Aboard Cabrillo's Galleon (43 page)

In the first quiet moments that followed, as their bodies began to cool and their minds to calm, Taya lifted her head from where it rested upon his chest and said softly, “You are mine, Cabrillo, even if you have other women, even if you must go away. You are mine.”

Gazing into her lovely, intense eyes, he realized somewhat to his own surprise that her words were neither inconsequential nor, in a sense, untrue. Despite his inevitable departure, despite the love he held for his wife, a share of his affection and spirit would remain with Taya when he sailed from this island, as hers would stay with him. And in the years to come, his memories would undoubtedly return to this courageous, tender, lovely native woman.

They spoke for a while about her sons, and then about his. But talking of his other family became difficult for both of them, so she asked about how far away his voyage would take him and when he might return. This subject too was soon abandoned, and when words seemed unable to bring them comfort Taya's hand began to glide gently across the hair of his chest. When she raised her lips to be kissed, inducing their lovemaking to commence again, Cabrillo's awareness of his own feelings gave his movements a heightened intensity and poignancy.

This second sharing of their bodies left them fully satisfied, and for a while they held each other without the need for words, listening to the sounds of the village. It was then, with painful clarity, that the image of Beatriz rose in Cabrillo's mind. He pictured her as she'd looked on the morning he'd left Santiago, standing before the window in her thin nightdress, and he remembered the words she'd uttered then. “I am not inexperienced enough to think there will be no other female to comfort you,” she had said.

Now, he wondered if on that morning he'd truly intended to withhold his body and mind from every other woman, for two whole years and while so very far from everything he knew and loved. Such a thing would have been rare, if not unheard of, among his peers, but perhaps he had intended just that. If so, he'd failed. Would she, as her words implied, be able to forgive him? He prayed that she would, though he hoped she'd never know. He would not tell her. Confessing simply to try to cleanse himself of some of his own culpability would cause her much pain and cost them much affection. No, the guilt was his alone to bear.

He and Taya had shared little more than an hour together when she said with regret, “My sister and my sons will return soon.” They rose and she led him to a large water basket, into which she dipped a cloth, and began to gently bathe him. When she had finished he took great pleasure in returning the kindness, so much so that his ministrations threatened to carry them both back to the furs. Restraint managed to prevail, however, and they were soon fully dressed.

Perhaps it was the sobering effect of being clothed again that awakened the sudden realization in Cabrillo that his visits to this house could bring unwelcome consequences, and he cursed himself for thinking so little of it before. If Taya conceived a child, perhaps even twins again, it might result in serious hardship, especially since he would not be here to care for them. The islanders might even feel compelled to take drastic steps. There were many potions, he knew, that the native women had discovered to prevent or halt a pregnancy. Placing his hand upon her belly, he asked carefully, “Taya, what if a child comes?”

Concern and perhaps shame colored her cheeks, and she lowered her head, and Cabrillo guessed that she had already taken precautions to prevent such an outcome. He lifted her chin and said. “If you have done something to stop a child from coming, it is good. I cannot stay with you for long. A child could bring you much pain.”

Her eyes shone with gratitude for his understanding. “If I had twins again, my people would be certain they, my sons, and I were cursed. We all might be killed.”

“Yes. That must not happen.” Cabrillo knew he spoke against the teachings of his faith, and that condoning the prevention of life was another sin he must shoulder, but he felt that God would rather a child not be conceived at all than be slain along with its family after its birth. He avoided dwelling on the obvious alternative of keeping his distance from Taya.

Much relieved now, she said, “You should eat.”

Although he was not hungry, Cabrillo accepted the acorn cakes she offered with thanks. He'd grown quite fond of their flavor, as had his men, and he chewed them pensively, gradually letting his weightier thoughts drift away. When his hands were empty, Taya handed him another cake, which was indeed delicious. Having seen no oak trees on the island, he asked her, “What do your people trade in exchange for these acorns?”

