California Woman (Daughters of the Whirlwind Book 1)

by Daniel Knapp

  "Where did you learn to speak English? Who taught you?"

  Solana smiled proudly. "The mission fathers and Miwokan. A small Spanish, also."

  Their unexpected facility with language absorbed Esther. During the next several days as she moved about the village, trailed at a distance by curious young children and peered at from huts by adults, her attention was further diverted from her own condition as huge chunks of misconception concerning all Indians fell away like portions of a cliff collapsing into the sea.

  Everywhere there were indications of cleverness and industry that belied white men's evaluation of Indians in general, and these western "diggers" in particular. They were called diggers, a derisive term, because the women customarily dug for tubers, roots, seeds, maggots, larvae, and snails to provide parts of the diet. Myopically, the white men thought that was the only work they did and the only food they ate regularly. Esther saw at once how stupid this supposition was. These people were different from what she knew of the Indians east of the Sierras. They hunted no particular source of food, and their weapons were less developed. But that was only a practical reflection of a wide variety of food sources and a basically unwarlike nature. They were inactive, indolent for long periods, but not all year long as white men believed. They simply worked at various activities when the state of nature and their environment indicated the most propitious time. Rather than enormous tribes, there were dozens of subtribes and extended family units that lived in harmony with the conditions of the small area where they had resided, as Solana put it, "forever." They took from nature only as much as they needed, and what they took they had long since developed simple but efficient ways to process, store, and use.

  Esther saw rows of woven broadgrass baskets filled with nuts, berries, seeds, acorns, acorn meal, and flour. Solana showed her the watertight baskets in which the yellow acorn meal, ground down with stone mortars, was leached of its toxic acids in water brought to a boil with heated stones. There were different types of baskets for hulling, pounding, leaching, and storage.

  After eating a piece of dried deer meat and a piece of bread made from finely ground acorn flour, Esther was shown a hut full of hides and furs, soon to be transported to Sutter's Fort and bartered. Solana pointed out another hut packed with enough cured meat to last through two winters. A third was lined with a variety of subtly woven weirs and nets for trapping fish. Walking toward yet another hut from which steam issued in an aromatic cloud, she noted that everyone was amply clothed. Save for a slight cautiousness with this new, unexplained, and disfigured woman who had strangely come down out of the deep snow, they were all friendly, happy, apparently at peace with themselves and the world. Now that she was used to seeing the mugwort leaves some of them wore in pierced ears and noses, she liked these people and what they represented.

  Beyond a large assembly house made of bark, duck feathers festooned the hut where the steam rose.

  "How beautiful," Esther said. "What is that smell?"

  Solana took her hand, smiling. "We are not allowed there. It is the sweathouse—for the warriors. They go there, they say, each day to cleanse themselves in... what is the word? steam... made from water and floating herbs. They also—." She stopped. "I will tell you that another time. For now, know that they also go there to be away from us. Especially the women who talk too much."

  Esther laughed. "It's the same the world over."

  "They pay a price," Solana laughed. "In winter they must rinse in the river or roll in the cold snow. Which is only fair."

  Esther laughed again. "And you. Where do you clean yourselves?"

  Solana frowned. "It is strange. The white believe we are filthy. We do not use the sweathouse, but we heat water, which carries the same herbs as that in the sweathouse. We have... what is your word? rags... which the men do not. In the summer we, too, wash in the river—when it is not so cold that our breasts would become stone."

  An atmosphere of balance, peace, and rightness enveloped the village. Briefly, it soothed Esther between her frequent periods of dizziness, sleep, and rest. She had not spoken of John Alexander, and Solana carefully avoided any explanation of the small, recently built, covered enclosure set off from the rest of the camp. The evening before Sutter returned, the men of the village began carrying logs and branches from neatly stacked rows of firewood behind the huts. In the center of a clearing adjacent to the new enclosure, they built a pyramidal structure seven feet high. Up one side, they set logs in the form of a stairway to the top, the apex of which was flat and surmounted by a small platform of thin, interwoven branches.

