Aboard Cabrillo's Galleon (41 page)

When Cabrillo's patience had finally been consumed he placed his hands firmly on his table, stood up, and said, “Enough, gentlemen. Unless there are any overpowering objections,” he cocked an eyebrow in warning at Correa, “this is how we will proceed. One woman will be chosen by Captain Ferrelo, and one by Captain Correa. Of the eight females remaining, three will be made available to the pilots and shipmasters, one to the boatswains, and the remaining four will be assigned to the men. The crewmen will be allowed to visit their women
only
as a special recompense for exemplary work and behavior, and no more than one man from
La Victoria,
one from the
San Miguel
per day may be rewarded. Because of her significantly larger crew, two men from the
San Salvador
may visit the women daily. Rotating men from a different watch each day might work best, but I leave that to you captains. Finally, no man is to be given leave to go ashore for pleasure until our repairs are well underway and our basic stores have been replenished. The
San Miguel
will be hauled ashore tomorrow, and until I give the word to the contrary none but those with special permission may leave the beach.”

His glance swept the nodding heads, pausing pointedly at Correa until that officer closed his poised lips and smiled in angelic acquiescence. Cabrillo slapped the table decisively, substantiating the accord. “Good. There is but one more approval we need to obtain before we put our plan into action. Matipuyaut must agree that this will be workable for his people. If not, I will ask what might be more acceptable. Until I speak to the chief, there are to be no announcements made to the men. Is that understood, gentlemen?”

A muttered “Yes, sir,” circled the group, and the meeting drew to an end at last.

Cabrillo warned them in parting, “Keep a vigilant watch, especially until dawn. I expect no trouble but each crew must be prepared for whatever comes. I wish you all a peaceful night.”

Whether ears had been pressed to a wall or a keyhole, Cabrillo would never know, but he stepped from his cabin that night to be met by a distinctly more cheerful crew than the one he'd commanded before entering his chamber. As he moved about the decks, grins could not be fully erased from the younger men's faces. Knowing looks of anticipation shifted from station to station and deck to deck, though a measure of care was exerted to avoid being distinctly noticed by an officer. Seamen elbowed each other with a wink and a nod. Among even the oldest and crustiest of his sailors the captain-general perceived a new and benevolent sort of contentment, as if they'd just been assured of an open-armed greeting at the gates of heaven.

Accepting these proofs of the thinness of his cabin walls with neither wasted questions nor protestations, Cabrillo stood his watch in relative tranquility and kept his own anticipations and fears to himself. He reflected for a time on the fact that tomorrow had always been miserly about revealing her intentions to mortals, demanding instead that they await her actual arrival.

When the morning did appear Chief Matipuyaut wasted no daylight before visiting the
San Salvador
. A flustered Paulo wakened Cabrillo with, “Sir, that island king is approaching the ship.” Much to Paulo's further discontentment, Cabrillo brushed him away and hurriedly dressed himself without choosing his newly washed breeches or fully taming his wild hair but finishing just in time to meet Matipuyaut's party as they set foot aboard.

Cabrillo had wished that the chief and his sons would accept his invitation to the ship after his crew had a chance to make her and themselves more presentable. Nevertheless, the men of the flagship did their best to receive them and their small cluster of guards with gracious hospitality. Shortly after formalities had been exchanged, Cabrillo took a moment to obtain the chief's permission to land the
San Miguel
and ordered that effort to proceed at once.

Once his men were in motion, Cabrillo led the islanders on Matipuyaut's second comprehensive tour of the flagship. He evidently found it even more fascinating than the first time, since he posed questions about everything from barrels and bunks to bridles and binnacles. Upon passing the below-deck quarters of the horses Matipuyaut shook his head in concern and asked, “Do they not wish to come ashore?”

“Yes, as badly as men do,” Cabrillo answered.

Matipuyaut turned to one of his warriors and muttered a few short instructions, and the man quickly left them. “A place will be made ready where they stayed before, Cabrillo.”

“I am grateful,” he replied sincerely, though he had not forgotten Matipuyaut's request to ride Viento.

