1636: Seas of Fortune (40 page)

“And how do we prevent this?”

“We have brought many of our retainers. They are trained for war, and the
kirishitan
are not. All the Christian samurai renounced Christianity, or went into exile, to Macao or Manila, many years ago. Our retainers have nothing to fear from a mob of farmers, fishermen, and craftsmen, let alone merchants.”

“Hmmph . . . Well, leave that be for now. Who else threatens us?”

“The Indians, and the Spanish.”

“Don’t assume the Dutch will always be our friends. They may like what they see in New Nippon, and try to seize it for themselves.”

“Thank you for pointing out my oversight, Father.”

His father took another sip. “Indeed, this warms my old bones. So, how do we defend against those threats?”

“Well, as I said already, we have your retainers.”

The elder Date frowned. “The encyclopedia says that there are three hundred thousand Indians in California. They aren’t, of course, all in Monterey, but still we must prepare for the possibility that the settlers from the First Fleet will be heavily outnumbered. And our retainers, even more so. And one day we may face—will face—the forces in New Spain.” Mexico.

His son worried his lip with his teeth before replying. “I supposed that means that we will have to teach the settlers how to defend themselves. Use the samurai as a mobile reserve.”

“Exactly. Which means—coming back to the point I raised earlier—that the
kirishitan
will then no longer be unschooled in the arts of war.”

“So what do we do, Father?”

“It is not so much what we do, as what
you
do. You must become a Christian, yourself.”

“A Christian? Well, I suppose I can. Does that mean that all our retainers must also become Christians?”

“No, leave it to their conscience. And
I
will not convert. If I did, they would, too, and if we were all Christian, that would make it more difficult to recruit non-Christian Japanese to come to New Nippon. And I have hopes to attract more
ronin
here, at the very least.

“You may, of course, be approached by certain of the
kirishitan
. . . who will suggest that it is your duty as a Christian to overthrow your father—”

“I will slay them on the spot!”

“You will listen, feign ambition tempered by fear and conscience, determine the names of their fellow conspirators . . . and
then
you may execute them all.”

“Thank you for this very good advice, Father.”

“You’re welcome. But you have yet to name the greatest threat of all.”

“Forgive my slowness. The Portuguese?”

“No, no, no.” The old lord lowered his voice. “The shogun himself. We have to walk a fine line. If we produce too little, then he may decide to cut off our supplies. What would we do without gunpowder and metal? According to the encyclopedia, these ‘American Indians,’ like the Ainu north of Nippon, only have stone weapons. Even if they ally with us, they will not be of much use against the Spanish.”

“And if we produce too much of value, he may regret his bargain with you, and seek to replace us with his own clansmen.”

“Exactly.”

On the
Ieyasu Maru

Texada Island was in the Straits of Georgia. These separated the eastern coast of the southern half of Vancouver Island from the mainland of British Columbia. If the atlas copy could be trusted, then the iron was near the middle of Texada. Haruno and Tokubei had hoped that with the help of local Indians, they would be able to find it.

When they arrived at Gillies Bay, midway along the west coast of Texada, they spotted a trio of Indians. They appeared to be watching a killer whale pod. There were at least a dozen killer whales zipping about, and one was a baby. Tokubei’s interpreter identified the Indians as belonging to what an up-time anthropologist would call the Coast Salish, a rather loosely defined group of Indians speaking related lanaguages. She explained that the Coast Salish believed that a dead chief, or an ordinary tribesman that died by drowning, could be reborn as a killer whale. Perhaps, she suggested, there had recently been such a death, and the Indians were trying to determine if the baby had any markings that were reminiscent of the deceased tribesman.

Despite Tokubei’s technological advantage—the telescope—the waiting Coast Salish became aware of the
Ieyasu Maru
almost as soon as Tokubei spotted them. Or so Tokubei interpreted the gestures they made in his direction. They nonetheless held their ground; clearly, they thought that monitoring the behavior of the orcas was worth the risk posed by the “flying canoe.”

Tokubei had the launch lowered, and he, the interpreter, a miner, two samurai, and several sailors got on board and rowed obliquely toward shore, being careful to keep their distance both from the pod and the Indians. Tokubei’s interpreter called out a greeting.

