This breaking up, for the time, of our agricultural settlement took
place in the year 1838. Till then, or a few months before, I had passed
my time between my civilised and uncivilised instructors. But although
educated, 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 received
intelligence of the murder, or disappearance, of our seven white men,
whom the Prince had sent to Monterey to procure cattle, a party was sent
out on their track to ascertain what had really taken place, and at my
request the command of that party was confided to me.
We passed the Buona Ventura, and followed the track of our white men for
upwards of 200 miles, when we not only could trace it no further, but
found our small party of fifteen surrounded by about eighty of our
implacable enemies, the Crows.
By stratagem, we not only broke through them, but succeeded in
surprising seven of their party. My companions would have put them to
death, 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 and
gave chase.
It was fifteen days' travelling to our own country, and we were pursued
by an enemy seven or eight times superior to us in numbers. By various
stratagems, which I shall not dwell upon, aided by the good condition of
our horses, we contrived to escape them, and to bring our prisoners safe
into the settlement. Now, although we had no fighting, yet address is
considered a great qualification. On my return I was therefore admitted
as a chief, with the Indian name Owato Wanisha, or "spirit of the
beaver," as appropriate to my cunning and address. To obtain the rank
of a warrior chief, it was absolutely requisite that I had distinguished
myself on the field of battle.
Before I continue my narration, I must say a little more relative to the
missionaries, who were my instructors. One of them, the youngest,
Polidori, was lost in the Esmeralda, when she sailed for Monterey to
procure cattle. The two others were Padre Marini and Padre Antonio.
They were both highly accomplished and learned. Their knowledge in
Asiatic lore was unbounded, and it was my delight to follow them in
their researches and various theories concerning the early Indian
emigration across the waters of the Pacific.
They were both Italians by birth. They had passed many years of their
lives among the nations west of the Ganges, and in their advanced years
had returned to sunny Italy, to die near the spot where they had played
as little children. But they had met with Prince Seravalle, and when
they heard from him of the wild tribes with whom he had dwelt, and who
knew not God, they considered that it was their duty to go and instruct
them.
Thus did these sincere men, old and broken, with one foot resting on
their tombs, again encounter difficulties and danger, to propagate among
the Indians that religion of love and mercy, which they were appointed
to make known.
Their efforts, however, to convert the Shoshones were fruitless. Indian
nature 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 do
so, they argue upon every dogma and point of faith, and remain
unconvinced. The missionaries, therefore, after a time, contented
themselves with practising deeds of charity, with alleviating their
sufferings when able, from their knowledge of medicine and surgery, and
by moral precepts, softening down as much as they could the fierce and
occasionally cruel tempers of this wild untutored race.
Among other advantages which the Shoshones derived from our
missionaries, was the introduction of vaccination. At first it was
received with great distrust, and indeed violently opposed, but the good
sense of the Indians ultimately prevailed; and I do not believe that
there is one of the Shoshones born since the settlement was formed who
has not been vaccinated; the process was explained by the Padres Marini
and Polidori to the native medical men, and is now invariably practised
by them.
I may as well here finish the histories of the good missionaries. When
I was sent upon an expedition to Monterey, which I shall soon have to
detail, Padre Marini accompanied me. Having failed with the Shoshones,
he considered that he might prove useful by locating himself in the
Spanish settlements of California. We parted soon after we arrived at
Monterey, and I have never seen or heard of him since. I shall,
however, have to speak of him again during our journey and sojourn at
that town.
The other, Padre Antonio, died at the settlement previous to my journey
to Monterey, and the Indians still preserve his robes, missal, and
crucifix, as the relics of a good man. Poor Padre Antonio! I would
have wished to have known the history of his former life. A deep
melancholy was stamped upon his features, from some cause of
heart-breaking grief, which even religion could but occasionally
assuage, but not remove.
After his death, I looked at his missal. The blank pages at the
beginning and the end were filled up with pious reflections, besides
some few words, which spoke volumes as to one period of his existence.
The first words inscribed were: "Julia, obiit A.D. 1799. Virgo
purissima, Maris Stella. Ora pro me." On the following leaf was
written: "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 the
big burning tears rolling fast down his withered cheeks. But he is
gone, and his sorrows are at rest. On the last page of the missal were
also two lines, written in a tremulous hand, probably a short time
previous to his death: "I, nunc anima anceps; sitque tibi Deus
misericors."
The Prince Seravalle did not, however, abandon his plans; having failed
in persuading the Shoshones, at the suggestion of my father, it was
resolved that an attempt should be made to procure a few Mexicans and
Canadians to carry on the agricultural labours; for I may here as well
observe, that both the Prince and my father had long made up their minds
to live and die among the Indians.
This expedition was to be undertaken by me. My trip was to be a long
one. In case I should not succeed in Monterey in enlisting the parties
required, I was to proceed on to Santa Fe, either with a party of
Apaches Indians, who were always at peace with the Shoshones, or else
with one of the Mexican caravans.
In Santa Fe there was always a great number of French and Canadians, who
came every year from St. Louis, hired by the Fur Companies; so that we
had some chance of procuring them. If, however, my endeavours should
prove fruitless, as I should already have proceeded too far to return
alone, I was to continue on from Santa Fe with the fur traders,
returning to St. Louis, on the Mississippi, where I was to dispose of
some valuable jewels, hire men to form a strong caravan, and return to
the settlement by the Astoria trail.
As my adventures may be said but to commence at my departure upon this
commission, I will, before I enter upon my narrative, give the reader
some insight into the history and records of the Shoshones, or Snake
Indians, with whom I was domiciled, and over whom, although so young, I
held authority and command.