“Now,” he said quietly, so as not to warn the chief. Yoritaka acted immediately, putting the chief into an immobilizing hold. Another samurai drew his katana, and held it speculatively, in front of the chief’s throat. The chief glanced down, at the sword’s glistening edge, and then back at Tokubei.
Tokubei grabbed the coin necklace and gave it a shake. He pointed at the village, and made a beckoning gesture. He pantomimed climbing a rope ladder. Then he folded his arms across his chest, and waited.
The chief tried to say something, realized it was futile, then simply bowed his head and waited.
“Well?” asked Yoritaki.
Tokubei took a deep breadth. “We’ll have to give him a chance to tell his men to free our people.”
Yoritaki snorted. “Hopefully he’ll say that, and not, ‘Kill the intruders! Turn the waters red with their blood!’”
“Escort him to the side, but don’t give him a chance to escape. Try not to be obvious about him being held hostage, it could complicate matters in the long-term.”
“Miracles are my specialty,” Yoritaki replied. He called for assistance, and the samurai bound the chief’s hands, behind his back, and trussed his feet as well. For good measure, they tied a long line between the feet and the mast, as a leash. Yoritaki and one of the sailors then inched the hobbled Indian forward, as a samurai with the drawn sword came behind, the point nuzzling the chief’s back.
The chief spoke, and Tokubei didn’t need to wait long to have a response. One of the rowers near the rear of the canoe rose, and worked his way forward. The other rowers didn’t make this easy for him; clearly, they suspected that the chief was acting under duress.
He reached the rope ladder, and called out, “domo arigato gozaimasu.” Japanese for, “I am really, really grateful.” He reached the deck, and prostrated himself before a bemused Tokubei.
“Rise,” Tokubei commanded. “What’s your name, and how many other Nihonjin are in this village?”
“I am Heishiro, and there are five more of us. My two sons, and three sailors.”
“You speak the native language?”
“Kwak’wala. Yes, of course; I’ve been here almost ten years. And it wasn’t as though the Kwakwaka’wakw were going to learn the language of a slave.”
“How did they treat you?”
Heishiro shrugged. “They rarely beat their slaves. But they don’t feed us well, we can’t earn our freedom by working, and we live in the most exposed parts of the village, where raiders would come first.”
“Tell the chief that he is our hostage, but we will free him after he has released to us, unharmed, the other five Nihonjin.” Heishiro translated this. The chief scowled.
“Your cargo? Was it valuable?”
“Not especially.”
“Say that we appreciate them taking care of you and in return they may keep the cargo that they already have.”
“What about us? Shouldn’t it go back to us?”
“You can stay here, and make your own bargain, if you wish. No? Then repeat my words. And tell him they are to be brought over in a single small canoe, without any armed men. And his other canoes had best stay out of the water.”
The chief’s scowl relaxed fractionally. He shouted orders down to his men, and the ceremonial canoe returned to the village. Perhaps an hour later, the Japanese paddled out in a small canoe, with just two of the Kwakwaka’wakw accompanying them.
The Japanese drifters came aboard, one by one, and the chief’s bonds were struck off. The chief rubbed his arms and legs, to work the circulation back into them, and in the meantime Tokubei dropped some presents in front of him.
“Tell him these are for him.” said Tokubei. And then he dropped the shot seagull carcass beside them. “And tell him that this bird is a reminder that we are beloved of the sky god, who gives us thunder to wield against our enemies.”
Heishiro spoke again to the chief, then addressed Tokubei. “I told him that you were the People of Tseiqami, the Thunderbird. Its wings cause thunder, and the flash of its eyes are the lightning. I said that you build ships—‘floating houses’—with its help; there are legends in which it carries big cedars for heroes who are building a house.”
The chief descended the rope ladder and got into the canoe. It headed backed to the village, his men paddling furiously.
“He looked impressed,” said Tokubei. “Keep it up, and you’ll be getting some presents yourself.”
Heishiro bowed slightly. “I hope it helps, but—” He stared down at his feet.
“But what?”