  That night Solana told Esther much about Miwokan. He was a chief, as his father, grandfather, great- and great-great grandfathers had been before him. He was related directly and by barter marriage to other chiefs. Their "nation" extended from the South Fork, north of which was Maidu territory, far to the south and deep into the Sierras in a wondrous, narrow valley of enormous waterfalls they called uzumati. As an adolescent, Miwokan had felt a need to outdo his rivals in the rituals of manhood, considered himself obliged to earn his preeminent position as well as inherit it. Alone in the woods, as was the custom, he chose not to kill a deer or an elk but singled out the ferocious animal even the Indians avoided at all costs. Digging a deep pit, covering it with thin, leafy branches, and then pretending to trifle with her young, he had enraged a female grizzly bear and provoked her to chase him. On one flank, Solana said, he bore the four broad scars of a swipe the bear had taken at him.

  "He fell, just before leaping over the pit, and she caught him. But then she fell and was trapped. He killed her with his spear."

  "How terrible!"

  "It is not terrible. It is our way."

  "But the cubs. The poor little cubs." She thought of John Alexander. "Did they die too, without their mother?"

  Solana smiled. "No, they did not die. The bears are much as we are. We do not often kill them because their footprint is so much like that of the people. They travel in tribes, small tribes, then go apart, then come together again. When a mother dies, always another, what is the word?"

  "Female."

  "Fe-male... another mother takes the place of that one who is dead."

  Esther felt a wave of grief. "And when a cub dies?"

  Solana quickly, wisely guided her away from the subject. "There is always a time for another cub." She pointed to the silver-tipped fur throw Esther was lying on. "Miwokan killed that male, is that what you call it?—that male you are on. Six summers later, when he was to be made chief."

  Esther looked at the fur of the grizzly and thought of Mosby. One day I will kill you, she thought. Somehow. Some way.

  Solana went on with Miwokan's history, and Esther was fascinated. His ancestors had worked for and been taught Spanish, agricultural arts, and music by the early missionaries. One of them had been an aide to Father Junipero Serra, who founded the mission chain that flourished from San Diego in the south to San Francisco Solano, just north of Yerba Buena. Miwokan's forebears had either passed down the teachings or seen to it that their descendants received schooling from the Franciscans until the missions were secularized and began decaying.

  Esther was becoming drowsy. Solana, purposely trying to distract her from the sounds of preparation coming from the clearing near the new, covered enclosure, smiled. Her drone, her stories of Miwokan and his antecedents, were working. Esther forced herself to stay awake one last time. Solana told her how she had been raised a Catholic near the Mission San Francisco Solano and had been named after the patron saint's home village in a place called Spain. She explained how she, of the Wappos, had come to be married to a Miwok. Miwokan had passed her village, and then the mission, on his way to trade furs for shells and other valuable objects with distantly related families of Miwoks who lived north of Yerba Buena, along the edge of the great waters to the west.

  Miwokan loved the statues in the missions, although he had discarded the religion of the white priests after becoming both chief
and bear shaman. When he entered the Mission San Francisco Solano, he saw Solana placing flowers on the altar. He immediately sought out the Wappo chief who was Solana's father. Solana fished in a pouch to show Esther the necklace of enormous, multicolored shells he had given her as a wedding present upon his return from the coast. Only after the Indian woman nostalgically watched the colors dance in the soft light from the small circle of glowing embers in the center of the hut did she realize that Esther had finally fallen asleep.

  Fifteen

  In the morning, on their first walk, Solana led Esther away from the village toward the river. Trailing, Esther stopped for a moment and wondered about the new, pyramidal structure. She noted that it was decorated with feathers, animals carved from wood, symbols painted on hides, and obviously human figures formed with pliant branches, stones, and tufts of fur. Other objects sat on the small platform as well, but she could not make them out. When Solana noticed her staring at it, she quickly eased her in the opposite direction and offered no explanation. Esther decided not to ask about it. She had the vague suspicion that it had something to do with her, but then she became absorbed in the beauty around her.

