Chapter 2

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 for signal fires, And in eager alternation Held the Magic Yellow Iris.

Came at last the welcome singing Of the Meadow Lark and Robin, And above the eastern mountains Flushed the rose-light of the morning; Then again the sky was tinted By the Elf who plays with colors, And the sleeping poppies wakened When the sunbeams kissed their eyelids.

From the Heights of Point Bonita Rose a thread of smoke that lengthened, Broadened, flaunted like a banner, Black and ominous of evil. "They are coming!" Yana whispered, "See, the signal fires are lighted! They are coming. Guardian Spirit Of our native country, save us!" And she pressed the Yellow Iris Closely to her throbbing bosom.

Over northern rim of ocean Came the war canoes by hundreds, Came until the waters darkened With the number of the warboats. Never could the Tamals conquer Such a multitude of foemen. Swiftly rose and fell their paddles, Flashing in the brilliant sunshine, Trailing scarfs of foam behind them, As they raced toward the harbor.

Tana searched the far horizon, Saw the signal fires blazing On the mountain tops and headlands, Heard the war drums in the village Roll in constant wild alarum.

Yana held the Yellow Iris With the Magic in its petals, Held and gazed with adoration On the velvet mystic markings. Then she plucked a magic petal, Held it high, and ere it fluttered To the breeze this prayer was uttered:

'Spirit of our Native Country, Goddess guarding home and harbor, Roll the fog-banks o'er the headlands, Hide the narrows from the foemen; Bring the west-wind from the ocean, Drive their boats to crash and shatter On the rocky surf-bound islands. Bring the west-wind! Bring the fogbanks!'

From the ocean came the west-wind, Blowing stronger, growing cooler, Bringing in protecting fog-banks, Sweeping landward o'er gray waters, Flooding through the Golden Gateway, Rolling over shore and headlands.

Through the fog the boats were racing For the entrance to the harbor, When they plunged into the smother Of the breakers round the islands-- Crashed upon the rocks and splintered. From the surf the foemen struggled To the rocks and scrambled on them.

Then the Maiden plucked another Petal from the Magic Iris, And she prayed again, 'Oh, Spirit Of our Native Country, hear us, Change the foemen to Sea-creatures, That they never more attack us.'

As the magic petal fluttered To the ground the foe was changing. Arms and paddles changed to flippers; Legs were bound as in a bandage, And their brown and hairy bodies Wriggled on the rocks, and crowded, Barking, fighting one another.

When the danger was averted, When the enemy was helpless, Sisters wept, embraced each other, Thanked the Gods for their deliverance.

Still remained another petal Of the Magic Yellow Iris. 'One more wish we have, one only.' Said one sister to the other, 'Would we might remain forever, As the guardians of the harbor, To protect it from all foemen, To invoke the fog and west-wind.'

Then, again The Poppy Maiden Stood triumphantly before them. 'You have chosen well, my children, Had you wished for wealth or beauty, Robes or jewels for adornment, Or for any selfish purpose, Then the petals would have fallen To the earth and lost their Magic. My twin daughters, ever faithful, All your thoughts are for your people; Therefore, you shall be immortal, Standing on the heights forever, As the Guardians of the Harbor. Draw your mantles around your shoulders, Furs they are, but flowers they shall be. As my garments are of flowers, So shall yours be, golden poppies, Lupins, blue, shall deck your mantle. Blue and gold shall be your colors-- Blue, for purity of purpose; Gold, for worth of soul and spirit. While you stand above the harbor, While you call the fog and west-wind, While you wear your cloak of poppies, Never shall a foeman enter Through the Golden Gate with war-boats. Pluck the petal, let it flutter To the ground. Your wish is granted. Stand forever, native daughters, As Twin Peaks, to guard the harbor.'

That was long ago, my children, When the earth was young, and people Heard the voices of the Spirits-- Knew the language of the sea-birds. To this day the ancient warriors Flounder on the Sea Rock Islands, Barking, roaring, crowding, fighting, Near the gateway of the harbor. Still the Sisters, as the Twin Peaks, Guard the city and the harbor. In the summer, at the season When the ancient foes came southward, They invoke the cooling west-wind With its fog, to screen the harbor; Yet, the sunlight seeks the valley Where the ancient tepees clustered, Beaming there in benediction, While around it lie the shadows.'

That, my children, is the legend Told beside the evening campfire By the ancient Tamal woman, In a grove of giant redwoods, On the slopes of Tamalpais.

The Sea Gulls.

Round the boat the Sea Gulls hovered, Soaring on their spreading pinions, Floating on the air, but turning Searching eyes upon the people; Searching, searching, always searching, Winging, swinging, darting, calling In their plaintive tones, "Ah-we-a."

