CHAPTER VII.

  GUETZALLI.

  Were we writing a romance there are many details we would leave in theshade, many facts we should pass over in silence. Unfortunately weare only historians, and, as such, compelled to the most scrupulousexactitude.

  In the first episode of this history we related how the Count deLhorailles, at the head of 150 Frenchmen, selected from the colony ofGuetzalli, which he had founded, let himself be led in pursuit of theApache Indians into the great Del Norte desert; and how, after wanderingabout with his party in the midst of this ocean of shifting sand, andseeing his bravest comrades fall around him, he had blown out hisbrains, while, in a few hours after his death, the few Frenchmen whosurvived this great disaster succeeded in emerging from the desert andregaining the road to the colony.

  The Frenchmen left at Guetzalli beheld the arrival of the relics ofthe expedition with stupor, and the news of the Count de Lhorailles'death completed their demoralisation. Abandoned without chiefs, so farfrom their country, in the midst of an enemy's territory, exposed atany moment to the attacks of the Apaches, they gave way to despair, andseriously revolved the question of leaving the colony and returning tothe seacoast. The Count de Lhorailles, who founded the settlement, was,in fact, the soul of it. He dead, his companions felt in themselvesneither the necessary energy nor strength to continue his work--awork which, indeed, they knew but imperfectly, for the count had noconfidants among the men who had joined him. Jealous of his power, andnaturally of a reserved temper, he had never confided to anyone hisplans or his projects.

  The Frenchmen who had followed him--for the most part greedyadventurers, devoured by that inextinguishable thirst for gold which hadmade them give up everything to go to America--had been cruelly deceivedin their hopes, when, on disembarking in Mexico, that classic land ofriches, the count, instead of leading them to gold or silver mines,which they would have worked and filled their pockets abundantly, tookthem to the Mexican frontier, and forced them to, till the soil.

  Thus, when the first moment of stupor had passed, each colonist,acting under the impression of his own will, began his preparations fordeparture, in his heart well pleased at seeing an exile thus terminatedwhich was beset by dangers, while offering none of the advantagesof the situation. It was all over with the colony; but fortunately,wherever a number of Frenchmen are assembled, when the indispensableman disappears, another immediately arises, who, impelled by thecircumstances, reveals himself suddenly to the great amazement of hiscomrades, and frequently of himself.

  Among the colonists at Guetzalli was a young man scarce thirty yearsof age, but gifted with an ardent imagination and a far from commonintellect. This young man, whose name was Charles de Laville, had leftEurope, impelled rather by a certain restlessness of character andsecret curiosity than by a desire to acquire the boasted riches ofSan Francisco. In that city, to which he proceeded with his brother,an older and more earnest man than himself, chance had made himacquainted with the Count de Lhorailles. The count exercised, perhapsunconsciously, an irresistible influence even over those who knew himsuperficially. When ho organised his expedition he had no difficulty intaking with him Charles de Laville, who followed him in spite of hisbrother's wise recommendations.

  The count, who was a connoisseur in his fellow-men, appreciated at itsfull value the honourable and disinterested character of Charles deLaville. Thus he was the only one of all his companions with whom heat times spoke almost freely, and imparted to him some of his plans.He knew that the young man would never turn this confidence againsthim, but that, on the contrary, under all circumstances, he would aidhim to the utmost of his power. When the count was on the point ofstarting on that disastrous expedition from which he was fated never toreturn--an expedition which de Laville obstinately opposed--it was tothe latter gentleman that he intrusted the government and management ofthe colony during his absence, persuaded that in his hands the affairsof Guetzalli could not but prosper. De Laville accepted the confidentialsituation against his will. It was a heavy burden for him, so young andinexperienced, to maintain an active surveillance over men to whom anyrestraint, however slight, was insupportable, and who only obeyed with asecret murmur the will of the count, for whom they experienced a respectmingled with fear.

  Still, against his expectations, and perhaps his hopes, Charles deLaville succeeded, in a very short time, not only in securing theunmurmuring obedience of his countrymen, but also in gaining theirlove. It was owing to this influence which he contrived to gain overthe colonists that, when the remnants of the expedition arrived atGuetzalli, he succeeded in restoring some degree of order in the colony,arousing the courage of his comrades, and taking the proper defensivemeasures in the probable event of an Apache attack.

