Their Mariposa Legend | Page 4

invaders, were cautiously returning. To the warriors grouped about the chief they proffered knives of which the steel blades, set in strong handles of bone, glistened in the sun. Eagerly, yet with a certain unexpected formality, the men accepted these, passing them for examination from one to another with many a grunt of satisfaction. To be sure, no brave among them but might the next moment decide to try out the merits of his gift upon the bestower, but this danger the adventurers had to risk. More timidly the women, their eyes fixed wistfully upon the gaudy red and yellow cloth, approached the strangers, offering in their turn bits of abalone shell polished to iridescent beauty.
They seemed in truth a gentle, friendly people, so much so that at length the sailors, deeming it safe to undertake the second part of their errand, began to plead for water and to request, besides, an interview between their captain and the chief. All this by means of signs in which they displayed no little wit and skill, the Englishmen accomplished until, well on toward the middle of the morning, they made ready to return to the ship, the casks they had brought brimming with sweet mountain water, while with them they bore as well the promise of an interview of state between the great chief Torquam and Sir Francis Drake, to take place upon the beach at sunset.
And then at once the little village of Toyobet seethed again with excitement. For these good paleface friends and their god-like commander a fitting welcome must be prepared. Fleet-footed messengers, bearing flaming torches, sped in hot haste along the mountain trails that all who saw might know without words spoken of the assembling of the tribe. To the distant village at the isthmus they hurried, and to the cove on the western coast, some twenty miles away, to which a band of warriors had gone several days before to hunt the otter. That no one among his people might remain in ignorance of his command, Torquam even caused signal fires to be kindled on each of the twin peaks, extinct volcanoes, near the center of the island. Smoke rising there was visible from every corner of his land, and woe to any subject who dared to disregard that warning!
Throughout the long bright day the women toiled, preparing a ceremonial feast. Three antelope, a deer, and half a dozen of the wild sheep which roamed the hills were killed and placed for roasting over deep pits dug in the sand. Nor did any member of the tribe forget in his own crude fashion to deck himself for the occasion. The warriors adorned their heads with feathers and daubed their cheeks and lips with ochre. The women clothed themselves in loose-hanging tunics of doeskin girt with strings of wampum, and hung about their tawny shoulders the lovely greens and blues of uncut turquoise. Meanwhile, also, the great chief Torquam donned his ceremonial dress, a string of eagle feathers held by the crimsoned quills of the porcupine and extending down his back until almost it touched the ground. About his neck, as token of his priesthood, he threw the bear-claw necklace, known far and wide among the tribes for its famous powers of healing. Wildenai alone made no change except to bind the satin black of her hair still more smoothly within a fillet of silver. In the center of the band, so that it rested just above her brow, a strange device appeared, a circle enclosing many rays, - the royal insignia of the tribe which only the daughter of the chief might wear.

Then at last when, in the sunset, level rays of light rested golden on the bay and turned to amethyst the distant mountains on the mainland, all was ready. Once again, this time to the weird music of tom-toms and the beating of drums, a boat was lowered from the ship while on the shore the Indians watched.
It was in truth a picture not soon to be forgotten. Behind the mirrored Bay of Moons, its crescent of sand gleaming white against the rocks, the bands of dusky men and women stood motionless as statues in the quiet light of the setting sun, while in the doorway of his lodge, his daughter close beside him, Torquam waited with simple dignity to receive his guests, the fair-skinned strangers.
At length along the beach advanced the little group of English, friends and fellow adventurers with the most renowned of all their great queen's buccaneers. Beside Sir Francis himself marched young Harold of Wessex, little more than a boy in years, yet dreaded and feared in his own land even then - a possible heir to Elizabeth's throne. Some short distance in front of these two, standard bearers carried the