The Travels and Adventures of Monsieur Violet in California, Sonora, and Western Texas

by Frederick Marryat

  CHAPTER XIV.

  Time passed away till I and my companions were heartily tired of ourinactivity: besides, I was home-sick, and I had left articles of greatvalue at the settlement, about which I was rather fidgety. So one day wedetermined that we would start alone, and return to the settlement by adifferent road. We left Santa Fe and rode towards the north, and it wasnot until we had passed Taos, the last Mexican settlement, that webecame ourselves again and recovered our good spirits. Gabriel knew theroad; our number was too small not to find plenty to eat, and as to thehostile Indians, it was a chance we were willing enough to encounter. Afew days after we had quitted Santa Fe, and when In the neighbourhoodof the Spanish Peaks and about thirty degrees north latitude, we fell inwith a numerous party of the Comanches.

  It was the first time we had seen them in a body, and it was a grandsight. Gallant horsemen they were and well mounted. They were out uponan expedition against the Pawnee[15] Loups, and they behaved to us withthe greatest kindness and hospitality. The chief knew Gabriel, andinvited us to go in company with them to their place of encampment. Thechief was a tall, fine fellow, and with beautiful symmetry of figure. Hespoke Spanish well, and the conversation was carried on in that tongueuntil the evening, when I addressed him in Shoshone, which beautifuldialect is common to the Comanches, Apaches, and Arrapahoes, and relatedto him the circumstances of our captivity on the shores of the Coloradoof the West. As I told my story the chief was mute with astonishment,until at last, throwing aside the usual Indian decorum, he grasped mefirmly by the hand. He knew I was neither a Yankee nor a Mexican, andswore that for my sake every Canadian or Frenchman falling in theirpower should be treated as a friend. After our meal we sat comfortablyround the fires, and listened to several speeches and traditions ofthe warriors.

  [Footnote 15: The word Pawnee signifies "_exiled_;" therefore it doesnot follow that the three tribes bearing the same name belong to thesame nation.

  The Grand Pawnees, the tribe among whom Mr. Murray resided, are ofDahcotah origin, and live along the shores of the river Platte; thePawnee Loups are of the Algonquin race, speaking quite another language,and occupying the country situated between the northern forks of thesame river. Both tribes are known among the trappers to be the "Crows ofthe East;" that is to say, thieves and treacherous. They cut their hairshort except on the scalp, as is usual among the nations which they havesprung from.

  The third tribe of that name is called Pawnee Pict; these are ofComanche origin and Shoshone race, wearing their hair long, and speakingthe same language as all the western great prairie tribes. They liveupon the Red River, which forms the boundary betwixt North Texas and theWestern American boundary, and have been visited by Mr. Catlin, whomentions them in his work. The Picts are constantly at war with the twoother tribes of Pawnees; and though their villages are nearly onethousand miles distant from those of their enemy, their war-partiesare continually scouring the country of the "Exiles of theEast"--"_Pa-wah-nejs_."]

  One point struck me forcibly during my conversation with that noblewarrior. According to his version, the Comanches were in the beginningvery partial to the Texans, as they were brave, and some of themgenerous. But he said that afterwards, as they increased their numbersand established their power, they became a rascally people, cowards andmurderers. One circumstance above all fire the blood of the Comanches,and since that time it has been and will be with them a war ofextinction against the Texans.

  An old Comanche, with a daughter, had separated himself from theirtribe. He was a chief, but he had been unfortunate, and being sick, heretired to San Antonio to try the skill of the great pale-face medecin.His daughter was a noble and handsome girl of eighteen, and she had notbeen long in the place before she attracted the attention of a certaindoctor, a young man from Kentucky, who had been tried for murder in theStates. He was the greatest scoundrel in the world, but being adesperate character, he was feared, and, of course, courted by hisfellow Texans.

  Perceiving that he could not succeed in his views so long as the girlwas with her father, he contrived to throw the old man into gaol, andinducing her to come to his house to see what could be done to releasehim, he abused her most shamefully, using blows and violence toaccomplish his purpose, to such a degree, that he left her for dead.Towards the evening, she regained some strength, and found a shelter inthe dwelling of some humane Mexican.

