Ieyasu didn’t move at the time against Lord Matsudaira, a close relative, let alone the powerful Date Masamune. However, Okubo’s seven sons were executed and his fief confiscated, and Lord Matsudaira himself was placed under close surveillance.
Iwakashu had thought it wise to travel abroad for reasons of health, and Date Masamune had arranged for him to travel, under an assumed name, first to the Ryukyu Islands, and then to China. There he had studied Chinese mining technology, and had returned to Japan only after hearing of the death of Hidetada, Ieyasu’s son, in 1632.
So Iwakashu owed Date Masamune a great debt of gratitude.
A debt that the lord of Sendai called in when he was named grand governor of New Nippon.
And so it was that Iwakashu had found himself crossing the Pacific to distant Texada Island.
* * *
Even before Iwakashu actually clambered back onto the deck of the Ieyasu Maru, Tokubei knew from Iwakashu’s body language that his report would be favorable. But it would say nothing about copper or gold from Vancouver Island. What they had found was an uncommon mineral in Japan. An iron ore. He proved it when he returned to the ship, and held the ore close to the ship’s compass.
As the Ieyasu Maru sailed back to the Gillies Bay anchorage to spend the night, Tokubei thought about the implications of Iwakashu’s discovery, especially in the light of what Yells-at-Bears had told him. Texada was a perfect mining site. While the Indians visited it, there were no villages there. None that the Japanese had seen yet, at any rate. The island, at least in the northern part, was low in profile, so climbing would be minimal. Snow-capped Vancouver Island blocked the ocean winds from the west and southwest, and other islands defended Texada from the northwest wind. There were several good anchorages. The Seshelt had confirmed that it rarely snowed on Texada, and the fishing was decent. And, best of all, some of the ore was just lying loose for the taking. By the time Tokubei had finished these ruminations, it was dark.
Tokubei found the captain at the stern, eyeing the moon.
“The moon is carrying an umbrella,” said Captain Haruno. He meant that it had a halo, which usually presaged rain. “I’d like to get a move on tomorrow morning, if we’ve accomplished our mission here.”
“Well, we’ve found iron ore, and we can report that to the grand governor when we rendezvous with him at Monterey Bay,” said Tokubei, “but . . . wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could start a mining colony here and now?”
Captain Haruno frowned. “We were manned with exploration rather than colonization in mind. Iron ore is all well and good, but where are the farmers to feed the miners?”
Tokubei sighed. “But if we must wait until the Second Fleet comes to take the next step, it will be a long time before Texada is producing iron ore, neh?”
“I don’t know see how we have a choice, Tokubei-san.”
“Suppose we do this. We leave an exploration party, so that by the time the Second Fleet arrives they will be experts on this island, and its neighbors. The woman Yells-at-Bears speaks Kwakwala and Seshelt, as well as her own language. We leave one of Heishiro’s sailors with her, to translate between Kwakwala and Japanese. Plus a few miners and a couple of samurai. Isamu and Masaru, perhaps. Give them a longboat, fishing and mining gear, and trade goods. They can survey Texada in detail; look for more outcrops of ore, and find out where the land can be cultivated, where the fishing and hunting are good, and so forth.”
“And that way, when the Second Fleet ship comes, its colonists won’t have to start from scratch,” mused Haruno.
“Exactly.”
“The participation of Yells-at-Bears and at least one of the castaways is critical. Find out if they are agreeable. And then ask Heishiro, Yoritaki and Iwakashu what they think of the idea.”
* * *
Yells-at-Bears was more than agreeable. She had been resigned to the prospect of sailing away from her homeland, with the Japanese who had bought and freed her, but this was much better. She suggested that the Japanese could spend the winter with her own people. Or perhaps with her sister’s people; she had married a Seshelt.
Isamu was standing next to Yoritaki when Tokubei put the question to the samurai commander, and as soon as Yoritaki gave his assent, Isamu volunteered to lead the little Texada samurai contingent. This might have been out of eagerness to impress Yoritaki, but Tokubei suspected it had something to do with Yells-at-Bears’ involvement. They had been surreptitiously eyeing each other for several days now.
Heishiro’s crewmen were less enthusiastic—they wanted to be repatriated to Japan as quickly as possible—but Tokubei told them bluntly that they should expect to be in California for at least a year, until they had taught Kwak’wala, and any other native language they knew, to selected colonists. After they absorbed this bit of bad news, he assured them that they would undoubtedly be rewarded for each language they passed on. He then spoke to each of them privately, and eventually found the right lure to keep one of them on Texada.