“Since the meeting I have had several talks with the settlers, and the result has been my conviction, that they will not accept your generous offer. They, no doubt, wish to take up more land, and think it cannot be done if they bind themselves to put up fences by accepting your proposition. How short-sighted they are time alone will show, for at present they will not listen to reason.”
“I am very sorry. There is no alternative for me but to sell all my cattle as soon as possible, and in the meantime drive all I can to the mountains.”
“But that will be ruinous, father. How can we herd them in the mountains? They will all become wild and run away,” said Victoriano.
“I am afraid they will. I am sure of it, in fact. But there is no other way to save any at all.”
“I think this ‘no fence’ law the most scandalous, bare-faced outrage upon the rights of citizens that I ever heard of,” said Clarence, warmly. “It is like setting irresponsible trespassers loose upon a peaceable people, and then rewarding their outrage. To let any one take up your lands right before your eyes is outrage enough, but to cap the climax by authorizing people to plant crops without fences and then corral your cattle, which must be attracted to the green grass, I call positively disgraceful, in a community which is not of vandals. It is shameful to the American name. I am utterly disgusted with the whole business, and the only thing that will make matters a little tolerable to me will be for you to do me the favor of permitting me to pay for the land we have located.”
“Does your father wish to pay?”
“I do not know whether he would or not. I fear he would not. My father is a blind worshiper of the Congress of these United States, and consequently it is difficult to persuade him that our legislators might possibly do wrong. He believes that Congress has the right to declare all California open to pre-emption, and all American citizens free to choose any land not already patented. Thus, he thinks he has the right to locate on your land (according to law, mind you), because he believes your title has been rejected. But as my faith in our law-givers is not so blind, my belief is that Congress had no more right to pass any law which could give an excuse to trespass upon your property, than to pass a law inviting people to your table. I feel a sort of impatience to think that in our country could exist a law which is so outrageously unjust. My pride as an American is somewhat different from that of my father. He thinks it is a want of patriotism to criticise our legislation. Whereas, I think our theory of government is so lofty, so grand and exalted, that we must watch jealously that Congress may not misinterpret it; misrepresent the sentiments, the aspirations of the American people, and thus make a caricature of our beautiful ideal. It is our duty and privilege to criticise our laws, and criticise severely. As long as you, the native Californians, were to be despoiled of your lands, I think it would have been better to have passed a law of confiscation. Then we would have stood before the world with the responsibility of that barbarous act upon own shoulders. That would have been a national shame, but not so great as that of guaranteeing, by treaty, a protection which was not only withheld, but which was denied,—snatched away, treacherously,—making its denial legal by enactments of retroactive laws. This I call disgraceful to the American name. Therefore, in my humble way and limited sphere, if I cannot repeal, I will at least evade such unjust laws to the best of my ability, and make them ineffective as far as I am individually concerned. I only wish I could wipe out those stains on our national honor, by repealing at once laws so discreditable to us. Yes, the more so, as they bear directly upon the most defenseless, the most powerless of our citizens—the orphaned Spano-Americans. So, then, I hope you will help me to avoid this American shame, by permitting me to pay for our land whatever price you think just.”
“Very well,” said Don Mariano, pleased with Clarence's honest warmth, and to hear him express opinions and sentiments so very similar to his own. “You can pay whatever you wish, or we can make an agreement that I will sell to you when I get my patent. Such is my understanding with Mr. Mechlin and also with your father.”
“That is rather vague. I would prefer to pay to you now so much per acre. With the understanding that my father (or any one else) is not to know I have made this purchase. I mean not for the present.”
“Would your father object to it?”