Hikobei waited. The grizzly stopped for a moment, pawing in irritation at the shafts of the arrows still stuck in it, trying to dislodge them.
A third round of arrows flew through the air. One was an Indian arrow; White Cloud had turned to help his unexpected allies. Both the Japanese and Indian arrows just annoyed the beast, but its reaction bought time for the gunmen.
Hikobei still waited. The grizzly came forward, but more slowly. Twenty yards. Fifteen. Ten.
And then Hikobei fired, his shot striking the grizzly in the forehead, a bit below between the eyes. It dropped.
Gorosaku put another ball into it, for good luck.
* * *
White Cloud walked slowly toward Hikobei, hands raised. The Japanese hunters allowed this, but they kept their hands near their knife hilts, just in case.
White Cloud stood within hand’s reach of Hikobei; the Indian was a head taller. “Greetings, ‘Little Giant.’ Thank you for saving me from the bear.”
This was mostly lost on Hikobei at the time, he didn’t know the language of what scholars would call the Obispeno Chumash. But he could guess that White Cloud was happy not to be in a grizzly’s tummy, and Hikobei bowed.
White Cloud presented him with a little deer bone whistle.
Hikobei studied it, then gave it a tentative blow. White Cloud smiled again.
In the meantime, several of the Japanese had rigged up a branch so that they could carry the bear carcass back to the eta-mura.
“Let’s get this food back to the village,” said Gorasaku. “Those deer are thoroughly spooked, there’s no point in hunting them right now.”
Hikobei nodded, and motioned for White Cloud to follow them. Hesitantly, he did so.
* * *
The Japanese eta village stood on Estero Bluffs. Indians had once lived there; the Japanese had found their grinding holes. The Japanese had known that there was still an Indian village on the far side of Morro Bay, but had carefully avoided it. And as far as they knew, the Indians had avoided them, too.
One of First-to-Dance’s tribesmen, Talks-While-Walking, had been assigned to the eta to serve as their translator in dealings with other Indians. All of the Japanese settlements now had such translators, personally selected by First-to-Dance. The gifts given to these translators, while modest by Japanese standards, were of great value to the Indians. This, of course, created obligations on their part to First-to-Dance, their patroness.
This was Talks-While-Walking’s first opportunity to translate since they left the Monterey Bay area, and he addressed White Cloud with great formality.
Unfortunately, White Cloud had no idea what Talks-While-Walking was saying. And vice versa. The Ohlone language was of the Penutian language family, while Northern Chumash was Hokan. However, White Cloud could tell, from the other Indian’s body language, that he was receiving a polite greeting. That was good enough. It was hard for him to give Talks-While-Walking his full attention, anyway, when the exotic Japanese were around.
White Cloud was given a tour of the village, the Japanese goods were even stranger than the Japanese themselves. Finally, he worked up the courage to ask, by gesture, whether he could touch Hikobei’s arquebus. Hikobei held it out, two handed, for White Cloud to inspect. White Cloud reached out a finger, and held it just above the barrel, as if it were a cooking pot and he wanted to make sure it wasn’t too hot to touch. At last, he touched it, and ran his finger lightly down to the muzzle. “Boom!” he said.
That didn’t require translation.
Neither did White Cloud’s smile.
* * *
On the beach near the Japanese village, White Cloud pointed first to himself, and then across Morro Bay.
“He says that he is from the other side,” Talks-While-Walking explained.
White Cloud pointed at Hikobei and Gorasaku, then, with three fingers, toward the Sun.
“In three days, come visit him at his village.”
* * *
There was, of course, much discussion of the matter. Should Hikobei and Gorasaku go? Should they be accompanied by others, besides of course Talks-While-Walking? Should they go by land or by sea? And most important, should they bring firearms?
The firearms, of course, might create awe, causing the locals to treat the Japanese with great respect, even subservience. Or they might excite the Indians’ greed, enough so the Indians would be willing to steal, even kill, to acquire them.
Danzaemon finally decided that Hikobei and Gorasaku, and their translator, would go by boat, without the arquebuses. However, they would take with them the bear’s claws and teeth, to serve as both presents and as reminders of the fighting prowess of the Japanese.
* * *
Hikobei and Gorasaku beached their rowboat on what a modern Californian would call Morro Strand State Beach. As they pulled the boat up to high ground, a peregrine falcon screeched at them, then sped toward its nest on nearby Morro Rock.