At this Kakunai almost melted into the icy puddle on the ground. He shivered as he wiped the cold sweat dripping from his forehead. At first voices said—"Who is speaking in theseribald terms? Kakunai San is it not? Who the companion?... Oya! 'Tis the horse which talks! Asakusa and Yoshiwara? What say the women to the presence of the beast? Eh! Off with you, Kakunai San, to show which is horse and which groom." They crowded around the pair, not daring to come close. Kakunai felt extremely unwell. He could not deny the fact. "Like boys, he boasts beyond his powers. The power of speech runs loose. Yet as a horse it is a wise beast, the treasure of a four hundredkoku yashiki, since none other possesses his like. Deign to note his own proclamation of his tastes." This was to throw the consequences of discovery on the animal, to file the sharpness of teeth against the promised mauling of Kakunai's flesh. Then he waxed eloquent and proud—"A fine horse indeed! Such a horse in battle is unequalled. Is it not so, Kagé?" And Kagé promptly answered to his friend's praise. "A horse of noble quality, with good deeds to his credit, gains reputation. At the astonishment of the foe the rider runs them through with the spear. Hence gain of heads, and reputation to both steed and master." Kagé spun round, letting fly hoofs in all directions, shaking his head and biting savagely. At this display of battle fire those too close fled in disorder. At a safe distance wonder and advice was expressed. "Deign to be off, Kakunai San. Truly the animal is foxed, and foxes enough are to be found in Yoshiwara. He will find company without fail." Kakunai, as he restrained the beast, now full at ease—"Of that we are assured. Alas! He cannot squat. In that he is clumsy, as is the red haired, green-eyed western barbarian. Otherwise it is not Kakunai who would bring coin to Nakanochō, but convey money hence." Some agreed, and some disagreed, and all congratulated. Thus did horse and groom get much advertisement at the Ōte-mon, to the subsequent profit of both.
Shūzen, audience granted, appeared at the castle gate. Respectfully the crowd drew apart, and watched the lord depart with his train. Never had one of the minorhatamotoattracted greater attention; and of these many were notable men for personal exploits. Entirely unconscious of this notice Shūzen rode off to hisyashiki. In the course of the succeeding days many visits were to be paid, and the wondrous fact had chance to spread from the under world to the surface. At theyashikiof Abé Shirōgorō the salutations were exchanged; the spicedsakéto preserve life—thetōso—was brought forth. Shūzen detected in his host a quizzical, even amused attitude. Said Shirōgorō—"Shūzen Uji, did he deign to ride, or mount thekago(palanquin)." The question was abrupt, and seemed not over courteous. Ahatamotoof four hundredkokupossessed steed and spearmen. Abé Shirōgorō was a great lord, and Shūzen answered smoothly, seeking any source of offense. To his affirmative, said the host—"Then Shūzen Dono perhaps deigned to mount the favourite and talking horse.... Surely he knows of the animal's great gift.... Congratulations are due, for what is the talk of the castle precincts." Shūzen's astonishment was too great not to be genuine. He was the first to propose to Abé Dono the taking of a look at the noted beast. He was eager to inspect an animal, which, it seemed, he had as yet never seen. The two lords came forth to thegenkwan(house entrance). On summons Kakunai brought forward the horse, expecting his lord to mount, not exactly understanding the presence of the lord of the mansion. Shūzen's first words enlightened him unpleasantly. With some severity—"Kakunai, does this horse talk?" Thunderstruck Kakunai did not know what answer to make. Kagé could bite. His master could do worse, if enough angered. He hesitated—"Hai!" Quoth Shūzen—"'Hai' is no answer. Has the horse power of human speech?" Kakunai put his hand to his head, then turned to Kagé, who was obstinately silent. He gave him as hard a blow on the neck as he dared, without result. "The Tono Sama has heard the tale; as has this Kakunai. His head in a whirl, Kakunai knows not whether it be true or not. By an humble groom such matters are not understood. To report idle gossip or the illusions of one's brain, savours of impudence. Deign the question in person. Kagé refuses answer to this Kakunai."
