Aboard Cabrillo's Galleon (45 page)

Cabrillo had heard the mourning wails from his quarterdeck. “And was this the end of the ceremony?”

“Only in the ring of the gods. From there, Kipomo and his helpers carried the body to a place that had been prepared for the burial. We all followed, singing with great sadness because of his youth and his promise, that was now lost to us. When the body was lowered into the grave, the family encircled it with weapons, clothing, bowls, and many other things he would need in the next life. Our men covered him with earth and planted a spear upright above the spot where his head rested.” When she lifted her eyes to Cabrillo, unshed tears shone in them. “He had been a fine fisherman for one so young, so his mother carefully laid his fishing tools on top of the grave. She bore a heavy heartache, the most dreadful kind that a mother can bear, yet she showed great courage, more courage than I could have shown if I had lost either of my sons.”

Cabrillo placed his hand upon her knee and she covered it with her own, and they sat watching the embers and flames, lost in thought. After some time, he asked, “Taya, what do your people believe happened to the boy's soul?” When she did not answer, he said, “Can you tell me?”

Beginning slowly and in a hushed tone, she said, “A spirit remains near its earthly home for a while after a death. Food is set out for it so that it does not go hungry. Tomorrow will be the fifth day, and that is when it will travel to Humqaq.”

She answered a few more of his queries, and Cabrillo came to understand that the Chumash considered Humqaq to lie northward across the channel at the place he had named Point Conception. “What happens at Humqaq?”

“There is a pool where the soul can bathe. As soon as it is cleansed, it paints itself with beautiful images depicting its life, and when all is ready a light appears in the west. The spirit rises into the air and follows the light to the gate that leads to Shimilaqsha, the heavenly land.”

Very gently, he asked, “Then, your husband is in Shimilaqsha?”

She shook her head sadly and said with concern, “One who drowns is doomed to wander the seas forever. This is the main reason it takes great courage to be a man of the canoe.” Her eyes begged him to take special care while sailing upon the water, for the sake of his soul as well as for himself and for her. Because of her apprehensions, he did not try to correct her beliefs. He merely said, “Tell me more about the gate.”

“Before it are high walls of clashing rocks and two huge ravens, and each of these mighty birds pecks out an eye of the entering spirit.”

Cabrillo frowned at this unpleasant image but didn't interrupt her.

“There are many beautiful poppies that grow there, and the spirit has only to pick two of these and place them where its eyes had been, and its sight returns. These new celestial eyes allow the spirit to travel the path of the dead to reach Shimilaqsha, where it is rewarded with brilliant eyes made from blue abalone. There are lights all along the pathway that a spirit travels, the same lights we see in the night sky that cluster close together to form a flattened ring.”

“The Milky Way,” murmured Cabrillo thoughtfully, “a pathway for the dead.” He lay down and placed his head in her lap. “What does a spirit do then, Taya?”

“It visits all three lands of the world. The one beneath us, where two giant snakes hold up our earth, the world we live in, and the one above us that is held high up by the great eagle.”

“It comes back to this world? Do you know when spirits come to visit?”

“No, Cabrillo. I have never been aware of one's return.”

“I see. And once the spirit passes through all these lands, what happens?”

“It remains in Shimilaqsha being further cleansed and healed. When it is ready, it returns to the womb of a Chumash woman to be born again.”

He took a moment to mull over these strange beliefs, and then he asked her, “So, the great eagle is also the sun and moon?”

A smile appeared, but she went on tolerantly, “No, the sun is a very old widower who carries his torch across the sky. The moon is a lovely female, and she has much power to heal and to bring forth children.”

“Was it Kipomo who taught your people these things?”

Taya's brows knitted at the hint of scoffing behind the question. “These beliefs are different from those of your people, Cabrillo, but they are very old. And you should not doubt Kipomo's authority here, or his importance. He is needed.”

“Very well, tell me how is he important?”

