Rezanov

  XI

  He did not talk with her again for several days. He called in state,but remained only a few moments. His officers went to several impromptudances at the Presidio and Mission, but he pleaded fatigue, natural inthe damaged state of his constitution, and left the ship only for agallop over the hills or down the coast with Luis Arguello.

  But he had never felt better. At the end of a week his pallor hadgone, his skin was tanned and fresh. Even his wretched crew weredifferent men. They were given much leave on shore, and already mightbe seen escorting the serving-women over the hills in the lateafternoon. Rezanov gave them a long rope, although he knew they mustbe germinating with a mutinous distaste of the Russian north; he keptstrict watch over them and would have given a deserter his due withoutan instant's pause.

  The estafette that had gone with Luis' letters to Monterey had takenone from Rezanov as well, asking permission to pay a visit of ceremonyto the Governor. Five days later the plenipotentiary received a politewelcome to California, and protest against another long journey; thehumble servant of the King of Spain would himself go to San Franciscoat once and offer the hospitality of California to the illustriousrepresentative of the Emperor of all the Russias.

  Rezanov was not only annoyed at the Governor's evident determinationthat he should see as little as possible of the insignificant militaryequipment of California, but at the delay to his own plans forexploration. He knew that Luis would dare take him upon no expeditioninto the heart of the country without the consent of the Governor, andhe began to doubt this consent would be given. But he was determinedto see the bay, at least, and he no sooner read the diplomatic epistlefrom Monterey than he decided to accomplish this part of his purposebefore the arrival of the Governor or Don Jose. He knew the materialhe had to deal with at the moment, but nothing of that already, nodoubt, on its way to the north.

  Early in the morning after the return of the courier he wrote aninformal note to Dona Ignacia, asking her to give him the honor ofentertaining her for a day on the Juno, and to bring all the youngpeople she would. As the weather was so fine, he hoped to see them intime for chocolate at nine o'clock. He knew that Luis, who waspressingly included in the invitation, had left at daybreak for hisfather's rancho, some thirty miles to the south.

  There was a flutter at the Presidio when the invitation of theChamberlain was made known. The compliment was not unexpected, butthere had been a lively speculation as to what form the Russian'sreturn of hospitality would take. Concha, whose tides had thunderedand ebbed many times since the night of her party, submerging the happyinconsequence of her sixteen years, but leaving her unshaken spiritwith wide clarified vision, felt young to-day from sheer reaction. Shewould listen to no protest from her prudent mother and smothered herwith kisses and a torrent of words.

  "But, my Conchita," gasped Dona Ignacia, "I have much to do. Thyfather and his excellency come in two days. And perhaps they would notapprove--before they are here!--to go on the foreign ship! If Luiswere not gone! Ay yi! Ay yi!"

  "We go, we go, madre mia! And his excellency will give you a shawl. Ifeel it! I know it! And if we go now we disobey no law. Have theyever said we could not visit a foreign ship when they were not here?We are light-headed, irresponsible women. And if they should not letus go! If the Governor and the Russian should disagree! Now we havethe opportunity for such a day as we never have had before. We shouldbe imbeciles. We go, madre mia, we go!"

  So it proved. At a few minutes before nine the Senora Arguello, cladin her best black skirt and jacket, a red shawl embroidered with yellowdraped over her bust with unconquerable grace, and a black rebosofolded about her fine proud head, rode down to the beach with Ana Paulaon the aquera behind and Gertrudis Rudisinda on her arm. The boyshowled on the corridor, but the good senora felt she could not tooliberally construe the kind invitation of a chamberlain of the RussianCourt.

  Behind her rode Concha, in white with a pink reboso; Rafaella Sal,Carolina Xime'no, Herminia Lopez, Delfina Rivera, the only other girlsat the Presidio old enough to grace such an occasion; Sturgis, whohappened to have spent the night at the Presidio, Gervasio, Santiagoand Lieutenant Rivera. Castro had returned to Monterey, Sal wasofficer of the day, and the other young men had sulkily declined to bethe guests of a man who looked as haughty as the Tsar himself andbetrayed no disposition to recognize in Spain the first nation ofEurope. But no one missed them. The girls, in their flowered muslinsand bright rebosos, the men in gay serapes and embroidered botas,looked a fine mass of color as they galloped down to the beach andlaughed and chattered as youth must on so glorious a morning. EvenSturgis, always careful to be as nearly one with these people as hisdifferent appearance and temperament would permit, wore clothes ofgreen linen, a ruffled shirt, deer-skin botas and sombrero.