As they walked throughout the ship they conferred about the materials that might be available for repairs, as well as the terms of trade and the details for transporting goods from the island to their decks. When all preparations had been made, the party moved ashore to more closely observe the unloading and beaching of the bergantine. This process and every step of her initial repairs intrigued Matipuyaut and his sons, down to scraping her hull, patching planking, caulking seams, and brewing pitch. Peering into the pitch pot, the chief asked a few questions and then offered insights into how his people concocted tar for sealing their own canoes, advice that Cabrillo and his caulkers noted closely since they had had only limited success in refining the
yop
they'd traded for on the mainland.

With the ships and the shore humming with activity, Cabrillo returned with Matipuyaut to the flagship to fulfill his promise of the evening before by demonstrating the mechanics of
San Salvador's
guns. Growing more comfortable and fascinated as the instructions progressed, the chief attended eagerly when Cabrillo ordered his master gunner to have one of the currently mounted bombardetas loaded and aimed. With swift precision the selected cannoneer slid a five-pound stone ball into the rear opening of the wrought-iron tube. He then grabbed up one of the gun's slightly conical-shaped and loop-handled iron powder chambers, and checked to see that his assistant had properly filled it with a cloth bag of gunpowder. Clapping the readied chamber in place at the butt of the bombardetta just behind the ball, he motioned for his assistant to ram a tapered breechblock between the powder chamber and the back brace of the wooden carriage, which he then gave a couple of sharp raps with his mallet to pound it snug. Finally, the gunner used his knife to quickly prick the chamber's powder bag through the touchhole, which worked to fill the small space with priming powder. It took only a moment longer to slightly reposition the loaded great gun to point at the spot Cabrillo had selected away from the people on shore.

When the loading was complete, the gunner turned toward the master gunner and the captain-general and waited with his slow twine fuse lit and handy. Cabrillo said “Master Uribe, have the men ashore warned of the blast.” Uribe passed the order to the boatswain, who cried out, “Men on the beach, guns will be firing into the hillside to your north.” The sailors paused long enough to understand the message, and while many stood still to watch the blast, many others returned to their tasks. Before giving the order to fire, Cabrillo cautioned their guests to stay clear of the gun and cover their ears. When he gave a nod and his master gunner ordered, “Fire!” the gunner brought his match cord to the touchhole and ignited the charge.

Although Matipuyaut and his men had obeyed Cabrillo's instructions to cover their ears, at the sudden roar that burst from the recoiling cannon nothing could have kept them from instinctively leaping backward. The blast sent the round stone crashing into the island's rocky cliff, scattering the sea lions below and setting off a barking uproar while chasing the terrified Chumash from the beach. Stunned for an instant, Matipuyaut turned his gaze from the hill, to the gun, to Cabrillo. His expression settled into a grave comprehension of the potential consequences foretold by the power he had just witnessed. Here was a might far beyond what his people possessed, a force equally capable of protection or conquest.

“The gods are watching what we do this day,” he said reflectively.

He hesitated for a couple of seconds when Cabrillo asked if he'd like to fire the next round, and then walked up to the gun and accepted the match chord as another charge was loaded. Better prepared this time, he checked his emotions firmly, carefully lit the cannon's powder, and leaped beyond the reach of the recoil. When the ball exploded from the metal tube and smashed against the crag only three feet from the indentation caused by the first shot, the crewmen raised an approving cry that rivaled the roar of the weapon. When the cannon smoke cleared Matipuyaut stoically accepted the congratulations of the officers, but he and his warriors maintained a quiet reserve during the rest of their time aboard.

Word soon reached the ship through one of Matipuyaut's men that two corrals for the horses had been finished. Though Cabrillo silently questioned whether the bustle ashore was reaching too fevered a pitch for the Chumash to smoothly accept another foreign activity, he ultimately allowed the process of bringing his equine treasures ashore to commence. As he boarded his boat and watched his stallion descend into the water, he told himself that his accompanying Viento to the beach had nothing to do with a desire to see Taya. He would have done so anyway, but he
had
told her he'd come ashore today and during the brief landing this morning she had not appeared.

