The Adventures of Saturnin Farandoul

by Albert Robida

  Farandoul continued: “I’ve got another idea. I know that New York wants to have an obelisk like the ones in Paris, Rome and London—and Munich, which has one made of zinc. I’ll offer New York one of the great pyramids; except that, as the enterprise will be difficult to mount, it’s another business in which we’ll have to sell shares.”

  “What about the financial crisis?” Mandibul observed.

  “Yes, the financial crisis that’s had America in its grip for two years will be a considerable hindrance; capital is in short supply. Oh well, as I want to launch myself into business without delay, I’ll look for a third idea, a third project of lesser importance, in which we won’t be impeded by that obstacle.”

  Indeed, business was distinctly stagnant at that time and the capitalists, tested by too many disasters, were refusing to get involved in adventurous schemes. Finally, thanks to his lucky star, Farandoul got his hands on a sufficiently important, though slightly vulgar, business. It was a matter of providing a large workshop making luxury footwear with the rattlesnake skins necessary to its production. The provision of crocodile skins had been taken on by hunters in Florida, so only the provision of snakeskins remained, which could not be undertaken by amateurs because of the immense risks involved.

  Farandoul thought about it, had a flash of inspiration, and took the job. However, as he did not care to appear to be occupied with mere shoemaking, he cleverly put about the rumor that he had obtained an official commission to furnish rattles to the president for the American deliberative assemblies, and that the needs of this more elevated commerce would take him to Brazil, into the land of the boicinongas, sucuruyus and other rattlesnakes.45

  The newspapers of New York, followed by those of London, announced to the world that the former conqueror of Australia, inspired by motives that were both humanitarian and commercial, was going to relieve Brazil of rattlesnakes and equip the assemblies of all the America republics: the United States, Mexico, Guatemala, Costa Rica, Honduras, Nicaragua, Venezuela, etc, etc…

  While the Old and New Worlds were taking in interest in Farandoul’s new enterprise, the expedition organized by the man in question disembarked at Macapa at the mouth of the Amazon, in the northern part of Brazil, south of the equator.

  We shall pass rapidly over our hero’s commercial career; it was brilliant but of short duration; much more important events and much more hazardous enterprises await us. We shall only mention the manner in which the great rattlesnake hunt was conducted and explain how the firm of Farandoul, Mandibul & Co. made vast profits in very little time.

  The company’s base of operations was established at the place where the Amazon meets the most important of its tributaries on the right bank, the Rio Madeira, in the territory of the Iguarahna, Mundurucu and Tacahuna Indians—brave savages who wear parrot-feathers in their hair and very elegant multi-colored tattoos. What colorists these savages are! It’s there that the government should send our Prix de Rome!46

  Saturnin and his little troop set forth boldly into the immense virgin forest that covers hundreds of leagues of those territories; it was necessary to clear a path with hatchet-blows though the dense vegetation flourishing fervently beneath the ardent radiation that the Brazilian Sun had poured over that fortunate land for tens of thousands of years. Thousands of lianas hanging down from gigantic trees of unknown species, intertwined in a limitless web, were attacked bravely by the sailors. Finally, in the very heart of a territory swarming with snakes, the real operation got under way.

  What might the large boxes carried through the forest by native bearers hired by Farandoul contain? The sailors did not know and often asked Mandibul; the latter always replied. “Wait and see!”

  The day came when everyone could see. To the great amazement of the mariners, and especially the natives, the open boxes revealed a cargo of superb polished boots and a job lot of little red balloons! To add to the strangeness, the marvelous boots, equipped with improbably long spurs, were not in pairs; seaman Tournesol, the most intrigued of all, even established that there were only 17 left boots, as opposed to 24 right boots. What was the solution of the mystery?