Thus skilfully he lied. Kagé eyed him with approval; Shūzen with some doubt. He turned to the horse—"Kagé, it is said you speak. Shūzen is the master. Answer without lying." Kagéspoke, indifferent to rank and without circumlocution of polite society—"'Tis so; and just as does a human being. Truly Shūzen Sama has supplied a most foul smelling place to learn the art." Abé Shirōgorō snickered—"Kagé Dono is too precise. Would he learn the art of converse over his master's wine?"—"Not unwillingly," replied the nag. "But in any case he would have Isuké and this lazy groom make better and more frequent use of broom and bucket. The good offices of Abé Dono are requested." By this retort courteous the two noblemen were silenced and amused. Uncertain as to the course of further converse with the beast Okumura made salutation, mounted and departed homewards. As he gave the horse into the groom's charge he said—"It is for Kakunai to keep in mind the words of Kagé." As he vigorously applied broom and water to the stall and vicinity of the favoured animal, Kakunai mentally determined that on the whole Shūzen Dono was the more dangerous of the two. Hence-forward he would be careful to remember all that Kagé said—and make report.
The first efforts of Shūzen at solving this mystery were not overly successful. Asamurai, he betook himself to the highest exponent of the caste cult. In search of illumination he hit upon Hayashi Daigaku no Kami Dono. This man, learned in all the lore of Morokoshi (China), head of the certified institute of letters—the University—could but confess his ignorance—vicariously. Rats nesting in the tails of horses formed part of the experience of books, but not of that of men. Of talking horses there was no authenticated case. The whole matter remained without proof. He had never heard of such. Shūzen squatted in a drowsy stupefaction as an incomprehensible learning was poured into his ear. He choked with the dust raised from the ancient volumes, tenderly and reverently pawed over by the learned doctor, who seemed dust-proof. Finally through the mist he heard the asseveration that it must be the work of fox or badger. It was matter for the diviner, not the divinity of the learned. With this Hayashi Dono gave the pile of dusty script before him a mighty thump, and disappeared behind the cloud he had raised.
Okumura Shūzen sought the open air and respiration. Where now should he go for counsel? He would sell the beast. Kakunai sought mercy. He was but a groom, and death was easy at his master's hand. At all events easier than the one promised by Kagé, if Kakunai should lead him out to the market, and with fluent lies send him forth to earn the cruel livelihood of his kind between the shafts of a cart. Shūzen was a kindly man; the horse one deserving better treatment. The groom's terror and the beast's threat added a new and interesting element to this search into the unknown. On the next day was to be heard memorial service forthe ancestral tablets. This was to be performed in person by the abbot of the Seishōji of Shiba, Bankei Oshō known to fame. Shūzen snoozed and exercised patience as the abbot read and expounded the lengthysutrascroll. Over the subsequent repast he broached the subject of the talk of beasts, and his own particular difficulties. Bankei Oshō was most interested. All animals had speech and memory according to their kind. Food, a master's kindness, their own particular concerns, were matters of great intelligence among them. Why then should speech be aught else than to possess the organ? Such was the case with parrots. Monkeys evidently understood each other well, understood the gestures of men. As to the horse, there were very ancient records of the speech of such; so dim in the memory of men that probably they were mere talk of ignorance. But he would see this wondrous beast. Deign that guidance be supplied.
Shūzen grasped at the offer. The abbot spoke with an ease and glibness that only the ecclesiastic on his own ground can show to those ignorant of his subject. He wrapped his lore, made easy for the beginner, in such technical phraseology, that Shūzen could grasp at the meaning without knowing anything about what the abbot said, and hence had all the greater respect for the immense truth which he could see and not understand. Appreciation is as good as knowing—for the one who would pose—and soon Shūzen and the cleric stood at the house entrance, waiting the production of the horse. Isuké in haste had carried the message to Kakunai. Kakunai, assured of his master's forbearance and Kagé's accomplishments, had been none too sober since that happy day. Said he aloud—"A horse is not an ass; and a talking horse is one of his kind. Tip money to see the wondrous beast has flowed into the stable; and wine has flowed into Kakunai. For Kagé there has been soft rice paste (mochi) and dumpling (dango) in unstinted quantities. The pastry cook has been overworked. Kagé, now seize the opportunity. Speak with fluency and argument. Ah! If you had but the taste of this Kakunai! Wine would be an inspiration."—"Just try me!" chimed in the brute's voice. "Follow up the wine with rice cakes in syrup (shiruko). Otherwise Kagéopens not his mouth, except to bite. Grievous is it to exercise speech, and to witness the benefits accruing to the human hog. Henceforth Kakunai must share alike with Kagé." At this rebellion Kakunai was dumbfounded—"Nay, Kagé!Shirukoandsakéfor a beast? Never would such come to the inside of the belly (mind) of Kakunai. If you did but know its content...."—"Shut up!" was the nag's discourteous response. "Kagé knows it well. You have eatentakuan(pickled radish), and it smells none too sweet. A little further off, good Sir: now—who is this would be interviewer?"
