The Wandering Jew — Volume 02 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 198 pages of information about The Wandering Jew Volume 02.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE AMBUSCADE

The half-blood Faringhea, wishing doubtless to escape from the dark thoughts which the words of the Indian on the mysterious course of the Cholera had raised within him, abruptly changed the subject of conversation.  His eye shone with lurid fire, and his countenance took an expression of savage enthusiasm, as he cried:  “Bowanee will always watch over us, intrepid hunters of men!  Courage, brothers, courage!  The world is large; our prey is everywhere.  The English may force us to quit India, three chiefs of the good work—­but what matter?  We leave there our brethren, secret, numerous, and terrible, as black scorpions, whose presence is only known by their mortal sting.  Exiles will widen our domains.  Brother, you shall have America!” said he to the Hindoo, with an inspired air.  “Brother, you shall have Africa!” said he to the negro.  “Brothers, I will take Europe!  Wherever men are to be found, there must be oppressors and victims—­wherever there are victims, there must be hearts swollen with hate—­it is for us to inflame that hate with all the ardor of vengeance!  It is for us, servants of Bowanee, to draw towards us, by seducing wiles, all whose zeal, courage, and audacity may be useful to the cause.  Let us rival each other in devotion and sacrifices; let us lend each other strength, help, support!  That all who are not with us may be our prey, let us stand alone in the midst of all, against all, and in spite of all.  For us, there must be neither country nor family.  Our family is composed of our brethren; our country is the world.”

This kind of savage eloquence made a deep impression on the negro and the Indian, over whom Faringhea generally exercised considerable influence, his intellectual powers being very superior to theirs, though they were themselves two of the most eminent chiefs of this bloody association.  “Yes, you are right, brother!” cried the Indian, sharing the enthusiasm of Faringhea; “the world is ours.  Even here, in Java, let us leave some trace of our passage.  Before we depart, let us establish the good work in this island; it will increase quickly, for here also is great misery, and the Dutch are rapacious as the English.  Brother, I have seen in the marshy rice-fields of this island, always fatal to those who cultivate them, men whom absolute want forced to the deadly task—­they were livid as corpses—­some of them worn out with sickness, fatigue, and hunger, fell—­never to rise again.  Brothers, the good work will prosper in this country!”

“The other evening,” said the half-caste, “I was on the banks of the lake, behind a rock; a young woman came there—­a few rags hardly covered her lean and sun-scorched body—­in her arms she held a little child, which she pressed weeping to her milkless breast.  She kissed it three times, and said to it:  ’You, at least, shall not be so unhappy as your father’—­and she threw it into the lake.  It uttered one wail, and disappeared.  On this cry, the alligators, hidden amongst the reeds, leaped joyfully into the water.  There are mothers here who kill their children out of pity.—­Brothers, the good work will prosper in this country!”

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The Wandering Jew — Volume 02 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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