The Legends of San Francisco | Page 5

George W. Caldwell
fearless,?Twins, and daughters of the Chieftain,?Came and stood before the wise men,?Came and bowed their heads and waited.
Well the wise men knew the sisters,?Maidens blooming into women,?Loved them for their grace and beauty,?For the joy they radiated,?For the charm that emanated?From their chaste and gentle spirits,?As the perfume that is wafted?From the rose buds newly opened.
Yet the Wise Men gave no welcome,?Turned their eyes from Maids to Chieftain.?"Why, my Daughters, have you ventured?Into this, the warrior's council??Well you know it is forbidden;?Neither man nor woman enters?When the warriors plan for battle."
"Let us speak," the Maidens answered,?"For we bring a warning message.?As we wandered on the ridges?Gathering the golden poppies?To adorn our Mother's tepee,?We were talking of the danger?From the foemen of the Northland,?When a Maiden stood before us,?Strangely fair, with golden tresses,?Eyes of deep blue like the lupins,?Dressed in garlands made of poppies.?Hand in hand we stood and wondered,?Till the lovely apparition?Smiled and caused our fears to vanish.?'I am the Spirit of the Country,'?Said the Maiden of the Poppies,?'And I choose you, my Twin Daughters,?For the beauty of your bodies,?And the worth of soul within you,?As the saviors of your people,?As the guardians of my harbor.?Take the message to your Chieftain,?That the foe comes from the Northland;?Yet they shall not harm your people?If you stand upon the hilltop?With the talisman I give you.?Take this Magic Iris with you,?Guard it well for every petal?Has a charm that brings an answer?To a prayer that is unselfish,?To a prayer for all the people?That will live around your harbor.?Never, while you guard the hilltop,?Shall a foe invade your country.?Petals three there are; three wishes?Shall be granted when you make them.'?Then the Poppy Maiden vanished,?And we hastened to our village.?Hand in hand, we ran so swiftly?That our feet but touched the flowers;?While above our heads the wild ducks?Flying southward clamored hoarsely,?'They are coming; They are coming!'?Sea gulls, winging from the ocean,?Shrieked their warning, 'They are coming!'?Then we dared to brave your Council?With the message of the Maiden,?And the warning of the seabirds.
'It is well,' the Chieftain answered,?'Daughters with the eyes of springtime?And the faces of the flowers,?It is well. The Gods have marked you?With their sign upon the forehead;?You have stood before a Goddess,?And her spirit is upon you.'
Long the Old Men sat and pondered.?Well they knew the ears of children?Are attuned to hear the voices?Of the Gods and Guardian Spirits.?Well they knew that all wild creatures?Speak to man if one is worthy?To receive their friendly warning;?Knew that seabirds, swift and cunning,?See the foemen while their war boats?Still are far beyond the sea-rim.?Thus they reasoned in their council,?Then they stood before the people?While the Chieftain gave his orders.
'Beat the war drums. Call the warriors.?Man the war canoes, and station?Sentinels upon the headlands?Up the coast-land to Bolinas.?Let them light the lurid war fires,?When they see the foemen coming.'
Swiftly northward raced the sentries?In their light canoes of deerskin -?Through the narrows to Bonita,?On the ocean to Bolinas.?All was tumult in the village;?To each warrior was given?Long bows, strong bows, wrapped with sinews,?Stores of arrows, eagle feathered,?Newly tipped with sharpest flint-heads;?Stone head war clubs, wrapped with rawhide;?Shields of oakwood, tough and heavy.?Women decked the braves with feathers,?Robes of fur, and charms of seashell;?Roused their courage with the stories?Of the prowess of their Fathers;?Cheered with songs of deeds of valor?Of the heroes of the Tamals;?While the children, heavy hearted,?Watched the scene in wide-eyed wonder.
Every day the Chieftain's daughters,?As twin sentinels were standing?On the hill between the valley?And the blue expanse of ocean.
Every day they watched the Morning?Reach his rosy fingers upward,?From behind the eastern mountains,?Painting with an elfin fancy,?Crimson edges on the cloudbanks;?Then erasing and repainting?Them with gold or mauve or amber;?Always changing, as his fancy?Swayed the child to blend the colors;?Till Old Father Sun uprising,?Drove his elfin son to shelter?From the dazzle of his presence.
All day long the faithful sisters?Stood upon the ridge and waited -?Waited while the Sun ascended,?Crossed the zenith, then descended?On his daily westward journey.?Watched him sink into the ocean?As a molten globe of metal;?While the fleecy clouds above him?Caught afire, and blazed in beauty,?Radiating flaming colors?Through the changing clouds, and lighting?O'er the purple sea a pathway?Glinting in a golden glory.
Evening came, and still they waited -?While the heavenly dome turned purple,?And the twinkling stars were lighted,?One by one, until the darkness?Scintillated with their sparkle;?And a milky way of star-dust?Arched across, to hold the heavens?High above the reach of mortals.
Through the night they watched and waited -?While the silver moon was racing?Through the silken clouds, and flooding?All the bay and hills and ocean?With a pale illumination,?Casting moving shadows earthward?When a dark cloud passed before her.?Wild Coyotes broke the silence?Of the midnight with their barking,?And the prowling Wolves crept nearer,?Till the patter of their footsteps?Could be heard in stealthy rushes.
Still the fearless Sisters waited,?Watched the north
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