Viento was so eager to be off the ships that, much to Matipuyaut's astonishment, the stud hurried the rowers toward the sand rather than the other way around. Sitting near Cabrillo in the boat, hugely impressed by Viento's powerful strokes against the current, the chief uttered a continuous and excited string of encouragement to the swimming horses.

Once ashore, Father Lezcano quickly removed the lead lines, and Cabrillo slowly led Viento in a wide circle. After the first circuit, the captain-general invited Matipuyaut to walk with them, and Viento accepted his presence and his quiet, ongoing dialogue without protest. When Cabrillo felt that his stallion's muscles had been somewhat revived, he stopped, grabbed a handful of mane, and swung onto Viento's bare back.

Both man and horse reveled in this latest reunion of their bodies and hearts, and Cabrillo smiled as his stallion tossed his head and gently pranced in place. When Viento's legs had loosened a bit more, his master let him to walk in the ring they'd formed in the sand, his spirit soaring along with his pleasure.

Knowing that Cabrillo would relish a few moments of relative solitude with his horse, Father Lezcano escorted Matipuyaut back along the beach to where Seguro was now being landed. Cabrillo was parading around the circle, patting and talking to Viento, when he looked up and there on the hill above him stood Taya. Her hair, skirt, and fur cape danced lightly with the breeze, her two small boys at her sides. Cabrillo waved at them, and one of the boys waved back, and then Taya took hold of her sons' hands and headed toward the path that led down to the corral. Cabrillo and his stud arrived before them.

Surrendering Viento's reins to Mateo and noting that Matipuyaut was still occupied with Father Lezcano and Seguro, Cabrillo met Taya with a warm, “Taya, I am glad to see you.” She smiled her greeting as her sons, half-hidden behind her, peered up at Cabrillo.

“Come,” said Taya to her boys, gently inching them into full view. “This is Muhu,” she said to Cabrillo, touching the head of the one on her left. With hand signals she indicated a bird and verbalized a low hooting sound.

“Ah, Muhu, owl,” muttered Cabrillo.

The boy on her right, she introduced as “Alow” and pointed to a cloud overhead and another far to the east.

Nodding in understanding, Cabrillo repeated the name. Pointing to his chest, he said with authority, “Cabrillo.”

Taya gently nudged them both, and they piped in unison, “Cabrillo!”

The captain-general chuckled at this, causing the two youngest members of his adopted family to break out in shy smiles.

Taya said, “I gathered prawns and a small squid this morning. Will you eat with us?”

Aware that more was being asked than these words indicated, he said, “Matipuyaut is my guest aboard the ship. I will try to come tomorrow.”

Matipuyaut and Father Lezcano approached leading Seguro, giving Cabrillo little further opportunity to converse with Taya and her sons. While the priest led the gelding to the pen the chief came to a halt and shooed Taya away as if she were no older than her sons, and said, “I wish to ride upon Viento, Cabrillo. My daughter can watch from over there.” Taya moved off but not quite as far as her father had indicated, and Father Lezcano came to stand beside her.

Cabrillo took the precaution of attaching a lead rope to his stud's bridle before giving Matipuyaut a brief lesson in how to hold and maneuver the reins and then relinquished control of the leather straps. Following his instructions, Matipuyaut gently signaled his wishes to Viento, though this was not really necessary with Cabrillo walking next to them as they advanced several times around the circle of sand. With every new circuit the chief grew more relaxed until he suddenly waved triumphantly to his people and let out a loud yip of delight. At the sudden cry, Viento shied sideways and Matipuyaut almost lost his seat despite Cabrillo's quick reaction to still his horse. After taking a moment to recover, the fact that he'd remained on his mount during this lurch pleased the chief greatly, and he rode about the ring for the last time sitting even taller and prouder than before. Returning to the corral, Matipuyaut dismounted with reluctance, ran his hand several times over Viento's neck and chest to show his appreciation, and announced to Cabrillo with wonderfully accurate pronunciation, “Now we go back to
San Salvador
.” Within an hour of their landing the captain-general and the chief were rowed away from the island.