Their Mariposa Legend | Page 6

then, thus to throw away, and that without
permission, his choicest property on a mere savage? Hot with
resentment he was about to interfere; but before he could obey the rash
impulse his better judgment prevailed, and just in time he remembered
how, on several other such occasions, his very life had been saved by
some swift expedient of Drake's and his tact in handling the natives.
Slowly Sir Francis continued, and now one watching intently might
have sensed from the gleam in his eyes that he had reached the real
point in the interview.
"One question, nevertheless, would I ask of all-wise Torquam before
we part." He hesitated, searching the impassive face of the Indian.
"Can'st tell me of a Spaniard, one Cabrillo, son to that arch pirate of
Spain, who, since his father's death, still sails upon these waters? To
him I bear a message," - again he paused while the heart of Wildenai
beat in sudden panic beneath her fawnskin tunic; but Torquam's face
remained blank as a page unwritten, - "a message from our queen,"
added Drake. The last words were uttered with significance.
The Indian slowly shook his head.
"The noble white chief asks what is unknown to any man," he answered.

"The young Cabrillo once landed, 'tis true, on Punagwandah. Many
moons ago it was. Where he is now, how should Torquam know?"
In his bitter disappointment the hand of the Englishman sought the hilt
of his sword. Instantly a ring of warriors closed darkly about the chief.
Drake laughed.
"Nay then, 'tis but by chance I asked thee, thinking thou mightst tell me.
It matters not. The gift I promised thee will come, as I said, tonight."
He turned to go and young Harold rose to follow. Then, perceiving the
dark eyes of the princess fixed wistfully upon him, he hesitated and,
obeying a sudden impulse, he stepped hastily to her side.
"When they return with the gift for thy father," he whispered, "I will
come with them," he smiled into her soft eyes shining with pleased
surprise, "and I will bring a gift to thee as well, oh Wildenai, fairest of
maidens!"
Drake gave a sharp command. His followers sprang to their feet, and
without further ceremony the party passed quickly down the beach to
their boat.
But the princess Wildenai did not leave the feasting ground. Hidden by
deepening shadows she watched the ship's lights glimmer across the
water. Glad indeed was she of the darkness, for a warm flush glowed in
her cheeks and her heart throbbed with a strange new pleasure, a
pleasure bordering close on fear, yet wholly sweet.
But when, at length, the quiet of sleep had descended upon the village,
once again she sought her father. He, too, within the open doorway of
his lodge, watched intently the distant ship. Without surprise he saw his
daughter enter and, as she knelt upon the blanket beside him, he
stretched a hand and drew her close.
"It grows cold. The wind is rising. 'Twere best to wait inside." He
spoke in the musical Indian tongue. For a moment he stroked her hair

in silence, then -
"What think'st thou by now of the English, Wildenai, my little wild
rose?" he asked.
But the princess seemed not to have heard his question.
"My father," she began after another short silence, "I have a favor to
ask of thee."
"And what may that be, my daughter?" he returned gravely.
But again the young girl made no answer and for many minutes they
watched the tremulous paths of light in the wake of the vessel.
After a time he felt her hand tighten upon his arm.
"It is but the old boon over again, my father." Her voice was low as the
sighing of the wind among the oak trees. "I would be freed from my
promise to wed with Don Cabrillo."
An Indian is not given to caresses. Much more used was Torquam's
hand to wield the war-club or the hatchet. Yet it was with fingers gentle
as any woman's that he stroked the smooth black head at his knee.
"Doubtest thou then, my motherless one, the judgment of him who
loves thee?" he asked.
"I doubt it not, my father," answered his daughter. "Yet would I not
wed with the Spaniard," she added stubbornly.
"The blue-eyed senor from England" - there was a hint of humor in his
tone, - "he it is who steals thy fancy! Is it not so, my Wildenai?"
Then, after a moment: "Right well knowest thou my only wish is to
make thee happy." Again his voice, though gentle, grew serious almost
to sadness. "No mere whim it is that counsels me to wed thee to
Cabrillo. "There is something - " He paused, continuing with