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Seas of Fortune(149)



Kiyoshi and his crew came from the great gold and silver mine at Aikawa, on the western coast of Sado Island, which lay off the coast of the province of Echigo. The gold was discovered in 1601 by a local merchant. The miners of Aikiwa were accustomed to digging through andesite tuff with chisels and hammers, following the great Torigoye vein several hundred feet underground.

Confronted with the American River, meandering across its flood plain, they had not the slightest idea where to start looking for gold.

But having observed how Lord Matsudaira treated the captain, Kiyoshi was quite certain it would not be wise to admit this.





Monterey Bay





At Masamune’s request, several boats of fishermen had gone looking for sea otters. They found them, floating on their backs in the waters off Kodachi Machi/Santa Cruz, and also on the wild side of the Monterey Peninsula between Monterey and Carmel.

At first, the Japanese fishermen hunted the sea otters more or less the way they hunted dolphins back home; their boats spread out in an arc and drove them, with nets strung between the boats, toward the shore. This didn’t work quite as well with sea otters as it did with dolphins, because sea otters could run away on land. Hence, they found it was necessary to first set some men down on the beach, armed with spears and clubs, before starting the otter drive.

Only a few hunts were carried out, because the Japanese had no special fondness for otter meat, and they had no idea how well the furs would sell in China or Japan. Some sample furs would be sent back home, and, well, the Second Fleet would come in 1635 and tell the colonists whether to harvest more.

* * *

“Next,” said Inawashiro Yoshimichi. He took a moment to smooth out his formal kami-shimo.

One of the kirishitan waiting patiently in line came forward.

“Name?”

“Yamaguchi Takuma.”

“Can you write?”

“Yes, sir.”

Inawashiro handed him three sheets of mulberry bark paper, a brush, a pot of ink, and an ink-stone.

“Write your letters to home today, the ships are leaving this week. Tell your kirishitan relatives and acquaintances how wonderful it is to be a kirishitan in New Nippon. It is wonderful, neh?”

“Yes, but—”

“Next!”





November 1634,

Monterey Bay





Winter had come, and with it, increased fog and rain. The rains swelled the Salinas, and at last the river broke through the sand bar that had puzzled Masamune’s advisers, forming the southern mouth of the river. They knew from the encyclopedia entry on California that summers would be dry; they surmised that in the summer, the ocean would reform the sand bar.

They had asked First-to-Dance about the river, and she had told them “water come, water go.” At first, they thought that she meant that the river was a place of flowing water. But now, they feared that she meant that the river actually dried up during the summer. That didn’t happen in Japan, but the scholars knew that it was a problem in western China.

Orders were given for irrigation ditches to be dug, and streamlets dammed to catch the rain and hold it for future use.





Between modern Gilroy and Hollister





“I think that’s the river channel we want,” said Saburo.

“You said that the last two times, too,” said Jiro. “They were both dead ends.”

“Well, I have to be right sooner or later. If only I could see through the mountains, right to the sea.”

Jiro looked at Saburo. “The mountains, younger brother, are a manifestation of the Illusion we call the World. To see through it, you must—fuck!” Jiro had just tripped over Saburo’s outstretched foot.

“The foot, elder brother, is also Illusion,” Saburo said airily. “Perhaps we can pretend that the mountains are at least as real as my foot?”

* * *

Jiro and Saburo had gained some hope when the channel they were following joined another, larger one. Still, they had yet to see Monterey Bay. It was already late in the day, so they started to make camp.

“Jiro, wait, I think I saw a horseman crest that hill.”

“That’s preposterous—Hey, I saw him, too!”

“Indians?”

With the air of superiority that is genetically incorporated into older brothers, Jiro told Saburo, “The Indians don’t have horses.”

“So those must be Japanese! Fellow samurai!”

“Or Spanish,” Jiro cautioned.

But Saburo was already running forward, shouting and gesticulating.

Jiro ran after him.

The party of horsemen spotted them, and headed their way. It was soon apparent that they were, indeed, Japanese. When they came within hailing distance, Jiro and Saburo discovered that they were Date Masamune’s men, exploring the upper reaches of the Pajaro River. The Japanese settlement of Niji Masu/Watsonville was only a dozen miles away, downriver. Jiro and Saburo doubled up behind two of the riders, and the scouting party took them home.