Lands of Red and Gold #109: To The Equator And Beyond
Lands of Red and Gold #109: To The Equator And Beyond
“Death walks beside me, and behind me, and in time it will claim me, but never will I let fear of it control me.”
- Attributed to the Hunter
* * *
9 November 1711
Mullumba [Petrie, QLD], Dominion of Harmony
Mathieu-François Clergeau, Councillor of the Orient, schooled his features to stillness. Opportunity beckoned here, but also great risk. If he succeeded, he would be the first official of the Compagnie to strike a truly profitable trade agreement on the mainland of the Third World.
Many times, the Compagnie had tried to gain trade access, at first by word, and then sometimes by the sword. All had failed. The avaricious Dutch and putrid English held the valuable portions of Aururia in their grasp: gold, kunduri, and most of the spices. The few portions of Aururia where the Compagnie had gained a foothold were exactly those which appealed least to the Dutch and English. On Aotearoa, they had found a wealth of gold for the claiming, but not here on the mainland.
A few opportunities remained. Some parts of the Spice Lands here were still ruled by the natives. Some of those sold some of their spices to the Compagnie, but only a small portion. Truly meaningful control of trade with the holdouts – the Patjimunra and the Kiyungu – had eluded the Compagnie’s grasp. Small consolation that it had eluded the Dutch and English, too.
Now, though, Clergeau had his opportunity. The Kiyungu had fought off the Compagnie’s expensive gamble to conquer them. No-one had been willing to waste blood and treasure on a second attempt.
No-one Christian, that is.
Some savage warlord – whom even these heathens considered a savage, that is – had emerged from the vast undiscovered country of the interior. Truly, so little was known of the heart of this land. The wealth had been on the coast, either found there or brought there by the natives for trading. Few Christians had ventured further in, save some to the Five Rivers, and even that was only a small part of Aururia. Much of that heart was desert – the dead heart, he had heard the natives call it – but evidently not all of it was so.
The Kiyungu had been conquered in a lightning crusade. This warlord proclaimed some distinction in faith, though from what Clergeau had been able to fathom, there was no meaningful difference between his sect and the heathen Plirite faith which the Kiyungu followed. Whether the differences were real mattered little, though. What mattered was the change in government. This warlord might be more amenable to trade with the Compagnie.
The men who escorted him were Kiyungu, from what Clergau could judge of their speech. Spear and shield-carrying soldiers, of no particular note. When he reached the great doors to the royal palace of Mullumba, he found someone of far greater import.
This man dressed nothing like a Kiyungu. He stood tall, with a strange two-part hat of wood above and woven fibre below. His hair was long, bound into a bag behind his neck, with feathers sticking from it. He wore a cloak around his shoulders, with a smaller piece of fabric semi-detached as it hung down his chest, not quite concealing the two pistols strapped there. He wore a short tunic that left half of his legs uncovered, and comfortable-looking fur boots. Most importantly, he had the bearing of a man of aristocratic blood.
“I am Kyulibah,” the aristocrat said, in passable Nuttana, the common language of traders in the Third World. “Warego [hero] and servant of the Hunter. You are the emissary of the Drendj association?”
“I am Mathieu-François Clergeau, Councillor of the Orient, on behalf of the Compagnie d’Orient, here to speak to Tjuwagga.”
Kyulibah gestured to the pistol and knife at Clergeau’s waist. “No man steps armed into the Hunter’s presence, save with his explicit blessing.”
“And my safety?” Clergeau said. He had expected this, but wanted to judge how wary these heathen Yalatji were.
“You guarantee your safety with your own honour,” the aristocrat said, then nodded when Clergeau handed the weapons to one of the accompanying Kiyungu.
Kyulibah turned, opened the doors, and walked in. Clergeau followed; the soldiers did not.
Inside, two more guards waited, dressed in similar style to the aristocrat, though less elaborately. Clergeau gave them little heed. His gaze focused on the fifth man, the one seated, the one who wore a simple tunic and cloak with no ornamentation, and whose hair hung loose rather than bagged.
Without being prompted, Clergeau went down and one knee and bowed his head. He had found that a useful generic gesture of respect, both here and in Aotearoa, and it saved learning the myriad customs of acknowledgement in the Third World.
Kyulibah announced Clergeau, making a decent attempt to pronounce his name and title, and then stepped to one side.
The seated man said, “Councillor of the Orient? What rank does that signify amongst your people?”
“Six men who oversee all French trade with the countries of the east. I am the most senior of the six.”
The man grinned. “One who has authority to bargain, then.”
“Indeed. Any agreements I make, the Compagnie d’Orient will honour.”
“Then you may speak with me. I am Tjuwagga – or Hunter, in the traders’ tongue. I have brought these lands of the League into my dominions, into harmony. What business do you wish to conduct with my lands?”
“Many things, in time, but foremost the spices found in these lands.”
“In exchange for weapons and armour, no doubt,” the Hunter said.
“You want to sell, we want to buy,” Clergeau ventured, with a smile on his face.
You need to buy; I want to sell,” the Hunter said calmly. “Your association needs to buy these spices more than I need to sell them. There are other buyers, and we already have those who can sell us arms.” He gestured to the two pistols on Kyulibah’s chest.
He continued, “I have heard what happened when you tried to secure deals from the spice lands. Naught worth mentioning, save for those spices so common – peppers – that anyone could buy them. That is why your friends sought to conquer the Kiyungu, twenty years gone. Because you could not obtain spices by bargain, you sought to obtain them by force.”
The Hunter’s grin returned. “Your force failed. Mine succeeded. Now you have only bargain, not force.”
“What terms do you wish for spices, then?”
“Good terms, of course,” the Hunter said, still grinning.
Clergeau laughed; he could not help himself.
The Hunter said, “I want more weapons and powder, this is true. And more good armour. But I do not need them badly. My prowess has already conquered the League, and I have a sufficiency of arms for more campaigns yet. More, the Nedlandj or the Inglidj would dearly love to sell me weapons for spices. If only to keep out the other, and you Drendj.”
“Neither of those is to be trusted,” Clergeau said.
“And you are?”
“The Nedlandj, for instance, sacked the White City when the Emperor under their protection dared to disagree with them.”
“So I have heard,” the Hunter said. “A tale which grows worse with each retelling, no doubt. I do not fear the Nedlandj and their weapons. They are limited to what they can bring by ship. A fact your Māori allies learned when they tried to conquer these Kiyungu. Whereas I can move whole nations by horse.”