  Lying in the border area between the foothill and transition zones of the Sierra Nevada range, the forest around the village was a floral wonderland of birch, buckeye, laurel, maple, silver fir, cedar, an occasional sequoia, blue, black, and golden oaks, manzanita, and buckthorn, chaparral, spruce, and yellow pine. Hundreds of birds, the loudest of which were jays and woodpeckers, broke the silence of the snow-covered woodland. Squirrels peered around tree trunks at Esther and Solana as they drew nearer the muted sound of rushing water. Tracks of larger birds, rabbits, foxes, and raccoons crisscrossed the path to the river, and Esther, realizing her cabin was located just downstream, drank in what she knew by pure luck would be her own surroundings.

  She let out a gasp as they came to the riverbank and saw the waterfall. At a point where sheer stone cliffs rose as high as the evergreens and the riverbed dropped sharply for twenty feet, the ice was broken in a long, serrated edge. The purest water Esther had ever seen rushed out from under it, spilling in a perfect crystalline arc to an oval opening in the ice at the base of the fall, then disappeared again on its long journey to the ocean.

  Sutter was waiting for her when they returned to the village. Quantities of food simmered in kettles over an open, rectangular fire pit. A pair of freshly killed deer were being turned slowly over glowing logs by two of Miwokan's men. There was activity in each of the huts, but the village was much quieter than it had been during the last three days. It was obvious that they were preparing for something important to them. Esther guessed what it was but did not speak of it or show any sign that she knew. She ate a small quantity of food with Sutter, rested for two hours, then took another slow walk with him.

  "You have been here long enough to know if you will like living in these parts. Are you still certain this is what you want, Esther?"

  Again, the unaccustomed sound of the name set off a fleeting train of doubt about everything she was doing. She fought off the uncertainty and took a deep breath. "More than ever, I will be at peace here."

  "The cabin is ready for you. I have seen it, and it will do. I left some cooking utensils, a kettle or two, some silverware, and a few pieces of china."

  "I want to pay you for them."

  "There is no need to. They are not used at the fort. I seem to have acquired far more things than we need."

  She took his hand and held it for a moment, thanking him with her eyes.

  "I have also left a long rifle, a revolver, and ammunition. These you may borrow as long as you are here."

  "Why are you so kind to me?" she asked artlessly.

  Sutter found himself unexpectedly flustered. He cleared his throat and finally, not looking at her, said: "I have... adopted you—unofficially—as a niece." Somehow, that relationship, even in "adoptive" terms, seemed to him less potentially incestuous than "daughter." The notion that Esther might possibly take a liking to him when she recovered, when she was herself again, was only a vague, fading hope now. He didn't even think about it for more than a second or two at a time. Still, Sutter was not a man to cut off any possibility if he could avoid it.

  They walked a little farther before turning back. "Do you think you are ready? Or do you need a little more time here?"

  "No," she said. "I am ready." She turned and looked him straight in the eye. "Ready for the cabin—and ready for what will take place here before I leave."

  "You have understood what they have been building?"

  "Not all of it. But I know it has to do with John Alexander."

  Sutter sighed. "Yes. It is time."

  "I know it is. I feel it, even though I also dread it. In whatever way is their custom. You see, they are the only people I feel even remotely close to now—besides you."

  After she slept again, Sutter waited until Solana dressed and then guided her to the clearing where Miwokan and the rest were waiting. There were two circles, the men in the forefront and the women behind them. Clustered in groups at the edge of the woods, the children watched wide-eyed and silent. The men were painted. Stripes, sworls, and dots of vegetable dye covered their faces and bodies. Both men and women wore pungent mugwort leaves in their ears. Despite the cold they were all barefoot. The men had on only breechcloths. All but Miwokan, whose shoulders were draped with the skin of a bear.

  Sutter steadied her as they walked to the foot of the small pyramid, where Miwokan stood waiting. It was close to sunset, and the dark shadows of the trees blanketed the clearing. No one spoke or made a sound as Sutter and Esther took their places behind Miwokan.

