MONSIEUR VIOLET (FISCLE PART-IV) by FREDERICK MARRYAT (novel books to read txt) 📖
- Author: FREDERICK MARRYAT
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Worth, I Am Convinced, A Great Deal Of Money.
At The Request Of The Owner, One Of The Present Officers Had Taken
Charge Of The Violin And Packed it Up, Together With His Trunks, In one
Of The Cibolero'S Waggons. We Soon Became Aware Of The Circumstance, And
When We Could Not Get Anything To Eat, Music Became Our Consolation.
Tired as We Were, We Would All Of Us, "At Least The Pale-Faces," Dance
Merrily For Hours Together, After We Had Halted, Till Poor Roche,
Exhausted, Could No Longer Move His Fingers.
We Were At Last Relieved of Our Obligatory Fast, And Enabled to Look
With Contempt Upon The Humble Prickly Pears, Which For Many A Long Day
Had Been Our Only Food. Daily Now We Came Across Herds Of Fat Buffaloes,
And Great Was Our Sport In pursuing The Huge Lord Of The Prairies. One
Of Them, By-The-Bye, Gored my Horse To Death, And Would Likely Have Put
An End To My Adventures, Had It Not Been For The Certain Aim Of Gabriel.
I Had Foolishly Substituted my Bow And Arrows For The Rifle, That I
Might Show My Skill To My Companions. My Vanity Cost Me Dear; For Though
The Bull Was A Fine One, And Had Seven Arrows Driven Through His Neck, I
Lost One Of The Best Horses Of The West, And My Right Leg Was
Considerably Hurt.
Having Been Informed that There Was A Large City Or Commonwealth Of
Prairie Dogs Directly In our Route, I Started on Ahead With My Two
Companions, To Visit These Republicans. We Had A Double Object In view:
First, A Desire To Examine One Of The Republics About Which Prairie
Travellers Have Said So Much; And, Secondly, To Obtain Something To Eat,
As The Flesh Of These Animals Was Said To Be Excellent.
Our Road For Six Or Seven Miles Wound Up The Sides Of A Gently Ascending
Mountain. On Arriving at The Summit, We Found A Beautiful Table-Land
Spread Out, Reaching For Miles In every Direction Before Us. The Soil
Appeared to Be Uncommonly Rich, And Was Covered with A Luxurious Growth
Of Musqueet Trees. The Grass Was Of The Curly Musquito Species, The
Sweetest And Most Nutritious Of All The Different Kinds Of That Grass,
And The Dogs Never Locate Their Towns Or Cities Except Where It Grows In
Abundance, As It Is Their Only Food.
We Had Proceeded but A Short Distance After Reaching This Beautiful
Prairie, Before We Came Upon The Outskirts Of The Commonwealth. A Few
Scattered dogs Were Seen Scampering In, And, By Their Short And Sharp
Yelps, Giving a General Alarm To The Whole Community.
The First Cry Of Danger From The Outskirts Was Soon Taken Up In the
Centre Of The City, And Now Nothing Was To Be Seen In any Direction But
A Dashing and A Scampering Of The Mercurial And Excitable Citizens Of
The Place, Each To His Lodge Or Burrow. Far As The Eye Could Reach Was
Spread The City, And In every Direction The Scene Was The Same. We Rode
Leisurely Along Until We Had Reached the More Thickly Settled portion Of
The City, When We Halted, And After Taking The Bridles From Our Horses
To Allow Them To Graze, We Prepared for A Regular Attack Upon Its
Inhabitants.
The Burrows Were Not More Than Fifteen Yards Apart, With Well-Trodden
Paths Leading In different Directions, And I Even Thought I Could
Discover Something Like Regularity In the Laying Out Of The Streets. We
Sat Down Upon A Bank Under The Shade Of A Musqueet Tree, And Leisurely
Surveyed the Scene Before Us. Our Approach Had Driven Every One In our
Immediate Vicinity To His Home; But Some Hundred yards Off, The Small
Mound Of Earth In front Of A Burrow Was Each Occupied by A Dog Sitting
Straight Up On His Hinder Legs, And Coolly Looking about Him To
Ascertain The Cause Of The Recent Commotion. Every Now And Then Some
Citizen, More Venturous Than His Neighbour, Would Leave His Lodge On A
Flying Visit To A Companion, Apparently To Exchange A Few Words, And
Then Scamper Back As Fast As His Legs Would Carry Him.