  Three of the ship's canoes awaited the guests, and as not one of thewomen had ever set foot in a boat, there was a chorus of shrieks. DonaIgnacia murmured an audible prayer, and clutched Gertrudis Rudisinda toher breast.

  "Madre de Dios! The water! I cannot!" she muttered. But Santiagotook her firmly by one elbow, Sturgis by the other, Davidov caught upthe children with a reassuring laugh, and in a moment she was tremblingin the middle of the canoe. Concha had already leaped into the secondand waved a careless little salutation to the Juno. Her eyes sparkled.Her nostrils fluttered. She felt indifferent to everything but thecertain pleasure of the day. Rezanov was sure to be charming. Whatmattered the morrow, and possible nights of doubt, despair, hatred oflife and wondering self-contempt?

  Rezanov awaited the canoes in the prow of the ship. He wore undressuniform and a cap instead of the cocked hat of ceremony which hadexcited their awe. He too tingled with a sense of youthful gaiety andadventure. As he helped his guests up the side of the vessel andlistened to the delightful laughter of the girls, saw the dancing eyesof even the haughty and reserved Santiago, he also dismissed the morrowfrom his thoughts.

  As Dona Ignacia was hauled to the deck, uttering embarrassed apologiesfor bringing the two little girls, Rezanov protested that he adoredchildren, patted their heads and told off a young sailor to amuse them.

  Four tables on the deck were set with coffee, chocolate, Russian tea,and strange sweets that the cook had fashioned from ingredients towhich his skilful fingers had long been strangers.

  Dona Ignacia sat beside the host, and when she had tried both the teaand the coffee and had demanded the recipe of the sweets, he saidcasually: "After breakfast I shall ask you to go down to the cabin fora few moments. I bought the cargo with the Juno, and find there areseveral articles which I shall beg as a great favor to present to mykindest hostesses and the young girls she has been good enough to bringto my ship. Shawls and ells of cotton and all that sort of thing areof no use to a bachelor, and I hope you will rid me of some of them."

  Dona Ignacia lost all interest in the breakfast, and presently,murmuring an excuse, was escorted by Langsdorff down to the cabin.When the light repast was over, Rezanov made a signal to severalsailors who awaited commands, and they sprang to the anchor and sails.

  "We are going to have a cruise," announced the host to his guests."The bay is very smooth, there is a fine breeze, we shall neither bebecalmed nor otherwise the sport of inclement waters. I know that mostof you have never seen this beautiful bay and that you will enjoy itsscenery as much as I shall."

  He moved to Concha's side and dropped his voice. "This is for you,senorita," he said. "You want change, variety, and I have planned togive you all that I can in one day. I expect you to be happy."

  "I shall be," she said dryly, "if only in watching a diplomat get hisway. You will see every corner of our bay, and I shall have thedelightful sensation of doing something for which I cannot be heldresponsible."

  He laughed. "I am quite willing that you should understand me," hesaid. "But it is true that I thought as much of you as of myself."

  In a few moments the ship was under way. Santiago and Sturgis had go
nedown to the cabin to reassure Dona Ignacia, who uttered a loud cry asthe Juno gave a preliminary lurch. Gervasio and Rivera had openedtheir eyes as Rezanov abruptly unfolded his plan, but dropped themsleepily before the delight of the girls. After all, it was none oftheir affair, and what was a bay? If they requested him, as a point ofhonor, to refrain from examining the battery of Yerba Buena with hisglass, their consciences would be as light as their hearts.

  As Rezanov stood alone with Concha in the prow of the ship andalternately cast softened eyes on her intense, rapt face, and shrewdglances on the ramifications of the bay, he congratulated himself uponhis precipitate action and the collusion of nature. They were sailingeast, and would turn to the north in a moment. The mountain range bentabruptly at the entrance to the bay, encircling the immense sheet ofwater in a chain of every altitude and form: a long hard undulatingline against the bright blue sky; smooth and dimpled slopes as round ascones, bare but for the green of their grasses; lofty ridges taperingto hills in the curve at the north but with blue peaks multiplyingbeyond. There were dense forests in deep canyons on the mountainside,bare and jagged heights, the graceful sweep of valleys, promontoriesleaping out from the mainland like mammoth crocodiles guarding the bay.The view of the main waters was broken by the largest of the islands,but far away were the hills of the east and the soft blue peaks behind.And over all, hills and valley and canyon and mountain, was a brightopalescent mist. Green, pink, and other pale colors gleamed as behinda thin layer of crystal. Where the sun shone through a low white cloudupon a distant slope there might have been a great globe of iridescentglass illuminated within. The water was a light, soft, filmy yettranslucent blue. Concha gazed with parted lips.