Reduced to proper proportion Kakunai made humble reply. "Most fitting company for the honoured Kagé Sama. The abbot Bankei deigns his presence." The horse gave a violent snort, and plunged back to the limit of his halter. "Kagé talks not with a priest, nor henceforth with anyone." Kakunai was all consternation—"But Kagé Dono ... the tips! This refusal is terrific. Why not favour the curiosity of the Oshō Sama? Deign to reconsider. The dainties of Kagé, the wine of Kakunai, are at stake. Silent before the Oshō, the Danna Sama in anger will strike off the head of Kagé. Kakunai loses friend and fortune at a blow." The animal duly mused. "It is so. Shūzen Dono of late has been short tempered. It cannot be avoided. Better had it been for Kakunai to take this Kagé and depart to country fairs and towns; to pick up much coin for wine and dainties. However, all may go well. Delay not past the coming night to join yourself with Kagé. Between the service of Shūzen and that of Kagé this low fellow (yarō) Kakunai must not hesitate."—"Just so," agreed the groom. "It is mere matter of gambling anyhow that any ill occurs. Drinking wine, does Kagé also gamble?" A shudder went through the frame of the horse—"Why speak thus? Of horses' bones the dice are made. Would Kagé trifle with the relics of his kind? Make answer, Kakunai." He spoke with a fierce earnestness. Kakunai stammering sought answer. Just then Isuké appeared, to urge all speed.
With lowered heads man and beast appeared at the house entrance. Kakunai touched three fingers to the ground. To insure due reverence Kakunai had haltered Kagé so that he could talk, buthardly move a limb. At sight of the beast Bankei Oshō took his most severe ecclesiastical pose. Dressed in violet robes, the gold embroidered stole (kesa) over his shoulders, the rosary of crystal beads in hand, he approached the horse. With the brush of long white hair which clears away the dust of the world's offences (hossu) he swept the circumambient air. Long he observed the nag. Then coming close to it he grasped the forelock. Kagé raised his head, with open mouth as if about to snap. The abbot continued his recitation of the holysutra. Mouth still wide open, clumsily the horse sank on his knees before the priest. Then suddenly and deftly Bankei thrust a bolus into the open mouth, which closed as moved by springs. Sweeping the air withhossuand his rescued arm—"Acquire the heart of virtue. Assume the true nature, and seek Nirvana." He kept on stroking the beast's head with the rosary. Once or twice Kagé opened his mouth as if to speak. Then incontinently the body rolled over lifeless. The bystanders looked on with fear and amazement. Without speaking the abbot took the arm of Shūzen and accompanied him within.