  Farandoul began speaking. “My dear friends,” he said, “the moment has come to disabuse you! You might have assumed, until now, that we are going to hunt rattlesnakes as one hunts rabbits, with eyes peeled and rifles in hand. No, no, no. As courageous men, you are ready to confront these terrible reptiles, but know that I have never had any thought of risking precious lives in a merely commercial enterprise! I have found a means of rendering this hunt as facile and as free of danger as that of wild rabbits. Here are our weapons: well-polished boots! The natives who surround us are unfamiliar with the usage of these masterpieces of American cobbling; one of them, whom I suspect of being a former cannibal, has even tried to bite into one of the boots. The rattlesnakes are even less familiar with them and will allow themselves to be captured all the more easily, for these false boots are quite simply rattlesnake-traps!”

  And Farandoul launched into a detailed explanation of the procedure to the men charged with its application. As we shall see them at work, we can dispense with revealing the secret ahead of time. Besides, it was not long before the reptiles made the acquaintance of Farandoul’s boots. Immediately after the unwrapping of the snake-traps the entire troop set off into the forest, hatchets in their belts and rifles over their shoulders.

  Within a few hours, 50 traps were placed in suitable places in a few forest clearings; the boots, standing up in the long grass, shone like mirrors in the bright sunlight, while a red signal-balloon swayed in the least breath of wind at the end of a thread attached like a lace to each boot.

  When these preparations had been completed, all the hunters returned to the camp and took a leisurely siesta, only troubled by a surfeit of mosquitoes.

  If we remain on watch near one of the traps, we shall understand Farandoul’s invention in all its beauty.

  As soon as the men have gone away, all the noises of the forest resume their intensity: howls, mews and various animal cries; hasty rustlings in the undergrowth; ripplings in the tall grass or foliage; the hissing of reptiles, the singing of birds; croaking and cawing and the discordant squawking of parrots saying “Polly, put the kettle on!” in their natural language.

  Birds of every color fly through the air while, on the ground, myriads of ants of all sizes and legions of insects, some as big as a man’ fist, run through the grass, bumping into one another, fighting, massacring and eating one another.

  Everything is alive, everything is animate, and everything is on the move, swarming in the immense forest. But see!—frightened parrots are fleeing from a tree whose branches seem to be moving and twisting; it is a large sucuruyu of the most venomous species, awakened by the gleam of a boot, which is descending from the tree around which it has been coiled.

  Look! The long furrow ploughed through the tall grass is the sucuruyu advancing toward the object of its desire; the polished boot fascinates and attracts it; it arrives, rears up, and sways its flat head, darting angry glances at the boot, whose cold impassivity exasperates it.

  A long hiss resounds; the sucuruyu has unwound its coils and precipitated itself upon the boot. Within a second, the boot is swallowed; the sucuruyu voluptuously closes its eyes and attempts to take in the spur. One more effort and the spur is engulfed! Suddenly, a strident noise is heard: errrrr! The snake seems to receive an electric shock; it opens its mouth wide, and its entire body becomes as rigid as an iron bar.

  The trap is sprung! By leaning on the spur, the reptile has activated a spring, which, suddenly unwinding, becomes a sort of stiff and inflexible vertebral column. The hideous reptile can no longer move; mouth agape, utterly bewildered, it awaits the hunter who will be guided to the scene of the drama by the red balloon, which is still swaying in the air.

  Another advantage of Farandoul’s method is that each boot and spring can be used repeatedly.

  There does not seem to need f
or us to say any more about such facile hunts. In a few months the expedition’s goals were met and Farandoul returned to New York where, once the assets were liquidized, each of the men on the expedition found himself in possession of a nice little fortune—much less, it must be admitted, than the one that went down with La Belle Léocadie after the fruitful expedition in Malaysia, but amounting, after all, to a sufficiently respectable number of dollars.

  We now arrive at a new phase in our hero’s life: a period of ardent agitation caused by the most violent passions.