“So what else do you wish then, besides good terms in trade?”
“A good question.” The Hunter’s ever-infectious grin returned. “I want more than a trade agreement. I want recognition. What is the Nuttana phrase? Ah, yes. Sphere of influence. The Nuttana have claimed the League, the northern Kiyungu, and a few other lands like Ngutti [Yamba] as their sphere of influence.”
“The Nuttana can claim what they wish. It does not make it so.”
“Your association recognises those claims, in fact if not in name. What I wish is stronger. Your association must publicly, formally recognise all of these Nuttana lands – and the Nuttana themselves – as my sphere of influence. Whether I have conquered them directly, whether they have paid tribute, or whether they still await my rule, they are my sphere of influence. You will not interfere. You will buy nothing from them, sell nothing to them, except with my permission, and on terms we agree between us, now or later.”
“And the other Christian – Raw Men, you would say – trading associations? What of them?”
“How I deal with them is my concern,” the Hunter said. “So long as you recognise my rule, and do not make any common cause with them against me, then we can trade, for both our gain.”
“Then let us negotiate the trade terms,” Clergeau said, and this time he allowed himself to grin back.
* * *
From Bareena Uranj, a Tjarrling religious text which is typically though inaccurately rendered into English as the Orange Bible:
Chapter 18:
1. And so it happened that all the lands of the League submitted to the true path, save for besieged Kabigara [Noosa Heads] in the north.
2. Tjuwagga gathered his Warego [heroes/visionaries] and Wirrulee [priests/warriors] together at Cankoona [Toowoomba], and declared that the first time of Yaluma [struggle/crusade] had been fulfilled.
3. The Warego and Wirrulee held council together about where next to send the Men of the North [Yalatji], Men of the South [Butjupa] and their new-found comrades in truth [1].
4. Jowarra said, “North we can go, to the League’s northern allies, or south along the mountains or along the coast, to peoples who know not the Seven-fold Path.”
5. The Warego and Wirrulee argued, and the whole of the council was divided into three parts.
6. Tjuwagga said, “High lands we know, and gems we know. These high lands to the south are of fine pasture, if not the great bounty of the Neeburra [2]. They are fit to be ridden by the finest of men. It is right that they be the next brought to the true path.”
7. Jowarra said, “What of Kabigara and their kin?”
8. Tjuwagga said, “They will come to my rule, in time. Jowarra, I leave their conquest to you, and to Minjaree, who is already there.”
9. Tjuwagga said, “Bring Kabigara to submission, and from there proceed north in conquest as seems best to you.”
10. Tjuwagga said, “But for me and my other Warego, we will ride into the highlands.”
* * *
From: The Chronicle of Tjuwagga the Unbeliever (Merringford translation).
With the capitulation of Woginee [Tweed Heads], the League was no more, we knew. Kabigara stood alone, but it could not be called part of any League.
Tjuwagga summoned all of his senior commanders to Cankoona, save Minjaree who was still seeking to break into Kabigara, to discuss where to conquer next. Everyone knew that Tjuwagga wanted to conquer, above all else. For all of his talk of bringing harmony through ruling over unbelievers, it was in battle that he thrived, in battle without which he could never enjoy life.
Tjuwagga asked his commanders for their views on where he should conquer next. He let us hostages watch; he never seemed to care what we heard, only what we did.
Jowarra opened the discussion, as he usually did. He named the obvious options: the northern brethren of the League, south along the ocean’s shore, or into the Tin Lands of the mountains. His commanders argued interminably about the best choice, and as was his wont, Tjuwagga let them debate without contradiction from him. Only once they appeared to have chosen a course – the firmest voices favoured Jowarra’s demand for a northern push – did Tjuwagga speak.
Tjuwagga said, “The remaining Kiyungu are misguided, and defiant, but will be brought to the proper path in due course. No urgency in that task. Other foes remain to the south. They will have been warned by our success over the League. They can never defeat us, this is so, but if we give them more time to prepare, they can cost us more in blood and horse to defeat them.”
Jowarra said, “Shall the northerners be left free to cause trouble?”
“No. Take your warband and join the siege of Kabigara. Once it is fallen and secure, you can push to the north as you deem achievable.” The Hunter gave his familiar grin, the one all men who knew him would remember to the end of their days. “For the other warbands and I, we will ride south, to conquer the Tin Lands, as one step along the path to the greater endeavour, the defeat of the lords foul who rule the Five Rivers.”
* * *
Taken from: The True History of the Yalatji: Translation and Commentary, Heron Publishing, 2nd edition.
English translation by IM Donne.
(From Book 5)
The declaration of Yaluma had been ended, for the current time, and the Hunter dwelt in Mullumba for the moment as he brought order to the lands of the former League. While he resided there, three of his greatest Warego – Yongalla, Minjaree, and Kyulibah – came to take counsel with him over where next to send the might of the Yalatji.
Minjaree declared that the Warego should ride north, to join Jowarra who was then besieging Kabigara, to end the last holdout of the League. From there, he said, they could ride into city after city, until all of the Kiyungu who had defied the Yaluma had been conquered, and after that, then the lands of the Six Lords [Nuttana] could be subdued.
Yongalla counselled that the Riders should be sent south, on the sunrise side of the mountains, and defeat the petty kings and city-states of the Spice Coast. This way, he said, there would be many small enemies who could be defeated one by one, and brought to the true path. If the Riders pressed far enough, he advised, the divided remnants of once-mighty Daluming [Coffs Harbour and environs] could be conquered.
Kyulibah stated that the best course was to send the Riders back across the mountains, then south, to the Southern Gemlands [New England tablelands]. With that, he stated, the Riders knowledge of hill fighting could be put to best use in a land that would offer more wealth than the scattered peoples of the Spice Coast.
The Hunter said, “In my new Dominion, I have brought many converts to the true path and to join our armies. I must trust them to fight for me, but not trust too far, yet. Many of the Kiyungu have friends and kin who have migrated north, and they may have considered such a migration themselves. Let them have more time to learn to follow a true Warego and grow in faith before they are sent to fight their brothers in speech.
“Minjaree, you will ride north with your warband and the two Goanna battalions. (Commentator’s note: The Goanna battalions were composite units of infantry put together from those non-Yalatji and non-Butjupa peoples who had already been recruited to the Hunter’s cause. They did not, at this time, include Kiyungu.) You can aid Jowarra and conquer Kabigara, then keep conquering north. For the rest, we will ride to the south, to bring the high lands into harmony.”