“Many things.” She walked to the edge of her bed, lifted a small woven pouch from a post, and brought the bag to him. Opening it, Cabrillo reached in and pulled out a handful of flat shell disks that were nearly uniform in size. A hole had been drilled into each so that they could be strung onto a chord. He had seen such shell beads several times on the mainland, and he understood them to be used as currency among the coastal Indians.

“My people make them from those shells,” Taya said, pointing to a small basket of Olivella shells near the firestones.

Quite curious now, Cabrillo nodded and asked, “What else do you trade?”

Happy to share something of their ways with him, she said, “Tools, made from our island chert.” She gathered up several items from around her home and brought him a knife artfully knapped from a piece of a lustrous gray stone, a scraper formed from chert of the same color as her otter skin cape, and a bead drill so white its source might be mistaken for polished ivory.

He nodded, admiring the translucency of the stones. “What else?”

She thought for a moment and then said, “We also trade baskets, bows and arrows, and otter skins.”

He nodded again. “Your people are very...” he fought to remember a Chumash word for “resourceful” and finally offered, “clever.”

“Acorn cakes are good to eat, and they help us through winters when fish and sea lions are scarce.”

He would have questioned her further but they were then interrupted by the entrance of Taya's young boys, one of them cradling a small gray fox in his arms. When the animal spotted Cabrillo it let out a high-pitched yip and tucked its head into the crook of Alow's elbow.

Chuckling, Cabrillo said in Spanish, “So this is what's been making that sound in the night.” He asked Taya, “Are there many of these animals on the island?”

“Yes, many.”

Yet this was the first one Cabrillo had seen, so holding a tame one must be a rarity.

Seeming spellbound by Cabrillo's presence, and perhaps a little uneasy that their mother remained so close to the strange warrior from the sea, the boys didn't take their eyes from him as they and their aunt seated themselves several feet away.

Hoping to put them at ease, Cabrillo thought for a moment about what he possessed that might serve as gifts to two so young. Nothing came to mind and he was about to abandon the idea when he remembered the coins in the pouch at his belt, which he carried more out of long habit than in anticipation of their usefulness here. Fingering through several of the small silver disks, he chose a couple of half-real pieces. Since being struck, these coins too had been drilled with holes, allowing their previous owners to string their wealth and keep it tucked into their shirts or breeches. Through gestures, the captain-general asked Taya to bring him two thin chords about eighteen inches in length. Once these thongs had been provided he made each boy a medallion necklace, handed them to Taya, and indicated that she was to give them to her sons.

Fascinated, she studied the side of a coin that bore the image of the late King Ferdinand II encircled by letters, and then the other showing the simple striped shield of Aragon. When her eyes lifted they held a thousand questions but, for now, she kept them to herself. She returned the necklaces to Cabrillo and in an earnest manner asked if he would bestow them himself.

Understanding now that the gifts would mean more if presented directly by him, he smiled and nodded. When Taya called Alow and Muhu nearer, Cabrillo said to the boys as he showed them each face of a coin, “These carry the marks of my king and my land. They are for you.” He leaned forward, separately looped a necklace over each small head, and sat back to observe the looks of wonder on the enchantingly similar faces.

Taya said to them with a gravity that held their attention, “Wear these gifts with care, my sons. They carry much power.”

Wide-eyed, the boys ran their fingers over the shiny metal with stamped images and raised edges, and looked up at the bearded man. Almost in unison, they gave him a sign that represented appreciation, and Cabrillo bowed his head in acknowledgment.

Suddenly restless, the boys asked their mother if they might show their new treasures to a friend and, receiving her permission, they scurried outside with their aunt close behind. Cabrillo smiled as he watched, then turned to their mother and said, “I must return to my duties, Taya.”

She knew she had no choice but to accept this. “Will you come tomorrow?”

“I will try.”

