History of California Part 4

"Yes, and many others," said Payuchi. "Then some of the men and all of us boys got green branches of trees and came down on this side of the wash. Nopal started the fire. It burned along in the gra.s.s slowly at first, and when it came too near the jacals on one side or the woods on the other, we would beat it out with the branches, but soon it ran before the wind into the cactus and bunch gra.s.s. The rabbits were frightened out and ran from the fire as fast as they could, and in a few minutes they were right at the feet of father and the other hunters.

They killed forty before the smoke made them run too."

"My dress was made of their skin," said the little girl, smoothing her gown lovingly. "It keeps me so warm."

"Did the fire burn long?" asked Gesnip.

"No, we beat it out, or it would have gone up the wash into the live oaks; then we boys should have been well punished for our carelessness."

Here their mother called to them.

"Payuchi," she said, "put away this basket of gra.s.shopper meal. And, Gesnip, go to the jacal and find me the coils for basket weaving."

"What shall I bring?" asked Gesnip.

"The large bundle of chippa that is soaking in a basket, and the big coil of yellow kah-hoom and the little one of black tsuwish which are hanging up, and bring me my needle and bone awl."

"Do you want the coil of millay?"

"No, I shall need no red to-day."

Squatted on the ground, where she could feel the warmth of the fire on her back, but where the heat could not dry her basket materials, Macana began her work. Taking a dripping chippa, or willow bough, from the basket where it had been soaking, she dried it on leaves and wound it tightly in a close coil the size of her thumbnail, then spatted it together until it seemed no longer a cord, but a solid piece of wood.

Thus she made the base of her basket; then, threading her needle, which was but a h.o.r.n.y cactus stem set in a head of hardened pitch, she st.i.tched in and out over the upper and under the lower layer, drawing her thread firmly each time. The thread was the creamy, satin-like kah-hoom. Round and round she coiled the chippa, the b.u.t.t of one piece overlapping the tip of another, while with her needle she covered all with the smoothly drawn kah-hoom. After a time she laid the kah-hoom aside for a st.i.tch or two of the black root of the tule, called tsuwish.

The children had watched the starting of the basket, then had begun a game of match, with white and black pebbles. After a time Gesnip, looking up from her play, exclaimed, as she saw the black diamond pattern the weaver was making:--

"Mother, why are you weaving a rattlesnake basket?"

"I am making it to please Chinigchinich that he may smile upon me and guard you, children, and Cuchuma from the bite of the rattlesnake. There are so many of them here this year, and I fear for you."

"Thank you, mother," said Gesnip. "If t.i.tas's mother had made a black diamond basket, maybe the snake would not have bitten her."

"I think Chinigchinich does smile upon you," said Payuchi, "for when we were so hungry in the month of roots [October] you wove him the hunting basket with the pattern of deer's antlers, trimmed with quail feathers, and see how much food we have had: first the rabbits, then the gra.s.shoppers, and now the fish and elk."

"While you work tell us how the first baby basket was made," begged Cleeta. The mother nodded; and as she wound and pressed closely the moist chippa, and the cactus needle flew in and out with the creamy kah-hoom or the black tsuwish, she told the story.

"When the mother of all made the basket for the first man child, she used a rainbow for the wood of the back of the basket, with stars woven in each side, and straight lightning down the middle in front. Sunbeams shining on a far-away rain storm formed the fringe in front, where we use strips of buckskin, and the carry straps were brightest sunbeams."

"Mother, you left out that the baby was wrapped in a soft purple cloud from the mountains," said Cleeta.

"Yes, in a purple cloud of evening, wrapped so he could not move leg or arm, but would grow straight and beautiful," said the mother.

For a long while the children watched in silence the patient fingers at their work; then Gesnip asked, "Is it true, mother, that when you were a little child your father and mother and many of your tribe died of hunger?"

"It is true," replied Macana, sadly, "but who told you?"

"Old Cotopacnic, but I thought it was one of his dreams. Why were you all so hungry?" asked the girl.

"Because the rain failed for three seasons. After a time there was no gra.s.s, no acorns, the rabbits and deer died or wandered away, the streams dried up so there were no fish, the ground became so dry that there were no more grubs or worms of any kind, no gra.s.shoppers. There was nothing to eat but roots. Nearly all our tribe died, and many other people, too."

"How did you live?" asked Payuchi.

