Like all of the slaves Tokubei had purchased from the Kwakwaka’wakw, the interpreter was a “she.” Generally speaking, when the Kwakwaka’wakw attacked an enemy village, they killed the mature males and carried off the prime females. The Japanese drifters were actually lucky to have been spared. Their good fortune was perhaps attributable to them being recognizably not of any known enemy tribe, so there were no grudges to work off. It also helped that it was more prestigious to own a slave who was plainly “exotic.”
Tokubei had held a big ceremony to free the slave interpreters and “adopt” them into his “tribe.” He said that he expected them to respect his authority and that of Haruno, and to translate and in general help out the crew.
The crew seemed very eager to help them learn Japanese.
This particular translator was of the Snuneymuxw, who lived near modern Nanaimo on Vancouver Island. Her name was “Yells-at-Bears,” and she proved to be equally effective at yelling at other Indians.
The Coast Salish made a peace sign, which Tokubei and his people mimicked. The two parties slowly sauntered toward each other, pausing now and then to scan their surroundings, until at last they were at a comfortable speaking distance.
The trio were of a different Coast Salish group, the Seshelt, and they were of the Kalpilin band, whose main village was near modern Pender Harbor. If the translations Tokubei was getting were accurate, the Seshelt, or at least the Kalpilin, did not live on Texada, but they hunted and fished there, mostly on the southern third of the island. This group had ventured farther north because they were keeping watch on that group of orca, for pretty much the reasons that Yells-at-Bears had suggested.
Yells-at-Bears was visibly pleased to meet these Coast Salish men from the other side of the Straits of Georgia—indeed, for a moment Tokubei was afraid she would abandon him—but they didn’t recognize the iron ore specimens they were shown. Did that mean that there was no iron ore on the island? Just that the local material didn’t look quite like these specimens, and therefore they thought they were something different? Or could there be some reason, religious perhaps, not to admit recognition? Tokubei had no idea.
Tokubei gave them some trifling gifts anyway, since he wanted to make a good impression, and signaled to the captain that they could continue on.
They couldn’t measure latitude with an accuracy of better than about seventeen miles, and Texada Island was about thirty miles long. But the Indians confirmed that the Japanese were on the west coast of a big island, and from its size and general location, they knew that it must be Texada. So far, it had been heavily wooded, with a steep coast.
They had gone three or four miles beyond Gillies Bay, which appeared to be a passable anchorage, when first one of the miners, and then several others, started shouting. Tokubei spoke to them, and soon thereafter, he was running for the captain.
The miners had seen a large red stain on a hillside. Tokubei and Haruno discussed the significance of this find with Iwakashu. The ship was already sailing close-hauled, so all that was needed to heave-to was brace just the squares on the main mast over to the opposite tack. The maneuver left the hull perpendicular to the wind, drifting slowly to leeward.
A boat was lowered, and Tokubei, three samurai, Iwakashu, one of the rescued drifters, and Yells-at-Bears rowed to shore. As the samurai watched for any threat, Iwakashu scrambled up to the outcrop. He took some samples, and gingerly made his way downslope.
* * *
Iwakashu, “singer-to-rocks,” was a mining engineer and prospector, and had once been a protégé of Okubo Iwami no Kami Nagayasu. Iwakashu had traveled all over Japan; mining engineers were permitted to cross all road barriers, provided they could pass an examination confirming their knowledge of ores. Iwakashu had even traveled to Hokkaido to look for gold dust in the rivers, but he had been stopped by orders of Lord Matsumae, who jealously guarded access to the land of the Ainu.
Nagayasu, a kirishitan actor who had overheard the shogun Tokugawa Ieyasu complain that he needed more gold, had told Ieyasu that he knew how the mines could be operated more efficiently and new mines discovered. He brought in Portuguese and Chinese experts, and succeeded in boosting gold production at Izu. Ieyasu was impressed, and gave him more authority. When Okubo died in 1613, he was the commissioner of mines, and the collector of taxes, in Sado and Omi.
Unfortunately, Okubo had promised his concubines a large inheritance upon his death, and his heir refused to pay. The concubines appealed, and Ieyasu ordered an audit. This revealed that Okubo had committed embezzlement on a massive scale. Moreover, the auditors discovered letters that showed that Okubo was engaged in a criminal conspiracy to overthrow Ieyasu with the aid of Christian soldiers. The letters implicated Date Masamune’s son-in-law, Matsudaira Tadateru, in the conspiracy. The daughter of Lord Matsudaira’s chief retainer was in fact married to one of Okubo’s sons, and Lord Matsudaira was suspected of Christian sympathies, so this seemed quite plausible to the shogun.