As he left her embrace and the warmth and relief she'd given him, he also relinquished the sense of family that he'd found for a few moments and with these surrenderings the feeling of guilt returned to steal much of the pleasure he'd known in her company. Yet as he walked away from her lodge he knew that he would return. He told himself that in the weeks to come the culpability that resulted from his weaknesses might grow easier to bear; no less damning, just less weighty.

He might even come to believe that God could forgive his frailties when he could not.

Chapter 23

T
HE BOY WHO DREAMED

T
heir days glided into an uneven pattern that ebbed and flowed with Cabrillo's visits to Taya and her family and his returns to the countless demands of the fleet. Wind and rain became familiar if unwelcome companions, but he didn't let weather forestall the work at hand. Food was caught in abundance and meted out with prudence, and there seemed more than enough fresh water to see them through their stay. Within the first two weeks, Cabrillo was pleased to see the ships sealed, scrubbed, and much closer to seaworthiness, especially the
San Miguel
. Men began to turn their free energies to trading for warmer clothing fashioned from the otter and sea lion skins harvested from around the island.

As intermittent winter storms broke out at sea and raged with fury, the harbor shielded them well. Cabrillo, his captains, and his pilots spent many hours studying the changes in the winds and reviewing the currents they'd charted, and they laid and relaid plans on how to seek the best route northeastward when the time came. With the days growing colder, winter delivered an occasional soft snow flurry to display the harbor in a picturesque whiteness.

Although squabbles inevitably broke out among the men over who was chosen to visit the “women's hut,” as it was soon dubbed, nothing arose between Cabrillo's own men that couldn't be quelled by a couple of whacks from his boatswain's well-aimed billet. Not unusually, and despite Father Gamboa's unflagging efforts, tensions rose high aboard the
San Miguel
and the whip was called into action from time to time. Though Cabrillo was aware of these stirrings of discontent, he knew that Captain Correa and his officers made every effort to keep things controlled enough to avoid reporting their troubles.

What concerned Cabrillo even more than this was the growing strain between the fleet's men and the Chumash warriors. Fistfights had already taken place, and during the third altercation one of his men had been slashed by a stone knife. Fortunately the wound had not been serious and the responsible warrior, threatened by Matipuyaut with banishment if he did not offer adequate gifts for reconciliation, extended his olive branch. So things had settled into a delicately pendulating peace, but Cabrillo feared it would not last.

He did what he could to foster and maintain close ties with the island leaders, visiting them often, seldom empty-handed. In time the captain-general and his small group of close companions grew to be such a familiar sight that the natives began to lose some of their uneasiness around him. Much to the disquiet of Vargas, Cabrillo occasionally walked with only Taya, her father, or one of her brothers along various paths of Isla de Posesión, taking note of all he learned and working to improve his abilities with the Chumash language.

He soon discovered that the chert tools Taya had shown him on his first visit to her lodge represented only a small sample of the articles made from the local stone, and his interest in it often led him to the southeastern point of the island, where the natives conducted extensive mining activities. While either at the quarry or back among the knappers' lodges, Cabrillo enjoyed studying the methods of these artisans as they unearthed and shaped their points and edges. One of Taya's uncles even permitted the captain-general to try his hand at knapping, but this clumsy though concentrated endeavor created little more than a few minutes of amusement for the expert, several cuts to Cabrillo's fingers, and a distinct absence of interest in a second knapping attempt.

On other occasions, he and Taya walked to small quarries of another kind. He counted more than fifteen different sites where a type of volcanic rock could be extracted and worked to provide pestles, grinding stones, and huge oblong mortars. These pumice goods may have lacked the luminous beauty of the tools flaked from chert, but Taya informed him that they were highly prized by their mainland neighbors. During one of their first visits to a pumice works on a very early morning, he innocently asked if such heavy stones were difficult to transport in their small canoes.

Her expression became distant, and she said weakly, “Men can be lost. Good men.” She started to turn away from him, but Cabrillo took her hand and drew her back.