* * *
Ashkettle says, “With the League fallen, why did the Hunter turn south? Why did he not press north against the Kiyungu immediately, with all of his strength? That seems to be something that no historians could agree on.”
Clements laughs. “How can they, when three great books contradict each other on almost every point, and the fourth gives no reason at all?”
“Do you remember the reason?”
“But of course. I was at Cankoona when the council met. So many reasons, the histories offer, and all wrong. The truth was much simpler. Several recruits had come from the highlands lately – following in the path I set, a couple of years before, when I moved from the highlands to the Neeburra – and they carried word that a fresh war had broken out amongst the highland confederations. So the Hunter decided to attack immediately, to take proper advantage of the opportunities offered by divided foes.”
* * *
10 November 1711
Tukka Nyukka [Maryborough] (independent Kiyungu city-state)
A spring day in Kogung’s hosting-house [inn/pub]; decently warm, blessedly free from rain. A pleasant day, yet an unpleasant time.
Mulganba, trading-captain of the Mudontji bloodline, had found little to profit him in his voyage south to Tukka Nyukka. The locals were too busy panicking over the possibility of an attack by this warlord Seeker or Hunter or whatever he called himself. So they hoarded their wealth rather than trading freely. If he was unable to find anything of value soon, he might have to end up trading sugar for dried fish.
His hopes revived when he overheard a conversation between several wealthy locals – exactly the kind of men whom he was trying to trade with – bemoaning the threat of the Seeker. Conversations about the Seeker were everywhere in this town, but his interest grew when he heard them start to discuss fleeing.
Without waiting to be invited, he sat down at their table and said, “So determined to leave your home city?”
Lumbarra, a warehouse owner whom Mulganba had traded with before, gave him an unfriendly stare. He had expected nothing less for the intrusion, but they could not ignore his words. Eventually Lumbarra said, “Your forefathers did the same, and witness the fortune it brought you.”
Mulganba did not reply immediately; Lumbarra’s response had been exactly what he wanted, and best to let the other men think about it for a moment longer.
Nhumee Djara, a prominent scribe who had documented several of Mulganba’s trade agreements, said, “But where could we flee? Even the Nuttana are not far enough away; I fear that they will march up the coast taking city after city.”
“You give these Horse-Men too much credit,” said Mulganba. Breaking the League had been easy because they had not known how to fight Horse-Men. The first battle had been the decisive one, but the struggle put up since showed that their cavalry could be challenged by men who knew what they were doing. “They will not find it so easy to march north.”
Lumbarra said, “What is to stop them? Oh, they will not be at the gates of Wujal next year. But no-one dares face them in battle, and they will not cease conquering until they are firmly defeated.”
Gumboo, one of the most useful spice brokers to deal with, said, “If we must flee, it should be somewhere that their horses cannot ride after us.”
Mulganba raised an eyebrow. This conversation was leading exactly where he had hoped. “Somewhere across the waves, perhaps?”
Lumbarra laughed, with a hint of desperation behind it. “What island is there worth having? If it is already full of men, then we would need to fight them; battle here would be preferable to battle far away. And no island would be safe from bloodthirsty Māori coming raiding.”
“Unless it is full of malaria, where even the Māori dare not tread,” Gumboo said.
“Where does that leave?” Lumbarra asked, resignation in his tone.
“Nowhere,” Nhumee declared.
Mulganba offered silent thanks to the Green Lady. Never mind selling sugar; he could extract much more wealth from these desperate Kiyungu by negotiating a deal to take them to a place of security. He said, “If you are determined to flee, I know a place.”
Sure enough, he had their interest; their keen looks demonstrated that. “Sail as far as the Nuttana have, and you learn about many lands. This world is a far larger place than you might know.”
“I know the size of the globe. I have seen world maps,” Nhumee said.
“Raw Men maps,” Mulganba said. “With their poor, heavy ships where they can claim to chart a coastline and miss all of the good harbours. The Raw Men are cunning artificers in so many ways, but their mapmaking and shipbuilding leaves much to be desired.”
“You mean you know a land which the Raw Men do not?” Lumbarra asked.
“A land which to the Raw Men is naught but a name and a squiggle on a map. The Pannidj [Spanish] claim it, but their pitiful charts do not even show its greatest harbour, one of the most superb anchorages in the world.” Mulganba wondered sometimes why the Pannidj even bothered to explore at all, since they missed so much of the coast.
“What is this land called?” Gumboo said.
Mulganba knew better than to answer that question directly yet. Interest must be built first. “It is a land where the Māori could never reach, so far across the globe. It has a few natives there, but they are like the wild men [hunter-gatherers] which your forefathers displaced when they moved north from the Coral Coast; few, rudely-armed, divided, and easily bargained with or pushed aside if needed. It is a land well-suited to decent crops – red yams and wealth-trees [wattles] would grow in abundance, although you would need irrigation for sweet potato. A land with fine lumber, game and fish to hunt until the crops can be established.”
“What is this land?” Lumbarra said.
“California, the Pannidj call it.”
“California!” Nhumee half-snorted the name. “You could not have named a more remote place.”
“I know of some further,” Mulganba said evenly. “But its distance is what makes it ideal. A fine, secluded harbour, fertile land, but with deserts which have stopped the Pannidj coming anywhere near the land. And far it may be, but it is easy to sail. Nuttana ships have explored the land; my uncle was among them. Reaching California is a long voyage, but not a dangerous one. We can sail north to Okinawa, then sail east with winds and currents behind us. It is easily done; it has been easily done. And at the other end, safety from the Seeker, for all time.”
Not to mention great wealth for the captains who accepted payment for the voyage, of course. California was decent land, from all Mulganba had heard, but its greatest attraction was that its remoteness would let he and his kin charge great fees for the voyage. With wealthy Kiyungu desperate to flee, what could be better?
“Safety from the Seeker may come at the price of danger from the Pannidj,” Lumbarra said.
“At a place in which they do not even know exists, even if they claim it?” Mulganba raised an eyebrow. “If permission is needed from the Pannidj, tell them we seek simply to set up a victualling station. They do not need to know how many people are there.” Wrangling permission from the Spanish could, in fact, take some negotiation, but Mulganba did not expect it to be a problem. The wealth being extracted from the Kiyungu for such an exodus would pay for any number of bribes to key Pannidj officials.
