Richmond High School - Shield Yearbook (Richmond, CA)

Page 32 text:

RICHMOND RODEO would the waters of th e flood shrink and dry away, and at last would the sun set in fire, and all be fair weather. When the priest ceased speaking the chief addressed the council. The medicine man had spoken well. They must ap- pease the Great Spirit with the captive’s life. But was it wise council to disregard the beautiful weapons of the paleface? Why could they not beguile the others from the ship, obtain the treasures, and then burn the captive’s comrades also, and thus the more delight the Great Spirit? When the chief sat down a gutteral grunt of approval ran around the dying fire. The medicine man sprang to his feet. They must not be tempted by the evil gifts. They could not beguile the men from the ship. If they tried, utter destruction of the village was inevitable. As the medicine man finished, a sudden gust of wind extin- guished the fire and scattered the embers. All attempts of the squaws to rekindle it were vain, for the driftwood was soggy and refused to burn even after the precious oil poured on it had been consumed. At length the attempt was abandoned. The brewing storm threatened to break every moment. Pale lightning flickered over the lake, but as yet the thunder was too distant to be heard. The wind rushed dismally around the flimsy huts. Not a star shone in the blackness. But soon torches flared in the huts, and there was a babel of voices. Half-starved camp dogs prowled among the huts, snarling over each precious scrap of refuse. Keewah was roused from his reverie by the entrance of an Indian, and ordered to the hut where the captive lay. When he had joined the group of hunters around the captive, Kee- wah was bidden to repeat to him in the paleface tongue what they said. They would lead the captive to the shore. There he must call to the men in the ship, and when they had come ashore, tell them the chief had considered their proposition, and was now ready to trade them provisions. All this Keewah repeated to the captive, who listened in silence, with but slight 24

Page 31 text:

RICHMOND RODEO sent a shower of whistling arrows at them, which fell with harmless splashes into the water. Among the Indians was one who had understood the white man, but he had not dared to speak. He was a captive, and like the squaws, had no voice in council. His name was Kee- wah, and his people lived far to the northward. He had grown up on the banks of a northern river. There one summer even- ing a white man wandered out of the gloomy forest, delirious with fever. Keewah took him into his tepee and nursed him back to health, learning his language in the meantime. When the white man regained his strength, Keewah guided him on his southward journey. After many days’ travel their evening camp was raided by a band of Indians who carried Keewah to the village where he was held captive, the white man, how- ever, escaping. And now Keewah sat alone in his hut, with no squaw to relieve his lonesomeness, while in the other huts the talkative squaws discussed the wonderful trinkets, the ship, and the flood, and outside in a solemn circle the old men sat around the struggling council fire and the medicine man wildly harangued them. The Great Spirit was angry, he told them. He had sent the flood. He steadfastly withheld the sign of fair weather. He had driven away the game. He had sent the Spirit Ship out of the mist with the palefaces to tempt them with evil gifts. They must not heed the gifts, nor welcome the palefaces to their tepees, for beyond the sea they dwelt in countless numbers. If the redmen should admit them surely the Great Spirit would no longer keep them out. The lake would tear down its barrier and open a gateway for them in from the sea. They had cap- tured this paleface. They must now sacrifice him over the council fire, to show the Great Spirit that they would keep the palefaces from their land with a steady hand. And even as the captive’s flesh shriveled in the fire and his blood dried wp, so 23

Page 33 text:

RICHMOND RODEO hope of rescue. They unbound the feet of the captive, who stooped out of the door of the hut and walked silently down to the shore. The storm was drawing closer. The lightning flashed more fiercely, and the thunder rolled nearer at every flash. When the men came to the beach the white man gave a loud hail, which carried out over the surf. A lantern twinkled on the ship, moved along the deck, and came to a halt. The captive hailed again, telling them to come ashore. The light twinkled, there was a creaking of tackle, and very soon the click and splash of oars was heard. The men in the ship evidently thought their comrade had escaped from his captors, and they were coming to take him off to the ship. When near shore the sound of rowing ceased, and from the boat came the demand, ‘‘Who’s there?’’ The captive called back telling them not to come too close, that the Indians held him, but to return to the ship at once and bring gifts to ransom him, and that the Indians had promised them stores. A voice from the boat assented and the rowing began again, while Keewah repeated what had been said to the other Indians. They stood waiting for the boat to return just where the overflow from the lake emptied into the sea, in the trough of the pass. With a sudden crash of thunder and gust of wind the storm broke upon them. The rain came in dashing sheets with each gust of wind, as if flung from some great basin in heaven. The lightning glared so close it seemed to fill the air. The watchers abandoned their purpose and started back to the village. They could scarcely stand in the fury of the storm. The thunder was one continuous, booming roar. Captive and captors made all possible haste, now seeing their way by the glare of the lightning, now blinded by the dashing rain. Suddenly a cry broke from those in front. They turned and rushed back towards the sea in reckless fear, knock- ing over those in the rear. But flight was useless. The first great wave of the cloudburst, bearing the drifting ruins of Fe