Kakunai, left to himself, rolled to the ground as speechless as his four legged charge. Tears of sorrow and anger flowed copiously. "Ah! He is dead! Kagé is dead! Wise was he to advise flight. Alas! This beast of abōzu(priest), what purge did he use, thus to cut off at once the breath of Kagé? No more gambling, no more wine, with Kagé nicely bedded and asleep in his stable, and Kakunai with equal luck asleep in the pleasure quarter! Alas! Alas! Kagé is no better now than a dead ass—while Kakunai still lives." Thus he vented his grief, to the amusement of his fellows who had shared but little in his fortunes. Meanwhile Shūzen and the abbot were otherwise engaged. Said Bankei—"Deign to relate something of how Shūzen Dono came to thisyashiki. Honoured Sir, was not the former site in Mita? How came the change?" Shūzen explained the conditions and the time of change to his new site and experiences. If there was aught of grudge, it attached rather to place than person. To this Bankei Oshō was agreed. "The fact of the case is plain to Bankei. The spirit directing the actions of the horse is not the spirit of the animal. The possession brought to anend by the exorcism, the alien spirit departed, and the carcass of the animal deprived of this influence, it fell to the ground an inert mass, like to the abandoned shell of the cicada. But the malevolent influence is to be found. This is the task of Shūzen Dono. Deign, honoured sir, then to have memorial rites performed by this Bankei, and no longer will theyashikibe haunted by such unusual and unseemly performance.... Daigaku no Sensei? He is but a Confucianist, bound to the letter of material substance. Nor would he confess the ignorance of the spiritual world he undoubtedly is gifted with, of the law of punishment for deeds performed in a past existence (ingwai) as taught by the Lord Buddha. The materialist has his nose to earth, and can see naught else. The idiot has his nose to heaven, and can see naught else. The Buddha's Law comprehends Heaven and Earth. Hence its truth." With this expression of theodium theologicumthe worthy abbot departed templewards, accompanied, as gage for further proceedings and profit, by the carcass of the horse. Bankei had this inhumed in the ground behind the main hall of the temple. Kakunai superintended these last obsequies. The abbot's words, as to the malevolence of the influence involved, was proved to Shūzen the next day, when report was brought that the groom had hanged himself at the gratings of the stall once occupied by Kagé. Moved by this strong hint, Kakunai was sent to join his equine friend in one common grave.
Warned by the unusual nature of these events Shūzen determined at once to trace out the source of this evil influence. It was his duty as asamuraito suppress such manifestations occurring so close to the suzerain's dwelling. It was to his own interest to free theyashikifrom such noxious vapours. Thekarō, Beita Heima, set on foot an investigation. Then it was that Isuké thechūgenhad thought of the hole detected under the shrine of the O'Inari Sama. On Shūzen's order thekarōundertook the task of examining this suspicious adjunct to theyashiki. Torches in hand severalchūgen, under the direction of thesamurai, were appointed to the work. The men hesitated a little to violate the precincts of the shrine. Growled Beita—"The carpenters did not hesitate to build it. What they put up, men can destroy.Up with the boarding. Thus the stone easily will be raised." The directions were carried out. There were many tracks of beasts, all of which seemed to converge to this spot. With removal of flooring and joists, soon the massive lid of granite was raised on edge. With a thud and cloud of dust it fell to one side. The men drew away, not only checked by the dark aperture exposed, but by the foul odour which poured up from the confined space. Holding his nose thekarōtook a lighted torch for further inspection of depth and means of entrance. "Um! A shallow place; not more than ajō(10 feet). Who volunteers to enter? Come! Don't be backward on his lordship's service. Isuké, eh?"
Isuké came forward readily enough at the call. He was a brave man, and moreover a little angered at the fate of his one time friend, Kakunai. If the beast of a horse, or the spirit beast, held occupancy here, Isuké would deal with him. The kick of spiritual hoofs and the bite of immaterial teeth had no terrors for Isuké. Carefully inspecting his ground he took the leap. A lighted torch was lowered to him. With this he marched off, the light growing quickly faint in the darkness. "Oya! Oya! 'Tis strange. The stench—it is unendurable. The darkness too thick even for the torch. It fails to burn." For a time his voice was heard rumbling off with increasing distance. To repeated shouts no answer was returned. Said Heima—"Isuké has gone too far, out of range. Some other must bear him aid.... What! All milk livers? You, Gensuké, love the wine cellar. Its care would seem to be your calling. Now down with you! Here is one made to hand for theyashiki. Make report of the discovery to his lordship." Gensuké was most unwilling, but his comrades loudly applauded the choice. He was lowered into the hole by hands energetic to lend him assistance in reaching its depths. Provided with a light he too started off on his march into the darkness. "Iya! Iya! What stench! 'Tis past endurance. Ah! There is a loud roaring yonder. Gensuké will investigate. Deign support in necessity." His voice also faded off with the distance. Then all was silence. Those outside now could hear the faint reverberation spoken of. To their shouts there was no answer. All were much alarmed. Theylooked into each others' faces. At thekarō'sorder there was now no hesitation, though there was some grumbling at the rashness of those who risked the wrath of the O'Inari Sama by the heedless undertaking.
