what many believe first brought the Spanish conquistadores to our shores.”
“She wasn’t a real woman was she?”
“No, dear, but the world would be less exciting were it not for myths, don’t you think?”
Mariah had been given a limited education, and so had no idea how to answer that, but apparently Daisy didn’t need a reply, because she launched into the telling with a gusto that kept Mariah riveted for miles. The tales of warfare waged by the queen, her army of Amazon warriors, her battle-trained griffins and fleets of ships, were interspersed with historical truths about the first Spanish explorers, particularly a Black Spaniard by the name of Estabanico. He, along with Cabeza de Vaca wandered from Florida to the Southwest on a seven-year journey that laid the foundation for the explorers that followed them. “I always told my students that Estabanico was the first man of African descent to set foot in America.”
After hearing more about Queen Calafia being captured during a battle in Constantinople, Mariah asked, “What happened to her?”
“She converted to Christianity and married a Spanish knight, but she and her army eventually returned to California for more adventures.”
Mariah sat back, satisfied. She didn’t know what impressed her more: hearing about the Black queen’s exciting adventures, or Daisy’s knowledge of all things California. Thanks to further stories, Mariah learned about the Black forty-niners, and that both slaves and free men panned for gold; Jim Beckwourth, who discovered a pass through the Sierras that bears his name and who was also a member of the Bear Flag Party; William Leidesdorff, who operated the first steamship in San Francisco Bay and was so wealthy and influential he was appointed American vice consul to Mexico under President Taft; and the fascinating Biddy Mason.
“She came to California as the slave of a Mormon man named Smith,” Daisy explained. “And in fifty-five, Mr. Smith decided he wanted to move to Texas and take his slaves with him. Biddy brought suit against him in court and won freedom not only for herself but for many other Mormon slaves as well.”
“And after she won her freedom?”
“She worked as a housekeeper and a nurse, and eventually became one of the wealthiest women of any color in the city of Los Angeles. Her efforts to provide schooling for youngsters of our race is still celebrated to this day.”
Mariah was very glad Daisy chose to sit next to her. She’d learned a lot. “You must have been a very good schoolteacher.”
“I like to think I was.”
“Thank you so much.”
“You are most welcome.”
“I’ll miss when you get off in Denver.”
“I’ll miss you as well. Not many young people will allow an old hen like me to ramble on for hours about the past.”
Mariah didn’t think it was rambling at all. “I enjoyed myself.”
And when the train reached the Denver station, she and Daisy shared their good-byes and a content Mariah settled in for the rest of the ride to Sacramento.
A weary Mariah stepped off the train in Sacramento after nearly a week of travel, and the wealth of people rushing back and forth caught her by surprise. She knew California was home to a large number of people but she hadn’t expected the crowds to rival the ones back East. She saw a few women, but most of the passersby were men, and were of a variety of races. Black, European, Spanish. There were even a few Chinese; the first she’d ever seen, and she did her best not to stare their way like a country girl at her first fair. Myriad conversations assailed her from all sides and were in so many different languages she wondered if the train had somehow deposited her in a foreign country.
It was wonderful. The hustle and bustle and the new surroundings competed with her excitement of being in a new place. Some of the men passing by smiled and tipped their hats. She returned their greeting with polite but terse nods. Libby warned her