“This is not something which could be done overnight,” Nhumee said. “Many ships, many men, many months. Would we have enough time?”
“The Seeker is still to the south, and Kabigara still stands,” Mulganba said. “Dallying should not be encouraged, but time there is.” Those cities to the south held promise, too. The Seeker ruled the League, but perhaps men there would be dissatisfied with his rule. No change of ruler could stop traders coming back and forth, and where goods moved, so could men. Perhaps some of the conquered League-men would want to join this exodus. For the right price.
More, who could say what other resources this land called California held, once explored properly? Perhaps it would grow to be a useful trading place in its own right, just not a way to take the wealth of those desperate enough to be shipped there.
Gumboo said, “To California, then.” He raised his mug.
Lumbarra said, “No, to Kogung’s hosting-house, which brought us together, and whose children in spirit we will be, if we undertake this journey.”
* * *
From: “The World Historical Dictionary”
California Exodus
Also called California Migration or Wyrallah. The migration of Kiyungu and Nuttana from north-eastern Aururia to California, principally between 1712-1718. Their descendants form the Kogung (q.v.) of modern California. Sometimes considered part of the Nangu Diaspora (q.v.).
* * *
4 February 1733
Unknown California
“Come and see!” the scout announced.
Vicente Rodriguez Fidalgo, commander of His Catholic Majesty Carlos III’s first proper exploration to Upper California, did not hurry. Partly that was out of a sense of dignity; a commander maintained his authority in the field by being seen as composed and self-assured, not running around wildly. Mostly, though, it was from a sense of frustration.
Rumours of what could be found in Upper California had percolated through New Spain for several years. Many years before, the pagan Nuttana had won permission to set up a victualling station in California. He had never heard the official reason, but suspected that a certain favour in manner of Third World spices and jeeree had ensured that permission; after all, such goods were valuable in both the Orient and Europe.
Rumours, though, said that the Nuttana outpost had gone far beyond that of a mere victualling station. No Spanish ship had ever found exactly which harbour the Nuttana used, but then, that was understandable. The winds and currents off California pushed near-continuously to the south; sailing north to explore, or even chart the coast, was damned near impossible. A lesson which he had been reminded of in his own expedition here; it had been meant to be a joint search by land and sea, but the ships had been forced to turn back at Monterey after endlessly contrary winds.
Or maybe some ships did discover their base, but were bribed into silence. The thought had crossed his mind, amidst the many other frustrations of the exploration north. Ships had been trapped or failed to arrive in the first place, illness and scurvy plagued the expedition, as did travel across deserts which lacked water or decent food, and endless grumblings amongst the men. Nowadays, even minor matters seemed frustrating; their passage north had been blocked by the first glimpses of the arm of some bay which might – or might not – have been Port San Francisco which other Spaniards had reported [3] decades earlier. Then hills had stopped them from getting a proper sight of the bay.
Now, his scouts had returned from the ridge, and from the sounds of it, what they had discovered was something special. Or fearsome, perhaps.
In his own calculated time, Fidalgo made his way to the top of the ridge. There, he had to stop himself gasping. Composure, he reminded himself. A commander needs composure.
A great bay opened before them, sweeping wide to south and east and north. The far shore was visible, but the bay was clearly several miles wide. Its outlet must lie beyond further hills to the north [4]. But it was the lowlands which drew his attention. Here and on the far side of the bay, trees had been planted in endless neat rows. Trees which presented contrasting colours of bright golden flowers and dark green leaves. Much of the near shore, and parts of the far shore, were swathed in the golden hues.
When he inspected more closely, Fidalgo saw a decent-sized town on the near shore, and what looked like other towns on the farther shore, though those were smaller. Whoever lived here – presumably the Nuttana – had grown well-established.
“Those are cornnarts [wattles], aren’t they?” Fidalgo asked. He knew of no other cultivated trees which produced such colours.
The scout nodded.
So, this was the Nuttana colony, then. None of the natives here grew cornnarts. A large, well-settled colony indeed. What would the Governor of New Spain say when he heard of this outpost? Would he want to have it conquered? Worse, given the troubles of bringing men by land or sea, could it be conquered?
* * *
[1] i.e. those Kiyungu (and a few others) who have converted to Tjarrlinghi and now follow the Hunter’s cause.
[2] This refers to an area which the Aururians variously call the northern highlands or the southern gemlands, and which historically is called the New England tablelands. It is an area of highlands that has long been a source of tin, and anciently also of gold and gems, although most of the gold and gem mines have been exhausted. There is still some small-scale sapphire production.
[3] What the Spanish in this era thought of as San Francisco Bay was in fact the outer part of the bay (including historical Drake’s Bay), rather than the modern historical conception of San Francisco Bay as the harbour inside the Golden Gate. Historically, no Europeans discovered [5] San Francisco Bay until Gaspar de Portolá’s expedition reached it by land in 1769.
[4] Fidalgo’s expedition has followed a generally similar path to that which historically followed by Portolá’s expedition in 1769. They were both marching roughly along the coast, and were turned west by the first glimpse of San Francisco Bay. They have climbed the same ridge (historically called Sweeney Ridge), though in different locations, and gained the first full sight of San Francisco Bay.
[5] Obviously, San Francisco Bay had been discovered on more or less a daily basis for over ten thousand years by the people who already lived there.
* * *
Thoughts?
P.S. For those who are curious, this Kogung migration to California has been foreshadowed (in very general terms) in various special posts over the years. In the very first Christmas special (here), there was discussion of a “California Migration” which involved significant population movements, and an anatomically improbable suggestion involving a redwood which suggested that there were Plirites familiar with redwoods.
There were also various references to the Kogung. A later Christmas special named them as among Plirite groups which still celebrate Christmas as a secular holiday (here). In post #75, the Kogung were named amongst the groups who were sometimes (controversially) described as part of the Nangu Diaspora. One of the Halloween specials also featured a Kogung couple, in a place in which they can look west and see the sun setting over the Pacific, while also celebrating the Day of the Dead in a Spanish-influenced fashion (here). And in the recent post #107, Kogung's was named as the inn where the first people met when they decided to undertake a great migration.
P.P.S. As has been mentioned in the discussion posts, LoRaG is now going to slow down for a while as I work on some other projects, starting with the planned version of habitable Venus. I will post a link to that project (in the ASB forum) once it’s up and running.