By my side my friend, the Tamal, Stood and gazed upon the Sea Gulls. Long he gazed in deep abstraction, Then he said, "They still are searching, Still are calling to Ah-we-a. Would you know the Tamal legend Of Ah-we-a and the Sea Gulls?

Know you, then, that these blue waters Were not always calm and peaceful. Once the Sea King, grim and moody, Held his court within this harbor-- Held his carnivals of beauty, And his wild and stormy revels.

In the cove of Sausalito, Where the houses of the paleface Terrace on the wooded hillside And the sailboats ride at anchor, Lived a tribe of fisher people, Building homes among the crannies Of the rocks 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 odor Of the burning pitch that lingers As the incense of the forests.

By the fireplace sat the Tamal, Lone survivor of her people-- Sat and listened to the patter Of the raindrops on the shingles, To the soughing of the west-wind In the branches of the redwoods. Long she gazed upon the harbor, Lying leaden-gray below us. Then, she told this ancient legend-- Legend of her tribe, the Tamals, Legend of an ancient deluge.

"Do you see," she said, "the Islands Of the Albatross and Beaver? By another name you call them. One is crested by a prison, Grim and somber, melancholy; One is gay with flags and bunting, Ringing with the martial music Of your sailor boys in training; Yet, if you observe them closely, You will see in one the profile Of an Albatross, a giant Sea bird, sleeping on the water; While the other is a Beaver Facing always to the eastward. When the noon sun casts its shadows You may see his stony features From the deck of ferry steamers Near the pier that wades the shallows On the harbor's eastern border, Tamals call them Sacred Islands Of the Albatross and Beaver, For upon their backs were carried All the Tamals through the deluge.

Down the ages came the legend, Told by Fathers to the children, Told on rainy winter evenings Round the campfires of the Tamals.

From the ocean rolled the rain-clouds, Came unceasingly the rain-clouds. Black and heavy were the rain-clouds, Lighted only by the flashes Of the lightning playing in them. Fell the rain as falls the torrents In the waterfalls of rivers, Fell through days of murky darkness, Fell through nights of inky blackness, Fell for days and nights unnumbered. Waters covered plains and valleys. On the coast the sea was rising, Flooding all the lower country, Creeping up the mountain foothills; Still the rains in floods descended.

Up the slopes of Tamalpais Climbed the people of the Tamals, While behind them crept the waters, Covering the hills and mountains. One by one the peaks were swallowed In the flood of rising waters. On the gray and sullen waters Floated logs and trees uprooted; On the trunks and in the branches Cowered creatures of the forests, Then the people prayed the Spirit-- Prayed the Father in the Heavens-- That he save his tribe, the Tamals, Ere the waters rise above them; And the Spirit heard their pleading, Sent the Albatross and Beaver, Giant messengers from Heaven, As the Saviors of the Tamals.

Albatross came from the westward, Through the lightning of the storm-clouds, Growing larger, coming nearer, Till the thunder of his pinions Echoed from the cliffs above them, Then he rested on the waters.

From the eastward came the Beaver, Swimming through the turbid waters, Growing, growing, ever growing, Till he had become a Giant, On whose back the tribe of Tamals Could find refuge from the waters.

Then a voice spoke from the storm-clouds, Spoke in mighty tones of thunder: 'I have heard your prayer, Oh Tamals; You shall live, and shall re-people All the world with men and women. I will give to them the spirit Of the Albatross who searches Distant seas on tireless pinions. I will give to them the wisdom Of the Beaver who with patience Labors, building and constructing. On the Albatross and Beaver You shall ride, until the waters Shall return to their own borders.'

On the Albatross and Beaver All the Tamals rode in safety, While the swirling deluge covered All the foothills and the mountains. Then the northwind, dry and scorching, Drove the rain-clouds to the ocean, And the sun-rays, piercing through them, Glinted on the troubled waters. Came the peak of Tamalpais As an island to the surface; Down the slopes the flood receded Baring forests to the sunlight, Then the grass-lands of the valleys And the old familiar coastline.

With rejoicing all the Tamals Sought their homes along the bayshore, Singing thanks to the Great Spirit, Singing praises to their saviors, Giant Albatross and Beaver, Resting then, within the harbor. Then again, in voice of thunder, Spoke the Spirit from the Heavens; 'Let the Totem of the Tamals Be the Albatross and Beaver; Search and Labor, be their motto; And, lest children of their children May forget their mighty saviors, Giant Albatross and Beaver Shall be changed to rocky Islands-- Monuments to stand forever, In the Harbor of the Tamals.'

Thus the ancient Tamal woman Told the Legend of the Islands, While December rains were falling, And the fragrant pine was burning In the fireplace of the cabin On the slope of Tamalpais.

The Lake of Merita.