  The old Indian was soon liberated: he found his daughter, but it was onher death-bed, and then he learned the circumstances of the shamefultransaction, and deeply vowed revenge. A Mexican gentleman, indignant atsuch a cowardly deed, in the name of outraged nature and humanity, laidthe cause before a jury of Texans. The doctor was acquitted by the Texanjury, upon the ground that the laws were not made for the benefit of theComanches.

  The consequences may be told in a few words. One day Dr. Cobbet wasfound in an adjoining field stabbed to the heart and scalped. The Indianhad run away, and meeting with a party of Comanches, he related hiswrongs and his revenge. They received him again into the tribe, but theinjury was a national one, not sufficiently punished: that weektwenty-three Texans lost their scalps, and fourteen women were carriedinto the wilderness, there to die in captivity.

  The Comanche chief advised us to keep close to the shores of the RioGrande, that we might not meet with the parties of the Pawnee Loups; andso much was he pleased with us, that he resolved to turn out of his wayand accompany us with his men some thirty miles farther, when we shouldbe comparatively out of danger. The next morning we started, the chiefand I riding close together and speaking of the Shoshones. We exchangedour knives as a token of friendship, and when we parted, he assembledall his men and made the following speech:--

  "The young chief of the Shoshones Is returning to his brave peopleacross the rugged mountains. Learn his name, so that you may tell yourchildren that they have a friend in Owato Wanisha. He Is neither aShakanath (an Englishman) nor a Kishemoc Comoanak (a long knife, aYankee). He Is a chief among the tribe of our great-grandfathers, he isa chief, though he is very, very young."

  At this moment all the warriors came, one after the other, to shakehands with me, and when this ceremony was terminated, the chief resumedhis discourse.

  "Owato Wanisha, we met as strangers, we part as friends. Tell your youngwarriors you have been among the Comanches, and that we would like toknow them. Tell them to come, a few or many, to our _waikiams_ (lodges);they will find the moshkotaj (buffalo) in plenty.

  "Farewell, young chief, with a pale face and an Indian heart; the earthbe light to thee and thine. May the white Manitou clear for thee themountain path, and may you never fail to remember _Opishka Toaki_ (theWhite Raven), who is thy Comanche friend, and who would fain share withthee his home, his wealth, and his wide prairies. I have said: youngbrother, farewell."

  The tears stood in our eyes as gallantly the band wheeled round. Wewatched them till they had all disappeared in the horizon. And thesenoble fellows were Indians; had they been Texans, they would havemurdered us to obtain our horses and rifles.

  Two days after, we crossed the Rio Grande, and entered the dreary pathof the mountains In the hostile and Inhospitable country of the Navahoesand the Crows[16].

  [Footnote 16: The Crows are gallant horsemen; but although they haveassumed the manners and customs of the Shoshones, they are of theDahcotah breed. There is a great difference between the Shoshone tribesand the Crows. The latter want that spirit of chivalry so remarkableamong the Comanches, the Arrapahoes, and the Shoshones--that nobility offeeling which scorns to take an enemy at a disadvantage, I should saythat the Shoshone tribes are the lions and the Crows the tigers of thesedeserts.]

  We had been travelling eight days on a most awful stonyroad, when at last we reached the head waters of the Colorado of theWest, but we were very weak, not having touched any food during the lastfive days, except two small rattlesnakes, and a few berries we hadpicked up on the way. On the morning we had chased a large grizzly bear,but to no purpose; our poor horses and oursel
ves were too exhausted tofollow the animal for any time, and with its disappearance vanished awayall hopes of a dinner.

  It was evening before we reached the river, and, by that time, we wereso much maddened with hunger, that we seriously thought of killing oneof our horses. Luckily, at that instant, we espied smoke rising from acamp of Indians in a small valley. That they were foes we had no doubt;but hunger can make heroes, and we determined to take a meal at theirexpense. The fellows had been lucky, for around their tents they hadhung upon poles large pieces of meat to dry. They had no horses, andonly a few dogs scattered about the camp. We skirted the plain insilence, and at dark we had arrived at three hundred yards from them,concealed by the projecting rocks which formed a kind of belt aroundthe camp.

