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Updated: May 25, 2025
The children watched the game until Gesnip said that they must go on, for their mother would be home and want them. When they returned, Macana was warming herself by the fire where the men were sitting. "See our tule; is it not a great deal?" asked the children, showing their bundles. "Yes, but not enough," replied their mother. "You will have to go out another day."
Their faces are the color of the kah-hoom mother weaves in her baskets. There are only three like us, and they all have such strange clothes." "Do not be afraid," said Gesnip. "I see uncle; he is one of the dark ones like ourselves. The island people have yellow skins." The time was the year 1540, and the people, the Californians of that day.
So many people go there, uncle said, that the shells they have left make a hill, a hill just of shells that is many steps high. From the top of it one may look over the water, which is so long no eye can see the end of it." "What else did you hear?" asked Gesnip. "Nothing more, for mother called me," replied her brother. "I should like to hear more of those stories, though."
"How can it make two canoes if they burn it up?" asked his sister. "You are stupid, Gesnip," said her brother. "Don't you see they are burning it to separate it into two parts? Then they will burn each log into the shape of a boat, finishing it up with axes of bone or horn. Uncle told me how they did it." "Why have they put the green bark on the top of the log?"
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