacific.
They were both Italians by birth. They had passed many years of theirlives among the nations west of the Ganges, and in their advanced yearshad returned to sunny Italy, to die near the spot where they had playedas little children. But they had met with Prince Seravalle, and whenthey heard from him of the wild tribes with whom he had dwelt, and whoknew not God, they considered that it was their duty to go and instructthem.
Thus did these sincere men, old and broken, with one foot resting ontheir tombs, again encounter difficulties and danger, to propagate amongthe Indians that religion of love and mercy, which they were appointedto make known.
Their efforts, however, to convert the Shoshones were fruitless. Indiannature would seem to be a nature apart and distinct. The red men,unless in suffering or oppression, will not listen to what they call"the smooth honey words of the pale-faced sages;" and even when they doso, they argue upon every dogma and point of faith, and remainunconvinced. The missionaries, therefore, after a time, contentedthemselves with practising deeds of charity, with alleviating theirsufferings when able, from their knowledge of medicine and surgery, andby moral precepts, softening down as much as they could the fierce andoccasionally cruel tempers of this wild untutored race.
Among other advantages which the Shoshones derived from ourmissionaries, was the introduction of vaccination. At first it wasreceived with great distrust, and indeed violently opposed, but the goodsense of the Indians ultimately prevailed; and I do not believe thatthere is one of the Shoshones born since the settlement was formed whohas not been vaccinated; the process was explained by the Padres Mariniand Polidori to the native medical men, and is now invariably practisedby them.
I may as well here finish the histories of the good missionaries. WhenI was sent upon an expedition to Monterey, which I shall soon have todetail, Padre Marini accompanied me. Having failed with the Shoshones,he considered that he might prove useful by locating himself in theSpanish settlements of California. We parted soon after we arrived atMonterey, and I have never seen or heard of him since. I shall,however, have to speak of him again during our journey and sojourn atthat town.
The other, Padre Antonio, died at the settlement previous to my journeyto Monterey, and the Indians still preserve his robes, missal, andcrucifix, as the relics of a good man. Poor Padre Antonio! I wouldhave wished to have known the history of his former life. A deepmelancholy was stamped upon his features, from some cause ofheart-breaking grief, which even religion could but occasionallyassuage, but not remove.
After his death, I looked at his missal. The blank pages at thebeginning and the end were filled up with pious reflections, besidessome few words, which spoke volumes as to one period of his existence.The first words inscribed were: "Julia, obiit A.D. 1799. Virgopurissima, Maris Stella. Ora pro me." On the following leaf waswritten: "Antonio de Campestrina, Convient. Dominicum. In Roma, A.D.1800."
Then he had embraced a monastic life upon the death of one dear to him--perhaps his first and only love. Poor man! many a time have I seen thebig burning tears rolling fast down his withered cheeks. But he isgone, and his sorrows are at rest. On the last page of the missal werealso two lines, written in a tremulous hand, probably a short timeprevious to his death: "I, nunc anima anceps; sitque tibi Deusmisericors."
The Prince Seravalle did not, however, abandon his plans; having failedin persuading the Shoshones, at the suggestion of my father, it wasresolved that an attempt should be made to procure a few Mexicans andCanadians to carry on the agricultural labours; for I may here as wellobserve, that both the Prince and my father had long made up their mindsto live and die among the Indians.
This expedition was to be undertaken by me. My trip was to be a longone. In case I should not succeed in Monterey in enlisting the partiesrequired, I was to proceed on to Santa Fe, either with a party ofApaches Indians, who were always at peace with the Shoshones, or elsewith one of the Mexican caravans.
In Santa Fe there was always a great number of French and Canadians, whocame every year from St. Louis, hired by the Fur Companies; so that wehad some chance of procuring them. If, however, my endeavours shouldprove fruitless, as I should already have proceeded too far to returnalone, I was to continue on from Santa Fe with the fur traders,returning to St. Louis, on the Mississippi, where I was to dispose ofsome valuable jewels, hire men to form a strong caravan, and return tothe settlement by the Astoria trail.
As my adventures may be said but to commence at my departure upon thiscommission, I will, before I enter upon my narrative, give the readersome insight into the history and records of the Shoshones, or SnakeIndians, with whom I was domiciled, and over whom, although so young, Iheld authority and command.