  Now was our time. Giving the Shoshone war-whoop, and making as muchnoise as we could, we spurred on our horses, and in a few moments eachof us had secured a piece of meat from the poles. The Crows (for thecamp contained fifteen Crows and three Arrapahoes), on hearing thewar-whoop, were so terrified that they had all run away without everlooking behind them; but the Arrapahoes stood their ground, and havingrecovered from their first surprise, they assaulted us bravely withtheir lances and arrows.

  Roche was severely bruised by his horse falling, and my pistol, bydisabling his opponent, who was advancing with his tomahawk, saved hislife. Gabriel had coolly thrown his lasso round his opponent, and hadalready strangled him, while the third had been in the very beginning ofthe attack run over by my horse. Gabriel lighted on the ground, enteredthe lodges, cut the strings of all the bows he could find, and,collecting a few more pieces of the meat, we started at a full gallop,not being inclined to wait till the Crows should have recovered fromtheir panic. Though our horses were very tired, we rode thirteen milesmore that night, and, about ten o'clock, arrived at a beautiful spotwith plenty of fine grass and cool water, upon which both we and ourhorses stretched ourselves most luxuriously even before eating.

  Capital jokes were passed round that night while we were discussing thequalities of the mountain-goat flesh, but yet I felt annoyed at ourfeat; the thing, to be sure, had been gallantly done, still it wasnothing better than highway robbery. Hunger, however, is a goodpalliative for conscience, and, having well rubbed our horses, whoseemed to enjoy their grazing amazingly, we turned to repose, watchingalternately for every three hours.

  The next day at noon we met with unexpected sport and company. As wewere going along, we perceived two men at a distance, sitting closetogether upon the ground, and apparently in a vehement conversation. Asthey were white men, we dismounted and secured our horses, and thencrept silently along until we were near the strangers. They were twovery queer-looking beings; one long and lean, the other short and stout.

  "Bless me," the fat one said, "bless me, Pat Swiney, but I think theFrenchers will never return, and so we must die here like starved dogs."

  "Och," answered the thin one, "they have gone to kill game. By St.Patrick, I wish it would come, raw or cooked, for my bowels are twistinglike worms on a hook."

  "Oh, Pat, be a good man; can't you go and pick some berries? my stomachis like an empty bag."

  "Faith, my legs ain't better than yours," answered the Irishman, pattinghis knee with a kind of angry gesture. And for the first time weperceived that the legs of both of them were shockingly swollen.

  "If we could only meet with the Welsh Indians or a gold mine," resumedthe short man.

  "Botheration," exclaimed his irascible companion. "Bother them all--theWelsh Indians and the Welsh English."

  "Faith, my legs ain't better than yours."]

  We saw that hunger had made the poor fellows rather quarrelsome, so wekindly interfered with a tremendous war-whoop. The fat one closed hiseyes, and allowed himself to fall down, while his fellow in misfortunerose up in spite of the state of his legs.

  "Come," roared he, "come, ye rascally red devils, do your worst withoutmarcy, for I am lame and hungry."

  There was something noble in his words and pathetic in the action.Roche, putting his hand on his shoulder, whispered some Irish words inhis ear, and the poor fellow almost cut a caper. "Faith," he said, "ifyou are not a Cork boy you are the devil; but devil or no, for the sakeof the old country, give us something to eat--to me and that poor Welshdreamer. I fear your hellish yell has taken the life out of him."

  Such was not the case. At the words "something to eat," the fellowopened his eyes with a stare, and exclaimed--

  "The Welsh Indians, by St. David!"

  We answered him with a roar of merriment that rather confused him, andhis companion answered--

  "Ay! Welsh Indians or Irish Indians, for what I know. Get up, will ye,ye lump of flesh, and politely tell the gentlemen that we have tastednothing for the last three days."

  Of course, we lost no time in lighting a fire and bringing our horses.The meat was soon cooked, and it was wonderful to see how quickly itdisappeared in the jaws of our two new friends. We had yet about twelvepounds of it, and we were entering a country where game would be founddaily, so we did not repine at their most inordinate appetites, but, onthe contrary, encouraged them to continue. When the first pangs ofhunger were a little soothed, they both looked at us with moist andgrateful eyes.

  "Och," said the Irishman, "but ye are kind gentlemen, whatever you maybe, to give us so good a meal when, perhaps, you have no more."