“Death walks beside me, and behind me, and in time it will claim me, but never will I let fear of it control me.”
- Attributed to the Hunter
* * *
9 November 1711
Mullumba [Petrie, QLD], Dominion of Harmony
Mathieu-François Clergeau, Councillor of the Orient, schooled his features to stillness. Opportunity beckoned here, but also great risk. If he succeeded, he would be the first official of the Compagnie to strike a truly profitable trade agreement on the mainland of the Third World.
Many times, the Compagnie had tried to gain trade access, at first by word, and then sometimes by the sword. All had failed. The avaricious Dutch and putrid English held the valuable portions of Aururia in their grasp: gold, kunduri, and most of the spices. The few portions of Aururia where the Compagnie had gained a foothold were exactly those which appealed least to the Dutch and English. On Aotearoa, they had found a wealth of gold for the claiming, but not here on the mainland.
A few opportunities remained. Some parts of the Spice Lands here were still ruled by the natives. Some of those sold some of their spices to the Compagnie, but only a small portion. Truly meaningful control of trade with the holdouts – the Patjimunra and the Kiyungu – had eluded the Compagnie’s grasp. Small consolation that it had eluded the Dutch and English, too.
Now, though, Clergeau had his opportunity. The Kiyungu had fought off the Compagnie’s expensive gamble to conquer them. No-one had been willing to waste blood and treasure on a second attempt.
No-one Christian, that is.
Some savage warlord – whom even these heathens considered a savage, that is – had emerged from the vast undiscovered country of the interior. Truly, so little was known of the heart of this land. The wealth had been on the coast, either found there or brought there by the natives for trading. Few Christians had ventured further in, save some to the Five Rivers, and even that was only a small part of Aururia. Much of that heart was desert – the dead heart, he had heard the natives call it – but evidently not all of it was so.
The Kiyungu had been conquered in a lightning crusade. This warlord proclaimed some distinction in faith, though from what Clergeau had been able to fathom, there was no meaningful difference between his sect and the heathen Plirite faith which the Kiyungu followed. Whether the differences were real mattered little, though. What mattered was the change in government. This warlord might be more amenable to trade with the Compagnie.
The men who escorted him were Kiyungu, from what Clergau could judge of their speech. Spear and shield-carrying soldiers, of no particular note. When he reached the great doors to the royal palace of Mullumba, he found someone of far greater import.
This man dressed nothing like a Kiyungu. He stood tall, with a strange two-part hat of wood above and woven fibre below. His hair was long, bound into a bag behind his neck, with feathers sticking from it. He wore a cloak around his shoulders, with a smaller piece of fabric semi-detached as it hung down his chest, not quite concealing the two pistols strapped there. He wore a short tunic that left half of his legs uncovered, and comfortable-looking fur boots. Most importantly, he had the bearing of a man of aristocratic blood.
“I am Kyulibah,” the aristocrat said, in passable Nuttana, the common language of traders in the Third World. “Warego [hero] and servant of the Hunter. You are the emissary of the Drendj association?”
“I am Mathieu-François Clergeau, Councillor of the Orient, on behalf of the Compagnie d’Orient, here to speak to Tjuwagga.”
Kyulibah gestured to the pistol and knife at Clergeau’s waist. “No man steps armed into the Hunter’s presence, save with his explicit blessing.”
“And my safety?” Clergeau said. He had expected this, but wanted to judge how wary these heathen Yalatji were.
“You guarantee your safety with your own honour,” the aristocrat said, then nodded when Clergeau handed the weapons to one of the accompanying Kiyungu.
Kyulibah turned, opened the doors, and walked in. Clergeau followed; the soldiers did not.
Inside, two more guards waited, dressed in similar style to the aristocrat, though less elaborately. Clergeau gave them little heed. His gaze focused on the fifth man, the one seated, the one who wore a simple tunic and cloak with no ornamentation, and whose hair hung loose rather than bagged.
Without being prompted, Clergeau went down and one knee and bowed his head. He had found that a useful generic gesture of respect, both here and in Aotearoa, and it saved learning the myriad customs of acknowledgement in the Third World.
Kyulibah announced Clergeau, making a decent attempt to pronounce his name and title, and then stepped to one side.
The seated man said, “Councillor of the Orient? What rank does that signify amongst your people?”
“Six men who oversee all French trade with the countries of the east. I am the most senior of the six.”
The man grinned. “One who has authority to bargain, then.”
“Indeed. Any agreements I make, the Compagnie d’Orient will honour.”
“Then you may speak with me. I am Tjuwagga – or Hunter, in the traders’ tongue. I have brought these lands of the League into my dominions, into harmony. What business do you wish to conduct with my lands?”
“Many things, in time, but foremost the spices found in these lands.”
“In exchange for weapons and armour, no doubt,” the Hunter said.
“You want to sell, we want to buy,” Clergeau ventured, with a smile on his face.
You need to buy; I want to sell,” the Hunter said calmly. “Your association needs to buy these spices more than I need to sell them. There are other buyers, and we already have those who can sell us arms.” He gestured to the two pistols on Kyulibah’s chest.
He continued, “I have heard what happened when you tried to secure deals from the spice lands. Naught worth mentioning, save for those spices so common – peppers – that anyone could buy them. That is why your friends sought to conquer the Kiyungu, twenty years gone. Because you could not obtain spices by bargain, you sought to obtain them by force.”
The Hunter’s grin returned. “Your force failed. Mine succeeded. Now you have only bargain, not force.”
“What terms do you wish for spices, then?”
“Good terms, of course,” the Hunter said, still grinning.
Clergeau laughed; he could not help himself.
The Hunter said, “I want more weapons and powder, this is true. And more good armour. But I do not need them badly. My prowess has already conquered the League, and I have a sufficiency of arms for more campaigns yet. More, the Nedlandj or the Inglidj would dearly love to sell me weapons for spices. If only to keep out the other, and you Drendj.”
“Neither of those is to be trusted,” Clergeau said.
“And you are?”
“The Nedlandj, for instance, sacked the White City when the Emperor under their protection dared to disagree with them.”
“So I have heard,” the Hunter said. “A tale which grows worse with each retelling, no doubt. I do not fear the Nedlandj and their weapons. They are limited to what they can bring by ship. A fact your Māori allies learned when they tried to conquer these Kiyungu. Whereas I can move whole nations by horse.”