“He is wise in the ways of the stars. He reads their signs and chooses names for our children that will serve them throughout their lives. There was great sadness the other day, because the
momoy
was too strong for the boy who left us, but Kipomo has helped many boys reach manhood through their dream quests.” She spoke faster and with more emotion as her defense mounted. “I have seen him heal souls that have been broken as well as bodies. Also, he will soon lead us in the sun prayers and dancing and feasting. He shows us where to place the sun sticks and poles so the sun will know of our watchfulness and will come back to earth.”

Cabrillo well knew that the winter solstice was approaching, and he'd learned years ago of other native beliefs surrounding it. “Without Kipomo, the sun might continue to go away?”

“The days could grow shorter and shorter until there is only darkness.”

He kept his voice as benign as possible but he had to ask, “Taya, do you believe that Kipomo has that kind of power, power to control the sun?”

She studied his face, her confusion clear. “Do you not believe that Father Lezcano can persuade God to send us fair weather, to heal us when we are sick, and to help all of us reach paradise? Are those powers not as strong?”

He had to silently admit that he could perceive her point, and he shook his head in surrender. “I see that Father Lezcano is the better man to speak of such things than I.”

Heartened by this admission, Taya ran a finger over the arch of each of his eyebrows and let her gaze settle on his. “I am happy that you are with me, and I thank whatever god brought you here.”

He pulled her closer and brushed his lips across hers.

Chapter 24

S
NOW AND SWORD

W
ith a fascination more readily found in a scientist than a sea captain, Cabrillo maintained a careful distance but close attention while observing the winter solstice rites Taya had described to him. Few of his men were quite as intrigued by the native dancing and praying or as watchfully studious of the movements of the shadows thrown by planted poles as the sun's distance from the earth expanded. During those few days that held such religious importance to the islanders, Cabrillo did his best to console Fathers Gamboa and Lezcano as they heard reports of these pagan practices from sailors who had gone ashore. As discouraging as it was to the priests that such native activities ignored the Christian teachings they'd been working to convey, they did their best to continue undauntedly on.

Winter's birth came and went, and the islanders rejoiced that Kipomo's guidance had convinced the sun to reverse its outward course and begin its journey back to them.

Perhaps because these heathen rituals had recently been conducted all around them, and even more because they were so far from their families and the pleasures of home, the Christians awaited the arrival of Christmas Day with great anticipation. This mood brought with it an unusual level of consideration from such roughened men. Many old affronts were forgiven or forgotten. Cursing fell to so low a level that the officers grew suspicious that some mischief must be afoot. Confessions were offered up to the priests in record numbers, keeping them happily busy throughout their days, and the plans for Christmas Mass and a feast ashore were being made with particular care.

When the glorious day arrived with an easing of the buffeting wind and a bright visit from the previously ineffusive sun, Cabrillo's men greeted each other with hearty voices and smiles. Some exchanged small gifts, half-embarrassed by the gratitude returned and insisting that the present was nothing at all. Others shared stories of Christmases past. All looked forward to the upcoming feast.

Once ashore men knelt for Mass and prayed with renewed hearts, minds, hopes, and intentions, and Father Gamboa blessed them in a tone that touched his flock with its deeply felt benevolence. Much to the happiness of both priests, many of the Chumash attended the rite as well, settling into an outer ring and standing, kneeling, and imitating the communal prayers in unison with the Christians. Beloved Christmas songs were sung with such gusto that even a few sea lions added their voices to the chorus.

Afterward, Cabrillo took pleasure in surveying the ongoing preparations for the feast. A handful of Vargas' soldiers and several islanders had killed, hauled ashore, and cleaned an elephant seal the previous evening, and its carcass had been roasting together with some of Cabrillo's precious spices in a stone-lined pit beneath the sand for more than fourteen hours. As both sailors and villagers began removing the layers of woven mats and leaves that protected this gastronomic treasure, Cabrillo inhaled the rich aroma, which triggered and outrageous growl from his empty stomach.

