THE ISLAND OF THE SACRED CROSS 269 



The cave known as Cueva Valdez, toward the east 

 end on the north side, is quite as remarkable as the 

 Painted Cave. It is partly on land, and will hold 

 several hundred people. One entrance opens on the 

 little bay, really a very good harbor; the other on a 

 sandy canon that leads up into the mountains; and 

 there is a trail along the rocky shore to the east. 



Almost everywhere I found the black earth and the 

 shell heaps of the ancient inhabitants. There were 

 literally hundreds of such places, and in the canon I 

 found a little stream that was cutting its way through 

 an ancient burial-ground. Visitors are not particu- 

 larly desired unless they come accredited from some 

 one, so I imagine that a systematic search at Santa 

 Cruz would result in the discovery of a vast amount 

 of Indian implements. At the west end we found 

 large deposits of abalone shells. 



I wandered over these old town sites, watched the 

 little stream which glides over their bones, and the 

 strong wind that exposed their household gods, on the 

 dunes, and I could readily see this charming isle of 

 summer with its mountain-environed canons and val- 

 leys peopled by a race that attained happiness at least; 

 men and women to whom imaginative values had 

 some significance, and who fought a good fight in the 

 field of human endeavor. 



No one can examine the really beautiful objects 

 taken from these homes — the fish-hooks of pearl, the 

 beads of shell, the weapons of artistic design, the grace- 

 fully carved cups, the mosaic-ornamented flutes and 

 pipes — without crediting these lost people with imag- 

 inative achievements and as being early protagonists 

 of the principle that life and beauty are in some way 