“So what else do you wish then, besides good terms in trade?”
“A good question.” The Hunter’s ever-infectious grin returned. “I want more than a trade agreement. I want recognition. What is the Nuttana phrase? Ah, yes. Sphere of influence. The Nuttana have claimed the League, the northern Kiyungu, and a few other lands like Ngutti [Yamba] as their sphere of influence.”
“The Nuttana can claim what they wish. It does not make it so.”
“Your association recognises those claims, in fact if not in name. What I wish is stronger. Your association must publicly, formally recognise all of these Nuttana lands – and the Nuttana themselves – as my sphere of influence. Whether I have conquered them directly, whether they have paid tribute, or whether they still await my rule, they are my sphere of influence. You will not interfere. You will buy nothing from them, sell nothing to them, except with my permission, and on terms we agree between us, now or later.”
“And the other Christian – Raw Men, you would say – trading associations? What of them?”
“How I deal with them is my concern,” the Hunter said. “So long as you recognise my rule, and do not make any common cause with them against me, then we can trade, for both our gain.”
“Then let us negotiate the trade terms,” Clergeau said, and this time he allowed himself to grin back.
* * *
From Bareena Uranj, a Tjarrling religious text which is typically though inaccurately rendered into English as the Orange Bible:
Chapter 18:
1. And so it happened that all the lands of the League submitted to the true path, save for besieged Kabigara [Noosa Heads] in the north.
2. Tjuwagga gathered his Warego [heroes/visionaries] and Wirrulee [priests/warriors] together at Cankoona [Toowoomba], and declared that the first time of Yaluma [struggle/crusade] had been fulfilled.
3. The Warego and Wirrulee held council together about where next to send the Men of the North [Yalatji], Men of the South [Butjupa] and their new-found comrades in truth [1].
4. Jowarra said, “North we can go, to the League’s northern allies, or south along the mountains or along the coast, to peoples who know not the Seven-fold Path.”
5. The Warego and Wirrulee argued, and the whole of the council was divided into three parts.
6. Tjuwagga said, “High lands we know, and gems we know. These high lands to the south are of fine pasture, if not the great bounty of the Neeburra [2]. They are fit to be ridden by the finest of men. It is right that they be the next brought to the true path.”
7. Jowarra said, “What of Kabigara and their kin?”
8. Tjuwagga said, “They will come to my rule, in time. Jowarra, I leave their conquest to you, and to Minjaree, who is already there.”
9. Tjuwagga said, “Bring Kabigara to submission, and from there proceed north in conquest as seems best to you.”
10. Tjuwagga said, “But for me and my other Warego, we will ride into the highlands.”
* * *
From: The Chronicle of Tjuwagga the Unbeliever (Merringford translation).
With the capitulation of Woginee [Tweed Heads], the League was no more, we knew. Kabigara stood alone, but it could not be called part of any League.
Tjuwagga summoned all of his senior commanders to Cankoona, save Minjaree who was still seeking to break into Kabigara, to discuss where to conquer next. Everyone knew that Tjuwagga wanted to conquer, above all else. For all of his talk of bringing harmony through ruling over unbelievers, it was in battle that he thrived, in battle without which he could never enjoy life.
Tjuwagga asked his commanders for their views on where he should conquer next. He let us hostages watch; he never seemed to care what we heard, only what we did.
Jowarra opened the discussion, as he usually did. He named the obvious options: the northern brethren of the League, south along the ocean’s shore, or into the Tin Lands of the mountains. His commanders argued interminably about the best choice, and as was his wont, Tjuwagga let them debate without contradiction from him. Only once they appeared to have chosen a course – the firmest voices favoured Jowarra’s demand for a northern push – did Tjuwagga speak.
Tjuwagga said, “The remaining Kiyungu are misguided, and defiant, but will be brought to the proper path in due course. No urgency in that task. Other foes remain to the south. They will have been warned by our success over the League. They can never defeat us, this is so, but if we give them more time to prepare, they can cost us more in blood and horse to defeat them.”
Jowarra said, “Shall the northerners be left free to cause trouble?”
“No. Take your warband and join the siege of Kabigara. Once it is fallen and secure, you can push to the north as you deem achievable.” The Hunter gave his familiar grin, the one all men who knew him would remember to the end of their days. “For the other warbands and I, we will ride south, to conquer the Tin Lands, as one step along the path to the greater endeavour, the defeat of the lords foul who rule the Five Rivers.”
* * *
Taken from: The True History of the Yalatji: Translation and Commentary, Heron Publishing, 2nd edition.
English translation by IM Donne.
(From Book 5)
The declaration of Yaluma had been ended, for the current time, and the Hunter dwelt in Mullumba for the moment as he brought order to the lands of the former League. While he resided there, three of his greatest Warego – Yongalla, Minjaree, and Kyulibah – came to take counsel with him over where next to send the might of the Yalatji.
Minjaree declared that the Warego should ride north, to join Jowarra who was then besieging Kabigara, to end the last holdout of the League. From there, he said, they could ride into city after city, until all of the Kiyungu who had defied the Yaluma had been conquered, and after that, then the lands of the Six Lords [Nuttana] could be subdued.
Yongalla counselled that the Riders should be sent south, on the sunrise side of the mountains, and defeat the petty kings and city-states of the Spice Coast. This way, he said, there would be many small enemies who could be defeated one by one, and brought to the true path. If the Riders pressed far enough, he advised, the divided remnants of once-mighty Daluming [Coffs Harbour and environs] could be conquered.
Kyulibah stated that the best course was to send the Riders back across the mountains, then south, to the Southern Gemlands [New England tablelands]. With that, he stated, the Riders knowledge of hill fighting could be put to best use in a land that would offer more wealth than the scattered peoples of the Spice Coast.
The Hunter said, “In my new Dominion, I have brought many converts to the true path and to join our armies. I must trust them to fight for me, but not trust too far, yet. Many of the Kiyungu have friends and kin who have migrated north, and they may have considered such a migration themselves. Let them have more time to learn to follow a true Warego and grow in faith before they are sent to fight their brothers in speech.
“Minjaree, you will ride north with your warband and the two Goanna battalions. (Commentator’s note: The Goanna battalions were composite units of infantry put together from those non-Yalatji and non-Butjupa peoples who had already been recruited to the Hunter’s cause. They did not, at this time, include Kiyungu.) You can aid Jowarra and conquer Kabigara, then keep conquering north. For the rest, we will ride to the south, to bring the high lands into harmony.”
