The Legends of San Francisco | Page 7

upon the bayshore,?Fishing in the harbor waters?From their light canoes of redwood -?Fishing boldly in defiance?Of the Sea King's fitful anger?At the raiding of his Kingdom?And the slaughter of his subjects.
Oft the Sea King, in reprisal,?Lashed the harbor with his west wind?Till the breakers leaped in frenzy,?Overturning boats and claiming?Many fishermen as victims.
Those who clung in desperation?To their boats and reached the mainland?Told the tale of their encounter?With the Sea King in the tempest.?Through the smother of the surges,?Through the driving rain and fog-banks,?Came the Sea King's boat upon them,?Drawn by floundering sea horses?With their manes of seafoam curling?From the prow and backward trailing.?Through the mist they saw it faintly,?As a ghostly apparition,?Riding down upon the billows -?Phantom ship, at times transparent,?White or gray - to ride them over;?Racing nearer, nearer, nearer,?Then dissolving into vapor;?Or, at times, it darted past them.?Giving glimpses through the fog-banks?Of the Furies at the paddles,?Bending, dipping, throwing surges?From their mighty magic paddles,?While the wake of foaming waters?Seethed and boiled in whirlpool currents.
Long the warfare had continued.?Fishermen must live by fishing,?And the Sea King claimed his victims?Through a strategy of cunning,?Seeking ever to beguile them?To the sea to work his vengeance.
When day dawned in rosy splendor?Calm and still the harbor waters?As a sea of purple satin,?Only wrinkled into ruffles,?Ever widening in a circle?Where the fishes leaped the surface.
Fishermen with song and laughter,?Waved farewell to wives and children,?Paddled off into the silence;?Then, without a sign of warning,?Gales arose and lashed the harbor?Till the waters writhed and tumbled,?Wave on wave, in thundering tumult;?And the Sea King, in his anger,?Dashed the boats, o'erturned and empty,?High upon the rocky seashore?At the feet of wailing women.
Queen Ah-we-a of the Fishers?Mourned the sorrows of her people;?Comforted the weeping widows;?Cared for all the little orphans.?Little wonder that her subjects?Loved the gentle Queen Ah-we-a.
Long the Queen in silence pondered?On the perils of her people.?Long she stood upon the headland?Where the wind-distorted cedars?Cling upon the rocky hillside.?Long she prayed to the Great Spirit?For his guidance and protection.?Long she prayed and watched and waited?Till the moon came up and silvered?All the sea, and cast the shadows?Of the cedars, weird and lonely.
From the harbor came the night winds?Robed in tinsel veils of vapors,?And they whispered in the branches?Of the cedar trees above her -?Whispered of the King, their master,?Whispered terms for ceasing warfare.
Ah-we-a heard the hard conditions,?Bowed her head as in submission.?On her face the resolution?For a sacrifice was graven -?For a sacrifice so noble?That the Spirit in the Heavens?Smiled and promised, in her absence,?To protect her Fisher people.
Morning dawned, with vapors brooding?On the silent glassy waters.?Queen Ah-we-a called her people?To the sandy shore, and standing?In her light canoe of deer skin,?Told them of her nightlong vigil.?'Now I go,' she said in parting,?'To the great boat of the Sea King,?There to plead that storms be banished,?Banished from our bay forever.?The Great Spirit will protect you?Till I come again to lead you.'?Then her paddle dipped the water,?And her light canoe of deer skin?Went into the fog and faded,?Faded to a shadow outline,?Then was gone into the silence.
Long and watchfully the people?Waited for the Queen Ah-we-a.?Then a great fear came upon them.?'She is lost. The wicked Sea King?Holds her hostage on his war boat.'
Thus they mourned, and prayed the Father,?The Great Spirit, that he give them?Wings to fly above the waters?Where the Sea King could not reach them.?'Give us wings,' they prayed 'On pinions?Would we fly to find Ah-we-a.?Change us, Father, into sea birds.?Let us search and find Ah-we-a,?And at last, when we have found her,?Change us back to Fisher People.
In the flicker of an eyelid,?All the fisher men and women?And their children changed to Sea Gulls.?And the Father, ever mindful?Of his promise to Ah-we-a,?Put into the hearts of mortals?Universal love for Sea Gulls.?Laws have even been enacted?To protect them from the hunters.
To this day the faithful Sea Gulls?Search the Bay, now free from tempests;?Search the ferry boats and steamers,?Soaring by on spreading pinions,?Peering into people's faces,?Searching for their Queen Ah-we-a.?Winging, swinging, darting, calling?In their plaintive tones, 'Ah-we-a;'?For they know that when they find her?They will change to human beings,?Subjects of the Queen Ah-we-a.
Thus was told the ancient legend?Of Ah-we-a and the Sea Gulls.
The Islands of the Bay.
Tamalpais wrapped her mantle?Of the clouds about her shoulders.?Gray the day, and melancholy,?For December rains were falling,?Falling in a steady downpour.?Mournful branches of the redwoods,?Drooping, dripping, swayed above us;?Moaned above the lonely cabin?On the slope of Tamalpais.?Raindrops pattered on the shingles,?Beat against the eastern windows,?Flooding down the glass in torrents.
Through the veil of slanting rainfall.?Could be seen the distant harbor,?With its flecks of fleecy vapors?Floating, merging, disappearing.
In the fireplace of the cabin,?Logs and knots of pine were blazing,?Snapping with the pitch imprisoned;?Flocks of sparks were flying upward;?Flags of flame were waving welcome,?Warming, cheering, exorcising?Ghosts of Gloom and eerie phantoms;?Bringing brightness and the