Seas of Fortune(148)

In turn, Chiyo and Mika watched First-to-Dance. They discovered that she was perfectly happy to eat not only the fish caught by the Japanese fishermen, but also grasshoppers, caterpillars, and lizards. Frogs and toads, she ignored.

First-to-Dance collected acorns, too, knocking them from the limbs of the oaks that grew here and there, and putting them in the bag Chiyo had given her. She gave them to Chiyo, who had absolutely no idea what to do with them. Even after First-to-Dance engaged in an elaborate pantomime.

It was Mika, Chiyo’s maid, who discovered the answer. She had, apparently, found that stories about the Indian woman were in great demand among the Japanese. One night, she described First-to-Dance’s antics to a family that came from the Goto Islands.

“Acorns? I love acorns,” said the mother. “We ground them up and put them in a pot, and boiled them until the water turned brown. Then we threw out the brown water and did it again and again, until the water was clear.” That was done, she explained, to remove whatever gave raw acorns a bitter taste.

“Oh! That’s what First-to-Dance was doing! Or something like it, at least.” The word was spread and the Japanese colonists began gathering acorns in earnest. Fortunately, the acorn crop was bountiful in 1634.





Sacramento River Valley





Lord Matsudaira’s party turned onto the Feather River, hoping that it was the American. The water level, at least, was much greater, a better fit for Matsudaira’s preconception of what the American River should look like. Shigehisa had his doubts, however. The map showed the American meeting the Sacramento River from the east, whereas this tributary came in from the north. When Shigehisa pointed this out to Lord Matsudaira, he dismissed it abruptly.

“So? I wouldn’t expect the map to show every little twist and turn. It will turn east eventually.”

But days passed, and by Shigehisa’s reckoning, they were still heading north as they progressed slowly upriver. It wasn’t until they reached the confluence of the Feather and the Yuba that Shigehisa decided that he had to speak up again. By his recollection, the up-time map hadn’t shown any significant branching of the American until above Folsom Lake.

“Lord Matsudaira, may I please see the American map again?”

The map was a copy, of course, of the one in the American encyclopedia, but the Japanese artist who prepared it had duplicated every stroke. A short line was drawn, perpendicular to the river, immediately below “Folsom Lake.” This, according to the map’s translator, was a seki: a dam.

The Japanese had dug ditches and dammed rivers for irrigation purposes for centuries, perhaps millenia. Neither Matsudaira nor the shogunate officials who had sent him had thought to question the presence of a dam, in California. Even the red-haired barbarians, the Dutch, had said they had dams, after all, so why not the California Indians?

But the Japanese had seen no trace of native agriculture. And if there was no agriculture, there would be no need for irrigation . . . or for dams. Shigehisa hurriedly explained his reasoning to Lord Matsudaira.

Lord Matsudaira tried to stand, lost his balance, and nearly fell out of the boat. When he regained his seating, and his dignity, he stated the logical implication: “And so the lake doesn’t exist either. We were on the American River after all, and we didn’t realize it!”

His expression changed from thunderous to uncertain. “But wait. What about the water level for Sutter’s sawmill?”

Shigehisa shrugged. “Perhaps it is still the dry season for this region.”

“All right. First thing tomorrow morning, we head back downstream. At least it should be easier paddling back down the Sacramento than paddling up.”





Lower American River





What wasn’t easier than before was paddling up the American River; the water levels were still low. Only the seagulls, walking along the edges of the gravel bars, were happy; the salmon had spawned and lay dying, practically at their feet.

Lord Matsudaira looked like he had swallowed something unpleasant, but was too polite to spit it out. “Shigehisa! What is your advice?”

“Let’s leave the boats under guard here, and escort the miners upstream until they find the gold. When the water level rises we can bring up the boats.”

Lord Matsudaira agreed, and assigned Shigehisa to command the boat guard—the captain, the first mate, the sailors, and another samurai. Lord Matsudaira and the remaining four samurai left with the miners the next day.

* * *

Kiyoshi, the foreman of Lord Matsudaira’s miners, wondered once again what horrible crime he could have committed in his last incarnation in order to find himself on the American River, looking for gold.