* * *
Ashkettle says, “With the League fallen, why did the Hunter turn south? Why did he not press north against the Kiyungu immediately, with all of his strength? That seems to be something that no historians could agree on.”
Clements laughs. “How can they, when three great books contradict each other on almost every point, and the fourth gives no reason at all?”
“Do you remember the reason?”
“But of course. I was at Cankoona when the council met. So many reasons, the histories offer, and all wrong. The truth was much simpler. Several recruits had come from the highlands lately – following in the path I set, a couple of years before, when I moved from the highlands to the Neeburra – and they carried word that a fresh war had broken out amongst the highland confederations. So the Hunter decided to attack immediately, to take proper advantage of the opportunities offered by divided foes.”
* * *
10 November 1711
Tukka Nyukka [Maryborough] (independent Kiyungu city-state)
A spring day in Kogung’s hosting-house [inn/pub]; decently warm, blessedly free from rain. A pleasant day, yet an unpleasant time.
Mulganba, trading-captain of the Mudontji bloodline, had found little to profit him in his voyage south to Tukka Nyukka. The locals were too busy panicking over the possibility of an attack by this warlord Seeker or Hunter or whatever he called himself. So they hoarded their wealth rather than trading freely. If he was unable to find anything of value soon, he might have to end up trading sugar for dried fish.
His hopes revived when he overheard a conversation between several wealthy locals – exactly the kind of men whom he was trying to trade with – bemoaning the threat of the Seeker. Conversations about the Seeker were everywhere in this town, but his interest grew when he heard them start to discuss fleeing.
Without waiting to be invited, he sat down at their table and said, “So determined to leave your home city?”
Lumbarra, a warehouse owner whom Mulganba had traded with before, gave him an unfriendly stare. He had expected nothing less for the intrusion, but they could not ignore his words. Eventually Lumbarra said, “Your forefathers did the same, and witness the fortune it brought you.”
Mulganba did not reply immediately; Lumbarra’s response had been exactly what he wanted, and best to let the other men think about it for a moment longer.
Nhumee Djara, a prominent scribe who had documented several of Mulganba’s trade agreements, said, “But where could we flee? Even the Nuttana are not far enough away; I fear that they will march up the coast taking city after city.”
“You give these Horse-Men too much credit,” said Mulganba. Breaking the League had been easy because they had not known how to fight Horse-Men. The first battle had been the decisive one, but the struggle put up since showed that their cavalry could be challenged by men who knew what they were doing. “They will not find it so easy to march north.”
Lumbarra said, “What is to stop them? Oh, they will not be at the gates of Wujal next year. But no-one dares face them in battle, and they will not cease conquering until they are firmly defeated.”
Gumboo, one of the most useful spice brokers to deal with, said, “If we must flee, it should be somewhere that their horses cannot ride after us.”
Mulganba raised an eyebrow. This conversation was leading exactly where he had hoped. “Somewhere across the waves, perhaps?”
Lumbarra laughed, with a hint of desperation behind it. “What island is there worth having? If it is already full of men, then we would need to fight them; battle here would be preferable to battle far away. And no island would be safe from bloodthirsty Māori coming raiding.”
“Unless it is full of malaria, where even the Māori dare not tread,” Gumboo said.
“Where does that leave?” Lumbarra asked, resignation in his tone.
“Nowhere,” Nhumee declared.
Mulganba offered silent thanks to the Green Lady. Never mind selling sugar; he could extract much more wealth from these desperate Kiyungu by negotiating a deal to take them to a place of security. He said, “If you are determined to flee, I know a place.”
Sure enough, he had their interest; their keen looks demonstrated that. “Sail as far as the Nuttana have, and you learn about many lands. This world is a far larger place than you might know.”
“I know the size of the globe. I have seen world maps,” Nhumee said.
“Raw Men maps,” Mulganba said. “With their poor, heavy ships where they can claim to chart a coastline and miss all of the good harbours. The Raw Men are cunning artificers in so many ways, but their mapmaking and shipbuilding leaves much to be desired.”
“You mean you know a land which the Raw Men do not?” Lumbarra asked.
“A land which to the Raw Men is naught but a name and a squiggle on a map. The Pannidj [Spanish] claim it, but their pitiful charts do not even show its greatest harbour, one of the most superb anchorages in the world.” Mulganba wondered sometimes why the Pannidj even bothered to explore at all, since they missed so much of the coast.
“What is this land called?” Gumboo said.
Mulganba knew better than to answer that question directly yet. Interest must be built first. “It is a land where the Māori could never reach, so far across the globe. It has a few natives there, but they are like the wild men [hunter-gatherers] which your forefathers displaced when they moved north from the Coral Coast; few, rudely-armed, divided, and easily bargained with or pushed aside if needed. It is a land well-suited to decent crops – red yams and wealth-trees [wattles] would grow in abundance, although you would need irrigation for sweet potato. A land with fine lumber, game and fish to hunt until the crops can be established.”
“What is this land?” Lumbarra said.
“California, the Pannidj call it.”
“California!” Nhumee half-snorted the name. “You could not have named a more remote place.”
“I know of some further,” Mulganba said evenly. “But its distance is what makes it ideal. A fine, secluded harbour, fertile land, but with deserts which have stopped the Pannidj coming anywhere near the land. And far it may be, but it is easy to sail. Nuttana ships have explored the land; my uncle was among them. Reaching California is a long voyage, but not a dangerous one. We can sail north to Okinawa, then sail east with winds and currents behind us. It is easily done; it has been easily done. And at the other end, safety from the Seeker, for all time.”
Not to mention great wealth for the captains who accepted payment for the voyage, of course. California was decent land, from all Mulganba had heard, but its greatest attraction was that its remoteness would let he and his kin charge great fees for the voyage. With wealthy Kiyungu desperate to flee, what could be better?
“Safety from the Seeker may come at the price of danger from the Pannidj,” Lumbarra said.
“At a place in which they do not even know exists, even if they claim it?” Mulganba raised an eyebrow. “If permission is needed from the Pannidj, tell them we seek simply to set up a victualling station. They do not need to know how many people are there.” Wrangling permission from the Spanish could, in fact, take some negotiation, but Mulganba did not expect it to be a problem. The wealth being extracted from the Kiyungu for such an exodus would pay for any number of bribes to key Pannidj officials.