  From the far end of the village Esther heard the fire shaman cry out a wailing, mournful succession of notes. The two circles immediately followed the sound with a continuous, low, sadly melodic contrapuntal chant. Solana joined the fire shaman when he reached the edge of the circle and came through it, cradling a small rabbit-skin pouch in his arms. He gave it to Solana, and she moved slowly forward. The rain and snake shamans came forward, and the pouch was passed to them, hand to hand, then back to Solana, and finally to Miwokan. He turned and offered it to Esther. The contrasting feel of the soft fur and the rigid little body inside made Esther dizzy for a moment, but she bit hard on the end of her tongue and recovered. Sutter gestured for her to carry it up to the platform. She turned, and both Sutter and Miwokan supported her elbows as she climbed the crude steps.

  On the high platform she saw a wooden eating bowl filled with acorn meal, thatched green perennial leaves cupping portions of dried meat, and a deep shell filled with water. A mat of dry grass-fibers lay centered on it. Esther turned to Miwokan, and he nodded. She lay the rabbit-skin pouch down on the mat and stared at it. Miwokan touched her arm, and she turned to him again. He was holding a small, painstakingly carved spear no longer than the rabbit skin itself. He gave it to her, nodded, and she placed it beside her son.

  At the base of the pyre, Solana waited for them with a long knife. She embraced Esther and gently, unthreateningly, began to tilt her head down. Sutter held out an arm and shook his head, but Esther silently put her fingers to his lips for a few seconds and then, submitting to Solana, bent down and let her hair fall forward until it touched the ground. Strand by strand, Solana gathered and cut it off to a length of two inches at a point near the base of Esther's skull. When she was finished, she lifted Esther's face and kissed both her cheeks.

  The fire shaman brought two torches. Miwokan looked to the west and waited until the sun was just a sliver of pale orange behind the line of hills. He passed a torch to Esther and pointed to each corner of the structure. Slowly, she circled the pyre with Sutter at her side, dipping the torch and lighting small clusters of twigs. When she was finished, Miwokan held both torches toward the sunset and then threw them through a small opening into the center of the pyre. Taking Esther's hand, he turned and led her toward the concentric circles. They expanded, the me
n and women retreating gradually as the fire snapped and took hold. She rocked backward once, as they stood watching the flames leap and then rush upward, but Sutter caught her and kept his arm around her waist. She started to swoon again. But then she purposely thought of Mosby's part in this, and her hatred for him steeled her and stopped the scene from spinning before her eyes. Within minutes the pyre was an enormous torch pointing toward the sky, consuming the platform and its contents. John Alexander Todd had been laid to rest. And with him the last reminder of a life turned to ashes. From this moment, too, Elizabeth Purdy Todd ceased to exist, she thought. A tower of white smoke rose straight toward the first visible stars, then drifted westward on the downwind toward the sun beyond the hills. Yes, let that life, and Elizabeth Purdy Todd, drift away with the smoke, she said to herself, tears brimming as she thought of Alex. She forced herself not to cry, to put it behind her. From this instant there is only Esther Cable... Esther... Cable...

  She remembered little of the abandoned dancing, the singing, the music played on crude flutes, whistles, rattles, and foot drums. Sutter had given her a large dollop of the first spirits she had ever tasted. It burned her throat going down, but it lent a warmth to the numbness that mercifully took hold of her as she watched the pyre collapse in a shower of sparks and smoke. She asked for more, then drank a third time. She stayed with them around the village fires for some time, chewed feebly on bits of venison and squirrel meat passed to her, but she was already nearly asleep. When she finally passed out, Sutter carried her to Miwokan's hut, covered her, and waited a few minutes to be sure the noise would not arouse her. As he walked back to the ritual feast and rejoicing for the child's journey to the sky, he marveled at Esther's courage and endurance. It was no wonder she had managed to walk down out of the mountains alone.