  "I never knew before how wonderful it was," she murmured. "I have beentaught to believe that only the south is beautiful, and when we had tocome here again from Santa Barbara it was exile. But now I am glad Iwas born in the north."

  "I have watched the light on these hills and islands, and what I couldsee of the fine lines of the mountains ever since I came, and werethere but villas and castles, these waters would be far more beautifulthan the Lake of Como or the Bay of Naples. But I am glad to see treesagain. From our anchorage I had but a bare glimpse of two or three.They seem to hide from the western winds. Are they so strong, then?"

  "We have terrible winds, senor. I do not wonder the trees crouch tothe east. But I must tell you our names." She pointed to the largestof the islands, a great bare mass that looked as had it been, whenviscid, flung out in long folds from a central peak, concaving here andthere with its own weight. Its southern point was on a line with apoint of mainland far to the west, and its northern, from their vantagelooking to be but a continuation of the curve of the mainland, finishedan arc of almost perfect proportions, whose deep curve was a tumbledmass of hills and one great mountain. "That is Nuestra Senora de losAngeles, and it opens a triple jaw, Luis has told me, at PointTiburon--you will soon see the straits between. The big rock overthere is Alcatraz, and farther away still is Yerba Buena--that lookslike a camel on its knees."

  But Rezanov was examining the scene before him. The lines of this baywithin a bay were superb, and in its wide embrace, slanting from PointTiburon toward an inner point two miles opposite was another island, assteep as Alcatraz, but long and waving of outline, with a glimpse oftrees on its crest. Rezanov, while he lost nothing of the picturesquebeauty surrounding him, was more deeply interested in noting the manyfoundations, sheltered and solid, for fortifications that would holdthese rich lands against the fleets of the world. Never had he seen somany strategic advantages on one sheet of water. The islands farthersouth he had examined through his glass from the deck of the Juno untilhe knew every convolution they turned to the west.

  Concha was directing his attention to the tremendous angular peakrising above the tumbled hills. "That is Mount Tamalpais--the mountainof peace. It was named by the Indians, not by us. Sometimes it is likea great purple shadow, and at others the clouds fight about it like theghosts of big sea gulls." They were sailing past the rounded end of thewestern inner point of the little bay. It was almost detached from thebare ridge behind and half covered with oaks and willow trees. "Thatis Point Sausalito. I have often looked at it through the glass andlonged for a merienda in the deep shade." She turned to Rezanov withlips apart. "Could we not--oh, senor!--have our dinner on shore?"

  "It is only for you to select the spot. We can sail many miles beforeit is time for dinner, and you may find a place even more to yourliking. I fancy we can not go far here. It looks swampy and shallow.Nothing could be less romantic than to stick in the mud."

  "May I ask," said Concha demurely, "how you dare to run the risks of anunknown sheet of water? I have heard it said that there is more thanone rock and shoal in this bay."

  "I am not as rash as I may appear," replied Rezanov dryly, but smiling."In 1789 there was a chart of this bay, taken from a Spanish MSS.,published in London; and I bought it there when I ran up from theNadeshda--anchored at Falmouth--three years ago. Davidov, who, you mayobserve, is steering, oblivious to the charms of even Dona Carolina,knows every sounding by heart."

  "Oh!" Concha shrugged her shoulders. "The Governor, too, is veryclever. It will be a drawn battle. Perhaps I shall remain neutralafter all. It would be more amusing." The ship was turning, and shewaved her hand to the island between the deep arc of the hilly coast."I have heard so much of the beauty of that island," she said, "that Ihave called it La Bellissima, but I never hoped to see anything but theback of its head, from which the wind has blown all the hair. And nowI shall. How kind of you, senor!"

  "How easily you are made happy!" he said, with a sigh. "You look likea child."

  "To-day I shall be one; and you the kind fairy god-father," she added,with some malice. "How old are you, senor?"

  "Forty-two."

  "That is twenty-six years older than myself. But your excellency mightpass for thirty-five," she added politely. "We have all said it. Andnow that you are not so pale you will soon look younger--and even moretriumphant than when you came."

  "I have never felt so triumphant as on this morning, dear senorita. Ihad not hoped to give you so much pleasure."

  Her cheeks were as pink as her reboso, her great black eyes weredancing. Her hands strained at the railing. "I shall see LaBellissima! La Bellissima!" she cried.

