12 nov 1848 anni - Indian Resistance

Descrizione:

As luck would have it, some of the fiercest tribes in all of California inhabited the southern mining district east of John Frémont’s Mariposa estate.

The fierceness of the locals kept white miners at bay initially, allowing the Indians to take the leading role in working the placers. But the Indians had no use themselves for the gold they collected; they benefited only by trading it to white merchants who had the guns, bullets, knives, and other items the Indians desired.

These merchants were much like other Indian traders throughout the West. As middlemen the traders possessed some of the qualities of the cultures on either side of them. Among the whites they behaved as whites, among the Indians as Indians. It was a difficult balancing act, and often a dangerous one.

The last of the holdouts were a band of the Yosemite tribe. With the aid of some Indians who acted as scouts, the Mariposa militiamen captured the old Yosemite chief Teneiya. Shortly after his capture Teneiya came upon the body of his favorite son, who had been killed under circumstances even some of the whites found distressing. The young man had been captured, but was allowed to attempt an escape, whereupon he was gunned down by a member of the battalion—“who had been led by an old Texan sinner to think that killing Indians or Mexicans was a duty,” an angry Bunnell explained.

The sight of his dead son pushed Teneiya to the point of despair. “Kill me, sir captain!” he implored of the officer in charge (in Spanish, as Bunnell recalled the speech). “Yes, kill me, as you killed my son; as you would kill my people if they would come to you! You would kill all my race if you had the power.… You have made me sorrowful, my life dark. You killed the child of my heart; why not kill the father?” But then he offered a warning. Wait a little; when I am dead I will call to my people to come to you. I will call louder than you have had me call, that they shall hear me in their sleep, and come to avenge the death of their chief and his son. Yes, sir American, my spirit will make trouble for you and your people, as you have caused trouble to me and my people. With the wizards, I will follow the white men and make them fear me. You may kill me, sir captain, but you shall not live in peace. I will follow in your footsteps; I will not leave my home but be with the spirits among the rocks, the water-falls, in the rivers and in the winds. Wheresoever you go I will be with you. You will not see me, but you will fear the spirit of the old chief, and grow cold. The great spirits have spoken! I am done.

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