  Roche shook him by the hand. "Eat on, fellow," he said, "eat on, andnever fear. We will afterwards see what can be done for the legs." As tothe Welshman, he never said a word for a full half-hour. He would look,but could neither speak nor hear, so intensely busy was he with anenormous piece of half-raw flesh, which he was tearing and swallowinglike a hungry wolf. There is, however, an end to everything, and whensatiety had succeeded to want, they related to us the circumstance thathad led them where they were.

  They had come as journeymen with a small caravan going from St. Louis toAstoria. On the Green River they had been attacked by a war-party of theBlack-feet, who had killed all except them, thanks to the Irishman'spresence of mind, who pushed his fat companion into a deep fissure ofthe earth, and jumped after him. Thus they saved their bacon, and hadsoon the consolation of hearing the savages carrying away the goods,leading the mules towards the north. For three days they had wanderedsouth, in the hope of meeting with some trappers, and this very morningthey had fallen in with two French trappers, who told them to remainthere and repose till their return, as they were going after game.

  While they were narrating their history, the two trappers arrived with afat buck. They were old friends, having both of them travelled andhunted with Gabriel. We resolved not to proceed any further that day,and they laughed a great deal when we related to them our prowessagainst the Crows. An application of bruised leaves of the Gibson weedupon the legs of the two sufferers immediately soothed their pain, andthe next morning they were able to use Roche's and Gabriel's horses, andto follow us to Brownhall, an American fur-trading port, which place wereached in two days.

  There we parted from our company, and rapidly continued our marchtowards the settlement. Ten days did we travel thus in the heart of afine country, where game at every moment crossed our path. We arrived inthe deserted country of the Bonnaxes, and were scarcely two days'journey from the Eastern Shoshone boundary, when, as ill-luck would haveit, we met once more with our old enemies the Arrapahoes. This time,however, we were determined not to be put any more on dog's meatallowance, and to fight, if necessary, in defence of our liberty.

  We were surrounded, but not yet taken; and space being ours and ourrifles true, we hoped to escape, not one of our enemies having, as wewell knew, any firearms. They reduced their circle smaller and smaller,till they stood at about a hundred and fifty yards from us; their horsesfat and plump, but of the small wild breed, and incapable of running arace with our tall and beautiful Mexican chargers. At that momentGabriel raised his hand, as if for a signal; we all three darted likelightning through the line of warriors, who were too m
uch taken bysurprise even to use their bows. They soon recovered from theirastonishment, and giving the war-whoop, with many ferocious yells ofdisappointment, dashed after us at their utmost speed.

  Their horses, as I have said, could not run a race with ours, but in along chase their hardy little animals would have had the advantage,especially as our own steeds had already performed so long a journey.During the two first hours we kept them out of sight, but towards dark,as our beasts gave in, we saw their forms in the horizon becoming moreand more distinct, while, to render our escape less probable, we foundourselves opposed in front by a chain of mountains, not high, but verysteep and rugged.

  "On, ahead, we are safe!" cried Gabriel. Of course, there was no timefor explanation, and ten minutes more saw us at the foot of themountain. "Not a word, but do as I do," again said my companion. Wefollowed his example by unsaddling our animals and taking off thebridles, with which we whipped them. The poor things, though tired,galloped to the south, as if they were aware of the impending danger.

  "I understand, Gabriel," said I; "the savages cannot see us in theshades of these hills; they will follow our horses by the sounds."

  Gabriel chuckled with delight. "Right," said he, "right enough, but itis not all. I know of a boat on the other side of the mountain, and theOgden river will carry us not far from the Buona Ventura."

  I started. "A mistake," I exclaimed, "dear friend, a sad mistake; we aremore than thirty miles from the river."

  "From the main river, yes," answered he, shaking my hand, "but many anotter have I killed in a pretty lake two miles from here, at thesouthern side of this hill. There I have a boat well concealed, as Ihope; and it is a place where we may defy all the Arrapahoes, and theCrows to back them. From that lake to the river it is but thirty miles'paddling in a smooth canal, made either by nature or by a former raceof men."

