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Let us begin at the beginning, at an event without which Diego de la Vega
would not have been born. It happened in Alta California, in the San
Gabriel mission in the year 1790 of Our Lord. At that time the mission was
under the charge of Padre Mendoza, a Franciscan who had the shoulders of a
woodcutter and a much younger appearance than his forty well-lived years
warranted. He was energetic and commanding, and the most difficult part of
his ministry was to emulate the humility and sweet nature of Saint Francis
of Assisi. There were other Franciscan friars in the region supervising
the twenty-three missions and preaching the word of Christ among a
multitude of Indians from the Chumash, Shoshone, and other tribes who were
not always overly cordial in welcoming them. The natives of the coast of
California had a network of trade and commerce that had functioned for
thousands of years. Their surroundings were very rich in natural
resources, and the tribes developed different specialties. The Spanish
were impressed with the Chumash economy, so complex that it could be
compared to that of China. The Indians had a monetary system based on
shells, and they regularly organized fairs that served as an opportunity
to exchange goods as well as contract marriages.

Those native peoples were confounded by the mystery of the crucified man
the whites worshipped, and they could not understand the advantage of
living contrary to their inclinations in this world in order to enjoy a
hypothetical well-being in another. In the paradise of the Christians,
they might take their ease on a cloud and strum a harp with the angels,
but the truth was that in the afterworld most would rather hunt bears with
their ancestors in the land of the Great Spirit. Another thing they could
not understand was why the foreigners planted a flag in the ground, marked
off imaginary lines, claimed that area as theirs, and then took offense if
anyone came onto it in pursuit of a deer. The concept that you could
possess land was as unfathomable to them as that of dividing up the sea.
When Padre Mendoza received news that several tribes led by a warrior
wearing a wolf’s head had risen up against the whites, he sent up prayers
for the victims, but he was not overly worried; he was sure that San
Gabriel would be safe. Being a communicant of his mission was a privilege,
as demonstrated by the number of native families that sought his
protection in exchange for being baptized, and who happily stayed on
beneath his roof. The padre had never had to call on soldiers to “recruit”
converts. He attributed the recent insurrection, the first in Alta
California, to abuses inflicted by Spanish troops and to the severity of
his fellow missionaries. The many small local tribes had different customs
and communicated using a system of signing. They had never banded together
for any reason other than trade, and certainly not in a common war.
According to Padre Mendoza, those poor creatures were innocent lambs of
God who sinned out of ignorance, not vice. If they were rebelling against
the colonizers, they must have good reason.

Father Mendoza worked tirelessly, elbow to elbow with the Indians, in the
fields, tanning hides, and grinding corn. In the evenings, when everyone
else was resting, he treated injuries from minor accidents or pulled a
rotted tooth. In addition, he taught the catechism classes and arithmetic,
to enable the neophytes, as the baptized Indians were called, to count
hides, candles, corn, and cows, but no reading or writing, which was
learning that had no practical application in that place. At night he made
wine, kept accounts, wrote in his notebooks, and prayed. By dawn he was
ringing the church bell to call people to mass, and after morning rites he
supervised breakfast with a watchful eye, so no one would go without food.
For these reasons – and not an excess of self-confidence or vanity – he
was convinced that the rebelling tribes would not attack his mission.
However, when the bad news continued to arrive for several weeks, he
finally paid attention. He sent a pair of his most loyal scouts to find
out what was happening in other parts of the region; in no time at all
they had located the warring Indians and gathered a full report, owing to
the fact that they were received as brothers by the very Indians they were
sent to spy on. They returned and told the missionary that a hero who had
emerged from the depths of the forest and was possessed by the spirit of a
wolf had succeeded in uniting several tribes; their goal was to drive the
Spanish from the lands of their Indian ancestors, where they had always
been free to hunt. The rebels lacked a clear strategy; they simply
attacked missions and towns on the impulse of the moment, burning whatever
lay in their path, and then disappearing as quickly as they had come. They
filled out their ranks by recruiting neophytes who had not gone soft from
the prolonged humiliation of serving whites. The scouts added that this
Chief Gray Wolf had his eye on San Gabriel, not because of any particular
quarrel with Padre Mendoza, whom he had nothing against, but because of
the location of the good father’s mission. In view of this information,
the missionary had to take measures. He was not disposed to lose the fruit
of his labor of years, and even less disposed to have his neophytes
spirited away. Once they left the mission, his Indians would fall prey to
sin and return to living like savages, he wrote in a message he sent to
Captain Alejandro de la Vega, asking for immediate aid. He feared the
worst, he added, because the rebels were very near by; they could attack
at any moment, and he could not defend himself without adequate military
reinforcements. He sent identical missives to the Presidio in San Diego,
entrusted to two swift horsemen using different routes, so if one were
intercepted the other would reach the fort.

(Continues…)




Excerpted from Zorro
by Isabel Allende Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.



HarperCollins


ISBN: 0-06-077897-0


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