Their Mariposa Legend | Page 2

against the walls of rock behind her as she rounded a distant point, a ship came slowly into view. With wildly beating heart the young girl watched the vessel tack to clear the long curve of the coast. But once before in all her life had she seen such another monster winged canoe, and that had been when Senor Don Cabrillo first cast anchor in the Bay of Moons below, now almost a year ago. For many a week had the young man lingered, renewing the friendship with the Mariposa cemented more than eighteen years before when his father, hindered by storms in his adventurous journey up the coast, cast anchor off the shore, - the first white man to see their island. Nor was the lingering without result. Torquam he taught to speak the Spanish tongue, learning in his turn safer and easier routes to the gold fields of the north, while not the least among the treasures carried with him when at last he sailed away did he hold the promise that the beautiful daughter of the chief should become his bride when next he touched upon that shore. Could this, then, be the Spaniard's fleet returning? Was the Great Spirit powerless, after all, to save her? In sore bewilderment and terror Wildenai watched the distant ship.
Nearer and nearer it came. But, as its outline grew each moment more distinct, gradually her fears departed. For this was not the clumsy Spanish galleon she remembered. The prow was not nearly so high, nor was the incoming vessel as large in any respect as had been that other. Yet, though fear died, wonder grew. What new variety of strangers, then, was about to visit them? For that the ship intended to anchor she was by this time sure. Steadily it bore on until within a scant half mile of the crescent shaped beach where lay the royal village of the tribe. At length, as if in fear to trust themselves closer to the rocky shore, the crew were seen to bring the vessel sharply about. An anchor was cast over, the creaking of the hawsers distinctly audible in the clear morning air, and a few moments later a small boat was lowered. Into this boat immediately several sailors swung themselves and after a short delay, amidst the shouting of the Indians, now running in wild excitement up and down the beach, the men picked up their oars and started for the land.
"Alla-hoa, Wildenai!"
Up the stony trail leading to her cavern scrambled an Indian runner, a lithe youth who flung himself breathless at her feet.
"Thy father, oh princess, sends me to summon thee to his lodge. Strangers, - paleface strangers, - enemies, who can tell, are coming. See, - the ship!" With dark forefinger he pointed toward the sea. "Torquam would have thee hide with the rest of the women in the cave at the Great Rock. There Kathah-galwa wilt keep thee safe, he says. Make haste, oh Wildenai!"
"And am I not as safe up here?" returned the princess, calmly. "Be not so lost in thy terror, oh Norqua. I, too, have seen the ship and I fear not. Yet will I obey if so my father bids," she added quickly. "Go thou ahead. I follow." And hastily gathering together some reeds and colored grasses lying on the ledge, parts of an unfinished basket upon which, evidently, she had during some previous visit been at work, she flung them into a corner of the cavern and ran lightly down the narrow path leading to the village.
Here all by this time was tense excitement, the dramatic, ungoverned excitement of children. While with shrill cries two or three of the women gathered the little ones together, the rest pulled frantically at the poles holding each tepee in place. Still apparently quite unmoved, Wildenai sought first her father standing surprised but unafraid in the doorway of his lodge. Tall and spare and stern he looked, straight as some lonely pine on the slopes of distant San Jacinto. Yet even in the stress of such a moment a tender light stole into his eyes as they rested upon his motherless daughter.
Wildenai made obeisance and for a brief moment the two surveyed each other in silence. Then,
"It is well thou art come, my beloved one," spoke the chief. "Stranger pale-faces will soon be amongst us."
"Wildenai feels no fear, my father," quietly answered the girl.
"If they come in friendship," quickly Torquam replied, "then indeed may all be well. But the ship is not of the Senor's fleet, and if so be that we must fight, thou wert better hidden in the cave. We shall see."
Bending her head in mute acquiescence the girl moved away to join the group of women now almost ready to depart.

Meantime the vessel's