"My aunt had married a chief whose home was in a rich valley in the mountains where it is always green. She came down to see my mother, and when she found how hard it was to get food for us all, she took me by the hand and tumbled Sholoc who was smaller than little Nakin, into her great seed basket and took us off to the mountains until times should grow better; but the rains did not come until it was too late. I stayed with her until I married your father. Sholoc became a great hunter, then chief of the people of Santa Catalina, where he became a great fisherman also."

The children looked grave.

"Do you think such bad seasons can ever come again?" asked Gesnip.

"Who can tell?" replied the mother, with a sigh. "Last year was very bad and there is little rain yet this year. That is why the men offered gifts to Chinigchinich last night."

"n.o.body must take me away from you to keep me from being hungry," said gentle Cleeta, hiding her face in her mother's lap.

"If I were Chinigchinich," said Payuchi, "I would not let so many people die, just because they needed a little more rain. I would not be that kind of a G.o.d."

"Hush, my child," said the mother, sternly. "He will hear and punish you. If it is our fate, we must bend to it."

Chapter III

"The Secret of the Strait"

Cabrillo

One afternoon in September, in the year 1542, two broad, clumsy ships, each with the flag of Spain flying above her many sails, were beating their way up the coast of southern California. All day the vessels had been wallowing in the choppy seas, driven about by contrary winds. At last the prow of the leading ship was turned toward sh.o.r.e, where there seemed to be an opening that might lead to a good harbor. At the bow of the ship stood the master of the expedition, the tanned, keen-faced captain, Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo. He was earnestly watching the land before him, which was still some distance away.

"Come hither, Juan," he called to a st.u.r.dy lad, about sixteen, who, with an Indian boy, brought from Mexico as interpreter, was also eagerly looking landward. "Your eyes should be better than mine. Think you there is a harbor beyond that point?"

"It surely seems so to me, sir," answered the boy; "and Pepe, whose eyes, you know, are keener than ours, says that he can plainly see the entrance."

"I trust he is right; for this thickening weather promises a storm, and a safe harbor would be a gift of G.o.d to us weary ones this night," said the captain, with a sigh.

Since the fair June day when they had sailed out of the harbor on the west sh.o.r.e of Mexico, they had been following first up the coast line of the Peninsula, then of Upper California. No maps or charts of the region showing where lay good harbors or dangerous rocks, could be found in Cabrillo's cabin. Instead, there were maps of this South Sea which pictured terrible dangers for mariners--great whirlpools which could suck down whole fleets of vessels, and immense waterfalls, where it was thought the whole ocean poured off the end of the land into s.p.a.ce. A brave man was Captain Cabrillo, for, half believing these stories, he yet sailed steadily on, determined, no matter what happened to himself, to do his duty to the king under whose flag he sailed, and to the viceroy of Mexico, whose funds had furnished the expedition.

California has ever been noted for its brave men, but none have been more courageous than this explorer, who was probably the first white man to set his foot upon its soil. As the ship approached land the crew became silent, every eye being turned anxiously to the opening of the pa.s.sage which appeared before them. The vessel, driven by the stiff breeze, rushed on, almost touching the rock at one point. Then, caught by a favorable current, it swept into mid-channel, where it moved rapidly forward, until at length it rode safely in the harbor now known as San Diego Bay.

"It is a good port and well inclosed," said Juan Cabrillo, with great satisfaction, gazing out upon the broad sheet of quiet water. "We will name it for our good San Miguel, to whom our prayers for a safe anchorage were offered this morning." Then, when the two ships were riding at anchor, the commander ordered out the boats.

"We will see what kind of people these are, dodging behind the bushes yonder," said he. As the Spaniards drew near sh.o.r.e they could see many fleeing figures.

"What a pity they are so afraid," said Cabrillo. "If we are to learn anything of the country, we must teach them that we mean them no harm."

"Master," said Pepe, "there are three of them hiding behind those bushes."

"Is it so, lad? Then go you up to them. They will not fear you." So the Indian boy walked slowly forward, holding out his hands with his palms upward, which not only let the natives see that he was unarmed, but in the sign language meant peace and friendship. As he drew near to them an old man and two younger ones, dressed in scanty shirts of rabbit-skins, came from their hiding places and began to talk to Pepe, but, though they also were Indians, they did not speak his language. Some of their words were evidently similar to his, and by these and the help of signs he partly understood what they said. Presently he returned to the group on sh.o.r.e.

"They say there are Spaniards back in the country a few days' journey from here."