By-And-Bye, As We Kept Perfectly Still, Some Of Our Nearer Neighbours
Were Seen Cautiously Poking Their Heads From Out Their Holes And Looking
Cunningly, And At The Same Time Inquisitively, About Them. After Some
Time, A Dog Would Emerge From The Entrance Of His Domicile, Squat Upon
His Looking-Out Place, Shake His Head, And Commence Yelping.
For Three Hours We Remained watching The Movements Of These Animals, And
Occasionally Picking One Of Them Off With Our Rifles. No Less Than Nine
Were Obtained by The Party. One Circumstance I Will Mention As Singular
In The Extreme, And Which Shows The Social Relationship Which Exists
Among These Animals, As Well As The Regard They Have One For Another.
One Of Them Had Perched himself Directly Upon The Pile Of Earth In front
Of His Hole, Sitting Up, And Offering a Fair Mark, While A Companion'S
Head, Too Timid, Perhaps, To Expose Himself Farther, Was Seen Poking Out
Of The Entrance. A Well-Directed shot Carried away The Entire Top Of The
Head Of The First Dog, And Knocked him Some Two Or Three Feet From His
Post, Perfectly Dead. While Reloading, The Other Daringly Came Out,
Seized his Companion By One Of His Legs, And Before We Could Arrive At
The Hole, Had Drawn Him Completely Out Of Reach, Although We Tried to
Twist Him Out With A Ramrod.
There Was A Feeling In this Act--A Something Human, Which Raised the
Animals In my Estimation; And Never After Did I Attempt To Kill One Of
Them, Except When Driven By Extreme Hunger.
The Prairie Dog Is About The Size Of A Rabbit, Heavier, Perhaps, More
Compact, And With Much Shorter Legs. In appearance, It Resembles The
Ground Hog Of The North, Although A Trifle Smaller Than That Animal. In
Their Habits, The Prairie Dogs Are Social, Never Live Alone Like Other
Animals, But Are Always Found In villages Or Large Settlements. They Are
A Wild, Frolicsome Set Of Fellows When Undisturbed, Restless, And Ever
On The Move. They Seem To Take Especial Delight In chattering away The
Time, And Visiting about, From Hole To Hole, To Gossip And Talk Over One
Another'S Affairs; At Least, So Their Actions Would Indicate. Old
Hunters Say That When They Find A Good Location For A Village, And No
Water Is Handy, They Dig A Well To Supply The Wants Of The Community.
On Several Occasions I Have Crept Up Close To One Of Their Villages,
Without Being Observed, That I Might Watch Their Movements. Directly In
The Centre Of One Of Them I Particularly Noticed a Very Large Dog,
Sitting In front Of His Door, Or Entrance To His Burrow, And By His Own
Actions And Those Of His Neighbours, It Really Looked as Though He Was
The President, Mayor, Or Chief; At All Events, He Was The "Big Dog" Of
The Place.
For At Least An Hour I Watched the Movements Of This Little Community;
During That Time, The Large Dog I Have Mentioned received at Least A
Dozen Visits From His Fellow-Dogs, Who Would Stop And Chat With Him A
Few Moments, And Then Run Off To Their Domiciles. All This While He
Never Left His Post For A Single Minute, And I Thought I Could Discover
A Gravity In his Deportment Not Discernible In those By Whom He Was
Addressed. Far Be It From Me To Say That The Visits He Received were
Upon Business, Or Having anything To Do With The Local Government Of The
Village; But It Certainly Appeared as If Such Was The Case. If Any
Animal Is Endowed with Reasoning Powers, Or Has Any System Of Laws
Regulating The Body Politic, It Is The Prairie Dog.