  He gave the first outburst of grief time to calm; he waited thesubsidence of the exaggerated anger of one party, and the equallyexaggerated fears of another; and when he perceived that, excepting theprofound discouragement that had seized on all, and made them desirea speedy retreat, their minds were beginning to regain their ordinarylucidity, he summoned the colonists to a general meeting. The lattereagerly obeyed, and assembled in the large courtyard in front of themain building. When de Laville was assured that all the colonists wereassembled, and anxiously awaiting the communication he had to make tothem, he claimed a few moments' attention and took the word.

  "Gentlemen," he said, with that facility of speech he possessed in aneminent degree, "I am the youngest, and certainly the most inexperiencedof all present; hence it would not become me to speak at this moment,when such grave interests, and of such great importance, occupy us.Still, perhaps, the confidence the Count de Lhorailles was kindenough to place in me will authorise me in taking the present step ofaddressing you."

  "Speak, speak--you are worthy of that confidence!" the colonists shoutedtumultuously.

  Thus encouraged, the young man smiled pleasantly and continued:--

  "It is true that a great disaster has fallen on us: many of ourcompanions have perished miserably in the great Del Norte desert. Thecount who brought us here, our chief, is dead too. I repeat it, it is animmense loss for us generally, and for the welfare of the colony. Butis the misfortune, though so terrible, irreparable? Ought we, throughthis death, to lose all our courage, and abandon a task which is scarcecommenced? I do not think so, nor do you."

  At these words a few slight murmurs were heard. The young man lookedcalmly around his audience, and silence was re-established as if byenchantment.

  "No," he continued forcibly, "you do not think so yourselves. You areundergoing at this moment the influence of the catastrophe that hasoverwhelmed us: discouragement has seized upon you. It must be so; butyou will soon reflect on the consequences of the act you are meditating,and the chance that will result from it for yourselves. What! twohundred Frenchmen--that is to say, the bravest men in existence--wouldfly through fear of the lances and arrows of those Apaches whom it istheir mission to hold in check? What would the Mexicans think, in whoseopinion you have stood so high up to the present day? What would yourbrethren in California say? In the sight of all you would have losthonour and reputation; for you would have betrayed your duties, and notforced that name and title of Frenchmen, of which you are so proud, tobe respected in these savage countries."

  At these rude words, uttered with that accent which comes from theheart, so suited to move the masses, the colonists began, in spite ofthemselves to regard the question under a different light, and feelinwardly ashamed of the flight they meditated. Still they were not yetconvinced, the more so as the position remained the same; that is tosay, excessively critical. Thus the shouts, murmurs, and objectionscrossed each other with extreme rapidity, each wishing to offer hisadvice, and have his opinion accepted, as generally happens in popularmeetings. One of the colonists succeeded with great difficulty ingaining the word, and addressed the young man.

  "There is truth in what you say to us, M. Charles: still we cannotremain in our present situation--a situation
which becomes daily moreaggravated, and threatens soon to grow insupportable. What is the remedyfor the evil?"

  "The remedy is easy to find," the young man answered quickly. "Is it myplace to point it out to you?"

  "Yes, yes!" all exclaimed.

  "Well, then, I consent. Listen to me."

  There was immediately profound silence.

  "We are two hundred strong--resolute and intelligent men. Can we notfind among us, then, a chief worthy of commanding us? We have lost theman who has hitherto guided us; but must we say that, since he is dead,no one can take his place? That supposition would be absurd. The Countde Lhorailles was not immortal. We must have expected to lose him sooneror later, and unfortunately that foreseen catastrophe has occurredere it was expected. Is that a reason to let ourselves be demoralisedand downcast? No; let us raise our heads again, regain our courage,and elect as our chief the man who offers us the best guarantees ofintelligence and loyalty. Such a man may be easily found among you.Come, comrades, let us have no delay, but vote on the spot. When ourchief is nominated and recognised by all, we shall no longer fear perilsor sufferings, for we shall have a head to guide us, and an arm tosupport us."

  These words raised the joy and enthusiasm of the colonists to thehighest pitch. They broke up into groups of three or four, and agitatedthe question eagerly of the chief they should select.