Like all of the slaves Tokubei had purchased from the
Kwakwaka’wakw, the interpreter was a “she.” Generally speaking, when the Kwakwaka’wakw attacked an enemy village, they killed the mature males and carried off the prime females. The Japanese drifters were actually lucky to have been spared. Their good fortune was perhaps attributable to them being recognizably not of any known enemy tribe, so there were no grudges to work off. It also helped that it was more prestigious to own a slave who was plainly “exotic.”

Tokubei had held a big ceremony to free the slave interpreters and “adopt” them into his “tribe.” He said that he expected them to respect his authority and that of Haruno, and to translate and in general help out the crew.

The crew seemed very eager to help them learn Japanese.

This particular translator was of the Snuneymuxw, who lived near modern Nanaimo on Vancouver Island. Her name was “Yells-at-Bears,” and she proved to be equally effective at yelling at other Indians.

The Coast Salish made a peace sign, which Tokubei and his people mimicked. The two parties slowly sauntered toward each other, pausing now and then to scan their surroundings, until at last they were at a comfortable speaking distance.

The trio were of a different Coast Salish group, the Seshelt, and they were of the Kalpilin band, whose main village was near modern Pender Harbor. If the translations Tokubei was getting were accurate, the Seshelt, or at least the Kalpilin, did not live on Texada, but they hunted and fished there, mostly on the southern third of the island. This group had ventured farther north because they were keeping watch on that group of orca, for pretty much the reasons that Yells-at-Bears had suggested.

Yells-at-Bears was visibly pleased to meet these Coast Salish men from the other side of the Straits of Georgia—indeed, for a moment Tokubei was afraid she would abandon him—but they didn’t recognize the iron ore specimens they were shown. Did that mean that there was no iron ore on the island? Just that the local material didn’t look quite like these specimens, and therefore they thought they were something different? Or could there be some reason, religious perhaps, not to admit recognition? Tokubei had no idea.

Tokubei gave them some trifling gifts anyway, since he wanted to make a good impression, and signaled to the captain that they could continue on.

They couldn’t measure latitude with an accuracy of better than about seventeen miles, and Texada Island was about thirty miles long. But the Indians confirmed that the Japanese were on the west coast of a big island, and from its size and general location, they knew that it must be Texada. So far, it had been heavily wooded, with a steep coast.

They had gone three or four miles beyond Gillies Bay, which appeared to be a passable anchorage, when first one of the miners, and then several others, started shouting. Tokubei spoke to them, and soon thereafter, he was running for the captain.

The miners had seen a large red stain on a hillside. Tokubei and Haruno discussed the significance of this find with Iwakashu. The ship was already sailing close-hauled, so all that was needed to heave-to was brace just the squares on the main mast over to the opposite tack. The maneuver left the hull perpendicular to the wind, drifting slowly to leeward.

A boat was lowered, and Tokubei, three samurai, Iwakashu, one of the rescued drifters, and Yells-at-Bears rowed to shore. As the samurai watched for any threat, Iwakashu scrambled up to the outcrop. He took some samples, and gingerly made his way downslope.

* * *

Iwakashu, “singer-to-rocks,” was a mining engineer and prospector, and had once been a protégé of Okubo Iwami no Kami Nagayasu. Iwakashu had traveled all over Japan; mining engineers were permitted to cross all road barriers, provided they could pass an examination confirming their knowledge of ores. Iwakashu had even traveled to Hokkaido to look for gold dust in the rivers, but he had been stopped by orders of Lord Matsumae, who jealously guarded access to the land of the Ainu.

Nagayasu, a
kirishitan
actor who had overheard the shogun Tokugawa Ieyasu complain that he needed more gold, had told Ieyasu that he knew how the mines could be operated more efficiently and new mines discovered. He brought in Portuguese and Chinese experts, and succeeded in boosting gold production at Izu. Ieyasu was impressed, and gave him more authority. When Okubo died in 1613, he was the commissioner of mines, and the collector of taxes, in Sado and Omi.