  They rounded the low broken point of the island, sailed through theracing currents between the lower end of La Bellissima and "Our Lady ofthe Angels," more slowly past what looked to be a perpendicular forest.From water to crest the gulches and converging spurs of this hillsidein the sea were a dense mass of oaks, bays, underbrush; here and therea tall slender tree with a bark like red kid and a flirting polishedleaf, at which Concha clapped her hands as at sight of an old friendand called "El Madrono." It was a primeval bit of nature, but sweetand silent and peaceful; there was no suggestion either of gloom or ofdiscourteous beast.

  "We shall have our dinner here, Excellency. There on that little beach;and afterward we shall climb to the top. See, there are trails! TheIndians have been here."

  They stood out through the straits between Point Tiburon and the Isleof the Angels, where the tide ran fast. Then, for the first time, wasRezanov able to form a definite idea of the size and shape of thisgreat natural harbor. To the south it extended beyond the peninsula inan unbroken sheet for some forty English miles. Ten miles to the norththere was a gateway between the lower hills which Luis had alluded toas leading into the bay of Saint Pablo, another large body oftidewater, but inferior in depth and beauty to the Bay of San Francisco.

  The mist had dissolved. The greens were vivid where the sun shone onisland and hill. The woods of Bellissima, the groves of PointSausalito, the forests in the northern canyons, deepened to purple likethat of the great bare sweep of Tamalpais. Only the farther peaksremained a pale misty blue, and were of an indescribable floatingdelicacy.

  Concha pointed to the e
astern double cone. "That is Monte del Diablo.Once they say it spouted fire, but that was long ago, and all ourvolcanoes are dead. But perhaps not so long ago. The Indians tell thestrange story that their grandfathers remembered when this bay was avalley covered with oak trees, and the rivers of the north flowedthrough and emptied into Lake Merced and a rift by the Fort. Then camea tremendous earthquake and rent the mountains apart where you camethrough--we call it the Mouth of the Gulf of the Farallones--the valleysank, the sea flowed in, only these hills that are islands now keepingtheir heads above the flood. Perhaps it is true, for Drake was closeto this bay for a long while and never saw it, and it would have givenhim a better shelter than the little harbor he found a few miles higheron the coast. I believe it was not here. Madre de Dios, I hopeCalifornia shakes no more. She would--is it not true, Excellency?--bethe most perfect country in all the world did she not have the devil inher."

  "Are you afraid of earthquakes?" asked Rezanov, who once more hadtransferred his comprehensive gaze from battery sites to her face.

  "I cross myself. It is like feeling your grave turn over. But I fancythe poor old earth is like the people on her; she gets tired of beinggood and is all the naughtier for having been sober too long. DonVincente Rivera is an example; he is cold, haughty, solemn, stern toothers and himself, as you see him; but once in a while--Madre de Dios!The Presidio does not sleep for three nights!"

  Rezanov laughed heartily, then turned abruptly away. "Come," he said."I had almost forgotten. Will you ask the others to go to the cabin,while I give orders that dinner shall be served on your island?"

  In the cabin, Concha forgot him for a few moments. Her mother, hereyes dwelling fondly upon several shawls she hoped were intended forherself alone, was hushing the baby to sleep in the deep chair of hisexcellency. Ana Paula was playing with an Alaskan doll she hadappropriated without ceremony. Rezanov came in when his guests wereassembled, and he had a gift for each; curious objects of Alaskanworkmanship for the men, miniature totem poles and fur-borderedmoccasins; but silk and cotton, linen, shawls, and find handkerchiefsfor senora and maiden.

  "They are trifles," he said, in response to an enthusiastic chorus."The cargo I was obliged to take over was a very large one. You mustnot protest. I shall never miss these things." And he knew that hehad sown the seeds of a rapacity similar to that implanted in theworthy bosoms of the priests when they had paid him their promisedvisit. If the Governor were insensible to diplomacy he would havepressure brought to bear upon his official integrity from more quartersthan one.

  "There are also many of the presents rejected by the Mikado,somewhere," he added carelessly. "But I could not find them. Theymust have found their way to the bottom of the hold during one of thestorms we encountered on our way from Sitka."

  He certainly looked the fairy godfather, and quite impartial as hedistributed his offerings with a chosen word to each; his memory forlittle characteristics was as remarkable as for names and faces. He hadtaken off his cap on deck, and the breeze had ruffled his thick fairhair, brought the blood to his thin cheeks. The lines of his face, cutby privation and anxiety and illness, had almost disappeared with therenewed elasticity of the flesh, and his blue eyes were wide open, andsparkling in sympathy with the pleasure of his guests and the successof his own strategy. These few insignificant Spaniards dislodged, ahalf-dozen forts in this harbor, and the combined navies of the worldmight be defied; while a great chain of hungry settlements fattened andprospered exceedingly on the beneficence of the most fertile land inall the Americas.