Taya, who had hurried back to her home after Mass, returned along with many other native women and their children. She carried a basket filled with acorn and seed cakes that would sweeten the special meal. The cooks from the
San Salvador
and
La Victoria
had been posted beside two huge iron pots, awaiting the signal to begin scooping mountains of steaming mussels and clams onto large woven mats before them, from which diners could serve themselves. Their massive cooking vessels were large enough to hold the flesh of a six-foot shark, and this was exactly what was cooking in the kettle overseen by the
San Miguel's
cook.

Captain Correa walked up to Cabrillo and grinned broadly at his commander. “It may not be home, sir, but we have been given a day to be grateful for, have we not?”

“All seems well, Captain, in heaven and on earth.”

Correa slapped his stomach and smacked his lips. “It will be quite agreeable to fill this belly to near bursting. My clothes are hanging on mere bones.”

It was true that they'd all lost weight, but Correa seemed to have lost less than anyone, so Cabrillo's eyebrow rose a bit at this proclamation.

His look of skepticism brought a bark of laughter from Correa. “Well, perhaps our men can use a fine meal as much as I.”

Gaspar, one of Correa's more notoriously troublesome men, approached with a bowl tucked under his arm, bowed deeply, and said with deliberate care, “Pardon me, sirs, but I'm sent by Sergeant Major Vargas to respectfully ask when the meal is to commence. He fears the horde is showing, as he said, ‘perilous signs of impatience.'”

Cabrillo glanced over at Matipuyaut, who appeared to be as anxious as everyone else to begin. “If all is ready, tell him the cooks may start dishing out.”

“Thank you, Captain-General,” said Gaspar, bowing again to each and departing at a trot.

As the two commanders walked back to the cook fires, Correa muttered in wonder, “I can scarcely believe the change in that man lately, sir. It must be the promise of women, but he's taken to his work with the diligence of a saint. He's not felt the whip in many a day.”

“As I recall,” said Cabrillo, “you wanted to throw him overboard a time or two while we were at sea, and I was hard pressed to think of a reason to forbid it.”

“I did indeed, sir, but the man truly has done well lately. He's nearly convinced me he's worth his salt. I've told him he'll be allowed a visit to the women's hut tomorrow if he behaves ‘til then.” Chuckling low and rumbly, he said, “I've often thought it a fortunate thing that women fail to comprehend the power they have over us poor male creatures. If they only knew, they could govern every kingdom in the world.”

Cabrillo grinned along with him. Then, thinking of Taya, he said to himself, “Perhaps, in a way, they do.”

The two officers joined the crowd and soon had their wooden bowls and trenchers full. Cabrillo, sitting with Matipuyaut on one side, Father Lezcano on the other, and Taya and her boys in the ring of women and children not far behind, gazed between mouthfuls at those around him as they dove into their food. Sentimental on that Christmas day, the sailors laughed loudly and often as they ate, and their joviality during the feast helped fill homesick hearts as well as it did depleted bellies. Although Cabrillo had forbidden the consumption of anything stronger than spring water, the enforcement of this edict seemed to diminish none of the occasion's joy.

Before long Father Gamboa's bagpipe appeared and its hide bag quickly filled. A guitar and dozens of native flutes, rattles, and clacking sticks materialized as well. At the first clamorous notes of this colorfully assorted ensemble, much to the astonishment and amusement of the islanders, several sailors leaped up and began to perform various jigs, jotas, and less recognizable dances. While highly entertained by such exuberant and foreign movements on the sand, only a handful of Chumash could be convinced to try a few steps.

As Cabrillo watched the faces all around him, he contemplated the fact that the solitary emotional cloud appearing now and again came from the ever-present tensions between the Chumash men and sailors over the women. No amount of threats or punishments seemed able to keep some of the seamen from looking long and wistfully at particularly appealing females, and these glances were enough to cause the island men's faces to harden with jealousy. Fortunately, no smoking incident today had yet flared into an outright conflagration.

Though Matipuyaut sat very close throughout the festivities, Cabrillo could not help stealing glances at Taya, and when he did she would approach him to attend to his wishes, often letting a seemingly accidental touch remind him of their bond. He could see that she took pleasure in all she tasted, heard, and beheld, and he tucked these joy-filled images away in his memory, intending to keep them for a long, long time.