  During this period, de Laville, apparently indifferent to what waspassing, re-entered the house, leaving his companions full and entireliberty to act as they pleased. We will observe that the advice givenby the young man was disinterested on his part: he had no intention oftaking upon himself the heavy responsibility of a command which he didnot at all desire. His object in urging the Frenchmen to elect a chiefhad been to prevent the ruin of the colony, which had been foundedscarce a year, which, owing to their combined efforts and toil, wasbeginning to give good results, and which, if the colonists did notdisperse, would soon enter on a career of prosperity, and repay them ahundredfold for their troubles and fatigue.

  The discussion among the colonists was lengthy: in all the groupsorators were speaking warmly; in short, there seemed no chance of anagreement. Still, by degrees, the effervescence calmed down; the partiesdrew nearer; and under the influence of a few men more intelligent orbetter disposed than the rest, the discussion went on more regularly andseriously. At length, after many disputes, the colonists were unanimous,and selected one among them to tell Charles de Laville the result oftheir deliberations. The man selected entered the house, while thecolonists arranged themselves with some degree of order before the gate.

  Charles, as we have said, did not trouble himself at all about whatwas going on outside. The death of the count, to whom, in spite ofthe latter's eccentric character, he was really attached, had notonly saddened him, but broken the last ties that attached him to thisforgotten nook of earth, where he believed that there was nothing leftfor him to do. He therefore only awaited the election of the new chiefto bid good-by to the members of the company, and then separate fromthem. When the man delegated by the colonists entered the room where hewas, he raised his head, and looked earnestly at him.

  "Well," he asked him, "have we a new chief at last?"

  "Yes," the other answered laconically.

  "Who is he?" the young man asked with some curiosity.

  "Our comrades will tell you, M. Charles," he replied. "They haveauthorised me to ask you to have the kindness to be present at theelection, and thus sanction it."

  "That is only right," he said with a smile. "I forgot that, up to thepresent, I have been your chief, and that I must hand over to the leaderyou have selected the power the count delegated to me. I follow you."

  The other bowed without a word, and both left the house. When theyappeared in the gateway, the colonists, hitherto silent, uttered aformidable shout, while waving their hats and handkerchiefs in signsof joy. The young man turned quite surprised to his companion, but thelatter merely smiled. After this explosion of shouts of welcome, silencewas at once restored. Then the delegate removed his hat, and afterbowing respectfully to the young man, who was all confused, and hardlyknew which way to look, said in a loud and perfectly distinct voice,--

  "Charles de Laville, we, the colonists of Guetzalli, after assembling,in accordance with your advice, to proceed to the election of a newchief, have recognised that you alone combine all the conditionsnecessary worthily to fill that post to which the confidence of thechief we have lost called you. In consequence, wishing to honour in youthe memory of our deceased chief, at the same time as we desire to proveto you our gratitude for the way in which you have governed us since youhave been at our head, we unanimously appoint you captain of Guetzalli,persuaded that you will continue to command us with as much nobility,intelligence, and justice as you have hitherto displayed."

  Then, taking from one of the colonists the charter which united all themembers of the colony, and which the count had made them all sign whenhe enlisted them, he unfolded it.

  "Captain," he said, "this charter-party, read in a loud voice by me,will be immediately sworn to by all. Will you swear on your side toprotect us, to defend us, and give us good and loyal justice toward andagainst all?"

  The young man took off his hat, extended his arm toward the crowd, andsaid in a firm voice,--

  "I swear it."

  "Long live the captain!" the colonists shouted enthusiastically. "Thecharter--the charter!"

  The reading commenced. After each article the colonists answered in onevoice,--

  "I swear it."

  There was something imposing in the aspect of this scene. These men,with their energetic features and bronzed faces, thus assembled inthe heart of the desert, surrounded by the grand scenery, swearing inthe face of heaven unbounded devotion and obedience, bore a strikinglikeness to the famous filibusters of the sixteenth century preparing toattempt one of their bold expeditions, and swearing on the charter inthe hands of Montbars the exterminator, or any other renowned chief ofTortoise Island.

  When the reading was completed a fresh outbreak of shouts closed thissimple ceremony of the election of a chief of adventurers in the desertsof the New World. This time--accidentally, perchance--the choice ofall had fallen on the most worthy. Charles de Laville was really theonly man capable of repairing the disasters of the late expedition,and leading the colony back to that prosperous path on which it wasprogressing previously to the death of Lhorailles.