Three or four men at once jumped down into the hole. With dimly burning torches, and holding each other by the hand, they made their way into the blackness of the cavern. Almost at once came a cry, answered by others. Those above leaned eagerly over the aperture. Some took the leap. Soon the men appeared, dragging along the limp and helpless body of Gensuké. The trouble now was clear. The men had been overcome by the vicious air of the cave. Soon Isuké also was brought to the upper air. With the removal all the roar and reverberation was transferred to the surface. The two men lay unconscious, breathing noisily, and to all appearance in great extremity. Beita San at once ordered local aid. While friction and cold water was being applied, the leech summoned, Saitō Sensei, came on the ground. Heima questioned anxiously as to the men's condition. The Sensei reassured him—"It is but the noxious air of the cavern which has overcome them. A day or two, and they will be as good as ever." The old man wrinkled his face and chuckled a little as he surveyed the victims of the O'Inari Sama. Greatly was the reputation of the shrine for efficacy added to in this punishment. "Boy and man this aging Saitō Genan has known the place. Evil its repute. The cave is very ancient, and in the past much feared by people round about. Failure to worship has been followed by misfortune. Horse or cow has disappeared, house been burned down, or pregnant wife frightened into miscarriage by apparitions. Young girls attending at the shrine have disappeared. Its reputation is as evil as that of the Kōjimachi well yonder." He jerked a finger in the direction indicated, at the neighbouring site beyond the bamboo fence. "A bolus, and these fellows are restored to consciousness." From his wallet he prepared the drug. Gensuké showed signs of life, opened his eyes, uneasily moving first this limb, and then that. Isuké sat bolt upright, with most stentorian snort. He waved both arms with a violence which sent his two supporters to the ground. In wrathhe sprang up, but the malign effect was still too powerful. His legs wavered under him, and they had to come again to his aid. However, it was necessary to carry off Gensuké limp and helpless; with the support of the arms on each side of him, Isuké made his way back to theyashikion his own legs.
Heima made report to his lord of what had passed, of the history of the place as reported by Saitō Sensei. Shūzen pursed his lips, and inquired as to the condition of Isuké. Thechūgenwas a favoured attendant; one much trusted. At the end of a week he was summoned to his lord's presence. "And Katai (tough) Isuké, his experience has gone beyond his powers?" Shūzen spoke with that slight jeering condolence which arouses obstinacy. Isuké, prostrate on his hands, expressed gratitude for his lord's reproof. The fault was not his. Overcome by the foul air he became giddy, then lost all sensation of time or place. "And the roaring and noises, these did not frighten Isuké into his faint?"—"Roaring, noise, there were none; beyond the gentle drip of water often heard in such places. The roaring heard must have been due to the snoring of Gensuké. The cowardly fellow still clings to the bed, sucking in the dainty fare of the invalid; not so, Isuké." Shūzen had an idea. All the others were too struck by fear to be of aid—"Then Isuké fears not the work of fox or badger. He will again make the venture?"—"For the Tono Sama; though none too willingly," was thechūgen'sreply. "Fox or badger? Let them but come under the knife of Isuké, and he will make soup of them; a better soup than they supply otherwise. But the stench!"—"And the foxes of Nakano (Shinjuku)?" Isuké blushed. His master was far too knowing.