  What do you expect? A man is never made completely of bronze; there always comes a moment in life when the most frozen of hearts warms up and comes to the boil! That moment had arrived for Farandoul. Since the cruel loss that he had suffered of the unfortunate Mysora, his heart had not beaten at all; he had delivered himself entirely to ambition. Absorbed by immense enterprises, by the care he had devoted to the organization of his armies of monkeys, and, finally, by all that the defense of his conquest, Australia, had necessitated, Farandoul had been made of bronze, stone or marble. At the end of the day, though, Farandoul was young. His heart resumed beating, and its beating had been troubling the man of action for some time.

  He had to do something about it!

  Weary of great enterprises in which his wounded heart remained solitary and sad, persuaded that, from time to time in life, some use must be made of that organ, Farandoul made a resolution to head for Mormon territory.47 Mandibul and the 15 men from La Belle Léocadie were summoned to a meeting that very evening, and Farandoul told them about his plan. Strangely enough—which proves the extent to which all these men understood, they too being weary of the solitary life—their thoughts had also turned in the direction of the great Salt Lake City.

  There was nothing but acclamation: “Hurrah for Mormonism! Let’s all be Mormons!” Mandibul even declared that he had always dreamed, for so long as he could remember, of spending happy days as a Mormon patriarch, surrounded by a family distinguished by serial numbers rather than vulgar baptismal names.

  The preparations did not take long. The idea had been welcomed by everyone with such enthusiasm that they were all ready within two hours, and the departure was immediate.

  Six days on the railroad did not cool the ardor of the neophytes. At the first station, Farandoul had sent a telegram to Brigham Young,48 the Mormon high priest, to inform him of his impending arrival. Brigham had replied, and a conversation had been struck up between the high priest and the new convert that lasted throughout the journey.

  Brigham Young, happy and flattered to have such an important recruit to his religion, put himself entirely at Saturnin’s disposal. In the final hours of the journey the telegrams multiplied.

  Have found splendid opportunity. Senator has just divorced spouses. Sixteen assorted women, will throw in 17th for free. Would you like to take advantage? Are numerous contenders but you shall have pick.

  Brigham Young

  Accepted. Thanks. Lieutenant Mandibul asks if there might be a similar opportunity for him.

  Saturnin Farandoul

  Six black women and one Chinese woman in view. Don’t speak French. Do we have a deal?

  Brigham Young

  Mandibul asks for half a dozen white women besides for pleasant chats around the hearth.

  Saturnin Farandoul

  Have found them! One asks in advance of conclusion whether Lieutenant Mandibul is blond.

  Brigham Young

  Ardent blond. Another question. Tournesol, 33 years old, volcanic temperament. Would like Mexican women.

  Saturnin Farandoul

  Mandibul marriage concluded. Job lot of Mexican women for Tournesol. Will be at the station.

  Brigham Young

  Brigham Young had arranged things well. Before his friends had even disembarked he had married them and had found them the necessary 17 apartments—that is to say, large houses for Farandoul and Mandibul and 15 cottages for the ordinary seamen.

  The announcement of the arrival of the celebrated Farandoul and his men had caused a profound emotion in the city of Saints; the Grand Council of bishops and elders had met and it had been decided that they would be given a solemn welcome.

  The station had been decked with flags and, a long time before the train was due, an immense crowd of people in their best clothes had gathered on both sides of the track. The Grand Council was there, with Brigham Young at its head; in front of the Elders a white cohort of wives attracted the tender gazes of the curious.

  Dressed in white and crowned with flowers, the new brides, suppressing the beating of their hearts, were awaiting the arrival of their husbands. They were of all colors and all nationalities. In order to delight the gazes of the newcomers, Brigham Young had wanted to bring together the most comprehensive assortment of Mormon beauties, and we can be assured that he had succeeded completely.

  Finally, the train was signaled. All hearts were beating rapidly. The repeated blasts of the whistle and the increasingly loud roar of the locomotive were suddenly drowned out by the explosion of a salvo of applause loud enough to make the great temple collapse.