“This is not something which could be done overnight,” Nhumee said. “Many ships, many men, many months. Would we have enough time?”
“The Seeker is still to the south, and Kabigara still stands,” Mulganba said. “Dallying should not be encouraged, but time there is.” Those cities to the south held promise, too. The Seeker ruled the League, but perhaps men there would be dissatisfied with his rule. No change of ruler could stop traders coming back and forth, and where goods moved, so could men. Perhaps some of the conquered League-men would want to join this exodus. For the right price.
More, who could say what other resources this land called California held, once explored properly? Perhaps it would grow to be a useful trading place in its own right, just not a way to take the wealth of those desperate enough to be shipped there.
Gumboo said, “To California, then.” He raised his mug.
Lumbarra said, “No, to Kogung’s hosting-house, which brought us together, and whose children in spirit we will be, if we undertake this journey.”
* * *
From: “The World Historical Dictionary”
California Exodus
Also called California Migration or Wyrallah. The migration of Kiyungu and Nuttana from north-eastern Aururia to California, principally between 1712-1718. Their descendants form the Kogung (q.v.) of modern California. Sometimes considered part of the Nangu Diaspora (q.v.).
* * *
4 February 1733
Unknown California
“Come and see!” the scout announced.
Vicente Rodriguez Fidalgo, commander of His Catholic Majesty Carlos III’s first proper exploration to Upper California, did not hurry. Partly that was out of a sense of dignity; a commander maintained his authority in the field by being seen as composed and self-assured, not running around wildly. Mostly, though, it was from a sense of frustration.
Rumours of what could be found in Upper California had percolated through New Spain for several years. Many years before, the pagan Nuttana had won permission to set up a victualling station in California. He had never heard the official reason, but suspected that a certain favour in manner of Third World spices and jeeree had ensured that permission; after all, such goods were valuable in both the Orient and Europe.
Rumours, though, said that the Nuttana outpost had gone far beyond that of a mere victualling station. No Spanish ship had ever found exactly which harbour the Nuttana used, but then, that was understandable. The winds and currents off California pushed near-continuously to the south; sailing north to explore, or even chart the coast, was damned near impossible. A lesson which he had been reminded of in his own expedition here; it had been meant to be a joint search by land and sea, but the ships had been forced to turn back at Monterey after endlessly contrary winds.
Or maybe some ships did discover their base, but were bribed into silence. The thought had crossed his mind, amidst the many other frustrations of the exploration north. Ships had been trapped or failed to arrive in the first place, illness and scurvy plagued the expedition, as did travel across deserts which lacked water or decent food, and endless grumblings amongst the men. Nowadays, even minor matters seemed frustrating; their passage north had been blocked by the first glimpses of the arm of some bay which might – or might not – have been Port San Francisco which other Spaniards had reported [3] decades earlier. Then hills had stopped them from getting a proper sight of the bay.
Now, his scouts had returned from the ridge, and from the sounds of it, what they had discovered was something special. Or fearsome, perhaps.
In his own calculated time, Fidalgo made his way to the top of the ridge. There, he had to stop himself gasping. Composure, he reminded himself. A commander needs composure.
A great bay opened before them, sweeping wide to south and east and north. The far shore was visible, but the bay was clearly several miles wide. Its outlet must lie beyond further hills to the north [4]. But it was the lowlands which drew his attention. Here and on the far side of the bay, trees had been planted in endless neat rows. Trees which presented contrasting colours of bright golden flowers and dark green leaves. Much of the near shore, and parts of the far shore, were swathed in the golden hues.
When he inspected more closely, Fidalgo saw a decent-sized town on the near shore, and what looked like other towns on the farther shore, though those were smaller. Whoever lived here – presumably the Nuttana – had grown well-established.
“Those are cornnarts [wattles], aren’t they?” Fidalgo asked. He knew of no other cultivated trees which produced such colours.
The scout nodded.
So, this was the Nuttana colony, then. None of the natives here grew cornnarts. A large, well-settled colony indeed. What would the Governor of New Spain say when he heard of this outpost? Would he want to have it conquered? Worse, given the troubles of bringing men by land or sea, could it be conquered?
* * *
[1] i.e. those Kiyungu (and a few others) who have converted to Tjarrlinghi and now follow the Hunter’s cause.
[2] This refers to an area which the Aururians variously call the northern highlands or the southern gemlands, and which historically is called the New England tablelands. It is an area of highlands that has long been a source of tin, and anciently also of gold and gems, although most of the gold and gem mines have been exhausted. There is still some small-scale sapphire production.
[3] What the Spanish in this era thought of as San Francisco Bay was in fact the outer part of the bay (including historical Drake’s Bay), rather than the modern historical conception of San Francisco Bay as the harbour inside the Golden Gate. Historically, no Europeans discovered [5] San Francisco Bay until Gaspar de Portolá’s expedition reached it by land in 1769.
[4] Fidalgo’s expedition has followed a generally similar path to that which historically followed by Portolá’s expedition in 1769. They were both marching roughly along the coast, and were turned west by the first glimpse of San Francisco Bay. They have climbed the same ridge (historically called Sweeney Ridge), though in different locations, and gained the first full sight of San Francisco Bay.
[5] Obviously, San Francisco Bay had been discovered on more or less a daily basis for over ten thousand years by the people who already lived there.
* * *
Thoughts?
P.S. For those who are curious, this Kogung migration to California has been foreshadowed (in very general terms) in various special posts over the years. In the very first Christmas special (here), there was discussion of a “California Migration” which involved significant population movements, and an anatomically improbable suggestion involving a redwood which suggested that there were Plirites familiar with redwoods.
There were also various references to the Kogung. A later Christmas special named them as among Plirite groups which still celebrate Christmas as a secular holiday (here). In post #75, the Kogung were named amongst the groups who were sometimes (controversially) described as part of the Nangu Diaspora. One of the Halloween specials also featured a Kogung couple, in a place in which they can look west and see the sun setting over the Pacific, while also celebrating the Day of the Dead in a Spanish-influenced fashion (here). And in the recent post #107, Kogung's was named as the inn where the first people met when they decided to undertake a great migration.
P.P.S. As has been mentioned in the discussion posts, LoRaG is now going to slow down for a while as I work on some other projects, starting with the planned version of habitable Venus. I will post a link to that project (in the ASB forum) once it’s up and running.