  I need not say how cheerfully we walked these two miles, in spite of theweight of our saddles, rifles, and accoutrements. Our ascent was soonover, and striking into a small tortuous deer-path, we perceived belowus the transparent sheet of water, in which a few stars alreadyreflected their pale and tremulous light. When we reached the shore ofthe lake, we found ourselves surrounded by vast and noble ruins, likethose on the Buona Ventura, but certainly much more romantic. Gabrielwelcomed us to his trapping-ground, as a lord in his domain, and soonbrought out a neat little canoe from under a kind of ancient vault.

  "This canoe," said he, "once belonged to one of the poor fellows thatwas murdered with the Prince Seravalle. We brought it here six years agowith great secrecy; it cost him twenty dollars, a rifle, and sixblankets. Now, in the middle of this lake there is an island, where heand I lived together, and where we can remain for months without anyfear of Indians or starvation."

  We all three entered the canoe, leaving our saddles behind us, torecover them on the following day. One hour's paddling brought us to theisland, and it was truly a magnificent spot. It was covered with ruins;graceful obelisks were shaded by the thick foliage of immense trees, andthe soft light of the moon, beaming on the angles of the ruinedmonuments, gave to the whole scenery the hue of an Italian landscape.

  "Here we are safe," said Gabriel, "and to-morrow you will discover thatmy old resting-place is not deficient in comfort."

  As we were very tired, we lay down and soon slept, forgetting in thislittle paradise the dangers and the fatigues of the day. Our host'srepose, however, was shorter than mine, for long before morn he had goneto fetch our saddles. Roche and I would probably have slept till hisreturn, had we not been awakened by the report of a rifle, which camedown to us, repeated by a thousand echoes. An hour of intense anxietywas passed, till at last we saw Gabriel paddling towards us. The soundof the rifle had, however, betrayed our place of concealment, and asGabriel neared the island, the shore opposite to us began to swarm withour disappointed enemies, who in all probability had camped in theneighbourhood. As my friend landed, I was beginning to scold him for hisimprudence in using his rifle under our present circumstances, when aglance showed me at once he had met with an adventure similar to minenear Santa Fe. In the canoe lay the skin of a large finely-spottedjaguar, and by it a young cub, playing unconsciously with thescalping-knife, yet reeking in its mother's blood.

  "Could not help it,--self-defence!" exclaimed he, jumping on shore. "Nowthe red devils know where we are, but it is a knowledge that brings themlittle good. The lake is ten fathoms in depth, and they will not swimthree miles under the muzzles of our rifles. When they are tired ofseeing us fishing, and hearing us laughing, they will go away likedisappointed foxes."

  So it proved. That day we took our rifles and went in the canoe towithin eighty yards of the Indians, on the mainland, we fishing fortrouts, and inviting them to share in our sport. They yelled awfully,and abused us not a little, calling us by all the names their rage couldfind: squaws, dogs of Pale-faces, cowards, thieves, &c. At last,however, they retired in the direction of the river, hoping yet to haveus in their power; but so little had we to fear, that we determined topass a few days on the island, that we might repose from our fatigues.

  When we decided upon continuing our route, Gabriel and Roche wereobliged to leave their saddles and bridles behind, as the canoe was toosmall for ourselves and luggage. This was a misfortune which could beeasily repaired at the settlement, and till then, saddles, of course,were useless. We went on merrily from forty-five to fifty miles everyday, on the surface of the most transparent and coolest water in theworld. During the night we would land and sleep on the shore. Game wasvery plentiful, for at almost every minute we would pass a stag or abull drinking; sometimes at only twenty yards, distance.

  During this trip on the Ogden river, we passed four other magnificentlakes, but not one of them bearing any marks of former civilization, ason the shores of the first one which had sheltered us. We left the rivertwo hundred and forty miles from where we had commenced our navigation,and, carrying our canoe over a portage of three miles, we launched itagain upon one of the tributaries of the Buona Ventura, two hundredmiles north-east from the settlement.

  The current was now in our favour, and in four days more we landed amongmy good friends, the Shoshones, who, after our absence of nine months,received us with almost a childish joy. They had given us up for dead,and suspecting the Crows of having had a hand in our disappearance,they had made an invasion into their territory.

  Six days after our arrival our three horses were perceived swimmingacross the river; the faithful animals had also escaped from ourenemies, and found their way back to their masters and theirnative prairies.