In Different Parts Of The Village The Members Of It Were Seen
Gambolling, Frisking, And Visiting about, Occasionally Turning Heels
Over Head Into Their Holes, And Appearing To Have All Sorts Of Fun Among
Themselves. Owls Of A Singular Species Were Also Seen Among Them; They
Did Not Appear To Join In their Sports In any Way, But Still Seemed to
Be On Good Terms, And As They Were Constantly Entering and Coming Out Of
The Same Holes, They Might Be Considered as Members Of The Same Family,
Or, At Least, Guests. Rattlesnakes, Too, Dwell Among Them; But The Idea
Generally Received among The Mexicans, That They Live Upon Terms Of
Companion Ship With The Dogs, Is Quite Ridiculous, And Without Any
Foundation.
The Snakes I Look Upon As _Loafers_, Not Easily Shaken Off By The
Regular Inhabitants, And They Make Use Of The Dwellings Of The Dogs As
More Comfortable Quarters Than They Could Find Elsewhere. We Killed one
A Short Distance From A Burrow, Which Had Made A Meal Of A Little Pup;
Although I Do Not Think They Can Master Full-Grown Dogs.
This Town, Which We Visited, Was Several Miles In length, And At Least A
Mile In width. Around And In the Vicinity Were Smaller Villages, Suburbs
To The Town. We Kindled a Fire, And Cooked three Of The Animals We Had
Shot; The Meat Was Exceeding Sweet, Tender, And Juicy, Resembling That
Of The Squirrel, Only That There Was More Fat Upon It.
Chapter XIIAmong These Apaches, Our Companions, Were Two Comanches, Who, Fifteen
Years Before, Had Witnessed the Death Of The Celebrated overton. As This
Wretch, For A Short Time, Was Employed as An English Agent By The Fur
Company, His Wild And Romantic End Will Probably Interest The Many
Readers Who Have Known Him; At All Events, The Narrative Will Serve As A
Specimen Of The Lawless Career Of Many Who Resort To The Western
Wilderness.
Some Forty-Four Years Ago, A Spanish Trader Had Settled among A Tribe Of
The Tonquewas[14], At The Foot Of The Green Mountains. He Had Taken An
Indian Squaw, And Was Living There Very Comfortably, Paying No Taxes,
But Occasionally Levying Some, Under The Shape Of Black Mail, Upon The
Settlements Of The Province Of Santa Fe. In one Excursion, However, He
Was Taken And Hung, An Event Soon Forgotten Both By Spaniards And
Tonquewas. He Had Left Behind Him, Besides A Child And A Squaw, Property
To A Respectable Amount; The Tribe Took His Wealth For Their Own Use,
But Cast Away The Widow And Her Offspring. She Fell By Chance Into The
Hands Of A Jolly, Though Solitary Canadian Trapper, Who, Not Having The
Means Of Selecting His Spouse, Took The Squaw For Better And For Worse.
[Footnote 14: The Tonquewas Tribe Sprang From The Comanches Many Years
Ago.]
In The Meantime The Young Half-Breed grew To Manhood, And Early
Displayed a Wonderful Capacity For Languages. The Squaw Died, And The
Trapper, Now Thinking Of The Happy Days He Had Passed among The
Civilized people Of The East, Resolved to Return Thither, And Took With
Him The Young Half-Breed, To Whom By Long Habit He Had Become Attached.
They Both Came To St. Louis, Where The Half-Breed soon Learned enough Of
English To Make Himself Understood, And One Day, Having Gone With His
"Father-In-Law" To Pay A Visit To The Osages, He Murdered him On The
Way, Took His Horse, Fusil, And Sundries, And Set Up For Himself.
For A Long Time He Was Unsuspected, And, Indeed, If He Had Been, He
Cared very Little About It. He Went From Tribe To Tribe, Living an
Indolent Life, Which Suited his Taste Perfectly; And As He Was Very
Necessary To The Indians As An Interpreter During Their Bartering
Transactions With The Whites, He Was Allowed to Do Just As He Pleased.
He Was, However, Fond Of Shifting From Tribe To Tribe, And The Traders
Seeing Him Now With The Pawnies Or The Comanches, Now With The Crows Or
The Tonquewas, Gave Him The Surname Of "Turn-Over," Which Name, Making a
Somersault, Became Over-Turn, And, By Corruption, Overton.
By This Time Everybody Had Discovered that Overton Was A Great
Scoundrel, But As He Was Useful, The English Company From Canada
Employed him, Paying Him Very High Wages. But His Employers Having
Discovered that He Was Almost
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