  The travelers leapt down to the ground and, responding to the popular acclaim by waving their hats wildly, headed towards the group of women.

  Brigham Young advanced, shook Farandoul’s hands and delivered a welcoming speech full of the warmest cordiality, to which Farandoul replied with a few heartfelt words.

  The introductions followed. Farandoul was burning with excitement at the prospect of meeting his wives at last; Mandibul and the sailors were trying to distinguish theirs among the numerous collection assembled by Brigham Young.

  Let us say right away that everyone was satisfied with the choice, and that Brigham had no complaints to receive—except that Mandibul negotiated a minor exchange with the Breton Trabadec, a simple and gentle fellow. Trabadec had enjoyed a particularly lucky draw, Brigham Young having married him to four charming Parisian women, among whom were a petite dramatic artiste who had come to San Francisco with an opera company—but Trabadec immediately established that none of his wives spoke Low-Breton and had confided his embarrassment and desperation to his superior. The ever-benevolent Mandibul had taken the four Parisians for himself and had given the enchanted Trabadec four of his black women in exchange.

  Everything being arranged to the general satisfaction, there was nothing else to do but proceed with the festivities. After leaving the station the procession went straight to the temple, where the civil ceremonies were held. It was only necessary to read out a few quick paragraphs and everyone went on to the Great Polygamy Hotel, in the grand hall of which was a magnificent banquet with 3000 place-settings, offered by the municipality of Salt Lake City to the newcomers.

  Brigham Young the bishops and the elders honored this gigantic meal with their presence; floods of champagne were poured in honor of Farandoul. We have no intention of recounting every incident or enumerating all the toasts that were raised to Mormonism, the elders and the new acolytes, and to their lovely “fractions”—as Mandibul put it, in speaking of his wives, who were too numerous to be described as halves. We only wish to transcribe here the introduction to the speech that our noble hero made, amid a tumult of acclamation and applause, which ended in so formidable an explosion of hurrahs that several gas-lamps in the street were blown out.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Farandoul began, “It is not, believe me, without mature reflection, having meditated long and profoundly, that I have decided to come to ask the City of Saints to find a place for one more faithful follower!

  “It is a man battered by the tempest, shaken by storms, who comes here in search of a pleasant and peaceful port in which, in the calm waters of all-inclusive virtue, he may rest from the fatigue and agitation of an existence devoted heretofore to the defense of great renovating and humanitarian projects.

  “The Mormon idea is great too! To rediscover the true role of woman in Biblical tradition; to revive the family; by
the example of patriarchs to enlarge the conjugal hearth to give places there to an indeterminate number of spouses! Your prophet Brigham Young had said: ‘A man’s heart is vast; his hearth must be equally vast!’

  “Another very important reason militates in favor of polygamy. How often have we seen those sad monogamists leading a wan and near-futile existence in a continuous state of coldness and hostility with their one and only spouse? The sharp angles of their characters continually bumping into one another, the result is sulking, quarrels, disappointments of every sort for both of them—while, in bravely adopting the principles of polygamy, the wide-open hearth has resumed its attraction, by virtue of a certain equilibrium produced by the variety of characters, faults and qualities eventually compensating for one another, and forming a sum of conjugal happiness impossible of attainment in a restricted hearth!

  “Yes, polygamy alone cushions existence!

  “Thus, we renew the hearth, we elevate the man and relieve the woman—but our action does not stop there; little by little, we are changing the face of the world. In my opinion, the monogamous nations are doomed to a rapid decadence and degeneration, and the moment has come when, seeing the threat of that decadence looming, they will soon throw themselves into our arms. The role of polygamous nations will soon commence; we must be and will be the initiating nation!

  “I shall give you one single example, gentlemen, of the power of the idea of polygamy—not for your sake, strong in your conviction as you are, but for the sake of the world, which has its eyes upon us.