Unfortunately, Okubo had promised his concubines a large inheritance upon his death, and his heir refused to pay. The concubines appealed, and Ieyasu ordered an audit. This revealed that Okubo had committed embezzlement on a massive scale. Moreover, the auditors discovered letters that showed that Okubo was engaged in a criminal conspiracy to overthrow Ieyasu with the aid of Christian soldiers. The letters implicated Date Masamune’s son-in-law, Matsudaira Tadateru, in the conspiracy. The daughter of Lord Matsudaira’s chief retainer was in fact married to one of Okubo’s sons, and Lord Matsudaira was suspected of Christian sympathies, so this seemed quite plausible to the shogun.

Ieyasu didn’t move at the time against Lord Matsudaira, a close relative, let alone the powerful Date Masamune. However, Okubo’s seven sons were executed and his fief confiscated, and Lord Matsudaira himself was placed under close surveillance.

Iwakashu had thought it wise to travel abroad for reasons of health, and Date Masamune had arranged for him to travel, under an assumed name, first to the Ryukyu Islands, and then to China. There he had studied Chinese mining technology, and had returned to Japan only after hearing of the death of Hidetada, Ieyasu’s son, in 1632.

So Iwakashu owed Date Masamune a great debt of gratitude.

A debt that the lord of Sendai called in when he was named grand governor of New Nippon.

And so it was that Iwakashu had found himself crossing the Pacific to distant Texada Island.

* * *

Even before Iwakashu actually clambered back onto the deck of the
Ieyasu Maru
, Tokubei knew from Iwakashu’s body language that his report would be favorable. But it would say nothing about copper or gold from Vancouver Island. What they had found was an uncommon mineral in Japan. An iron ore. He proved it when he returned to the ship, and held the ore close to the ship’s compass.

As the
Ieyasu Maru
sailed back to the Gillies Bay anchorage to spend the night, Tokubei thought about the implications of Iwakashu’s discovery, especially in the light of what Yells-at-Bears had told him. Texada was a perfect mining site. While the Indians visited it, there were no villages there. None that the Japanese had seen yet, at any rate. The island, at least in the northern part, was low in profile, so climbing would be minimal. Snow-capped Vancouver Island blocked the ocean winds from the west and southwest, and other islands defended Texada from the northwest wind. There were several good anchorages. The Seshelt
had confirmed that it rarely snowed on Texada, and the fishing was decent. And, best of all, some of the ore was just lying loose for the taking. By the time Tokubei had finished these ruminations, it was dark.

Tokubei found the captain at the stern, eyeing the moon.

“The moon is carrying an umbrella,” said Captain Haruno. He meant that it had a halo, which usually presaged rain. “I’d like to get a move on tomorrow morning, if we’ve accomplished our mission here.”

“Well, we’ve found iron ore, and we can report that to the grand governor when we rendezvous with him at Monterey Bay,” said Tokubei, “but . . . wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could start a mining colony here and now?”

Captain Haruno frowned. “We were manned with exploration rather than colonization in mind. Iron ore is all well and good, but where are the farmers to feed the miners?”

Tokubei sighed. “But if we must wait until the Second Fleet comes to take the next step, it will be a long time before Texada is producing iron ore, neh?”

“I don’t know see how we have a choice, Tokubei-san.”

“Suppose we do this. We leave an exploration party, so that by the time the Second Fleet arrives they will be experts on this island, and its neighbors. The woman Yells-at-Bears speaks Kwakwala and Seshelt, as well as her own language. We leave one of Heishiro’s sailors with her, to translate between Kwakwala and Japanese. Plus a few miners and a couple of samurai. Isamu and Masaru, perhaps. Give them a longboat, fishing and mining gear, and trade goods. They can survey Texada in detail; look for more outcrops of ore, and find out where the land can be cultivated, where the fishing and hunting are good, and so forth.”

“And that way, when the Second Fleet ship comes, its colonists won’t have to start from scratch,” mused Haruno.

“Exactly.”

“The participation of Yells-at-Bears and at least one of the castaways is critical. Find out if they are agreeable. And then ask Heishiro, Yoritaki and Iwakashu what they think of the idea.”

* * *

Yells-at-Bears was more than agreeable. She had been resigned to the prospect of sailing away from her homeland, with the Japanese who had bought and freed her, but this was much better. She suggested that the Japanese could spend the winter with her own people. Or perhaps with her sister’s people; she had married a Seshelt.