At Shūzen's order that night Isuké met his lord at the steps of the Inari Shrine. The adventure pleased Shūzen. He was still young enough to delight in exposure and difficulties. Plainly old Beita was not the man for this task. His retainers readily would obey their lord's direction. But Shūzen hungered for a more direct credit. He stripped to his loin cloth in the cold winter night. Isuké followed his lord's example. The job would be no clean one. Then the two men dropped to the floor of the cavern. Isuké spoke in surprise. "Naruhodo!At night the place seems much brighter than by day." He looked around in some suspicion and astonishment. Then his eye rested on the torches. "Oya! The torch burns brightly, not dimly as before. Pfu! The stench is unaltered, but the air at least is breathable." Preceding his master by some ten paces, Shūzen heard him give a shout. Hastening up, with Isuké he bent over the aperture of what seemed to be a well. What was its depth? "In with you, Isuké," said Shūzen. Thechūgenprotested—"Nay! The Tono Sama deigns to jest. Is Isuké a bat (kōmori), one to fly off into the darkness.... Ah! The depth is terrific. The light hardly shows the blackness of the place. It may reach down to Meido itself." Shūzen lit a second torch, then cast it down into the cavity. He broke into a laugh. The light continued to burn brightly. "Meido then is not far off. The bottom of the well lies not fiveshaku(feet) below. Now in with you!" Anticipating thechūgenhe sprang down himself.
Isuké spoke, holding his nose—"Heigh! Tono Sama, deign to go no further. The stink passes beyond measurement. It increases with distance gone. Peugh! It blows from yonder." He pointed to a low aperture in one corner of the roundish space in which they stood. Shūzen could understand better now. The whole cave was due to water; had been formed by water in the loose volcanic soil. The well was a mere passage way by which it once had risen, and been drained off again. Isuké was right. With decuple vigour the stench now rose close to hand. "In with you," was the peremptory order. "Anything found in way of gold and silver belongs to Isuké; and caves are always rich in such finds."—"Is that so?" said thechūgen—"It is the tale of old books; which often lie. But in with you, and find out." Under spur of avarice and command Isuké crawled into the passage. He had gone but a bare ten feet when Shūzen heard a most fearful yell, saw the rapid progress outwards of the posteriors of Isuké. The man's face was chalk white—"Deign, Danna Sama, to go no further." He choked for utterance. "How now!" said Shūzen in pretended astonishment. "Fox or badger? They were to be converted into soup for Katai Isuké, soft food for his grinders."—"For fox or badger Isukécares not. He invites their presence.... Kiya!" Shūzen in sport had placed a cold wet hand on his neck. "Ah! The Danna jests. Of fox and badger soup is made. With human stench it is not savoured. There is a dead body within. Hence the frightful odour."
Shūzen at once began to twist his head towel around his nose. With feeblest protest Isuké saw him take the torch and disappear into the passage. Soon his voice was heard. "Isuké! Isuké! Is he milk livered? How about the gold and silver? Would Isuké abandon it?" Isuké would not. In a trice he was on hands and knees, to rejoin his master who was roaring with laughter. "Gold and silver may be here," Shūzen explained. "Otherwise Isuké would have backed out of the undertaking, all the way to the cave's entrance. Turn the body over. See whether it is of man or woman." Much put out Isuké did as he was bid. "Pfugh! Stirring does no good. The very flesh is melting from the bones. The hair of the beard and head show it to be a man." Shūzen turned to a wider passage, plainly due in part to hand. By crouching he could enter into a larger chamber. In wonder and admiration he called to Isuké. In so far, thechūgenwould pursue the venture. Besides would he not follow his master to Meido itself? "Look, Isuké! Such groining of the roof is only made by Nature's hand. The cave of Fudō Sama at Meguro shows no finer sight." He pointed to the mass of interlacing roots of some hugeichōrising from the ground above. Isuké grumbled assent, without much vigour. He was getting tired of this adventure. It was a satisfaction they could go no further. Shūzen meanwhile was rummaging the place, which evidently had been a kind of dwelling. In a closet were found some coarse cooking utensils and crockery for food. A supply of firewood in one corner, and a box, completed the furniture. With curiosity Shūzen turned over the books in the box. A cry brought Isuké to his side. "Your share, Isuké." He pointed to three shining silverryōwhich lay below the scrolls. Isuké looked incredulous at the find. Then he prostrated himself before his master in deepest gratitude. With joy he pocketed the coin and shouldered the scrolls. There was nothing more to do. They sought the open air.
The strange sight reported to him, Beita Heima thekarōappeared before his master. In the early morning light Shūzen was pouring buckets of cold water over Isuké, having himself undergone the same treatment at thechūgen'shands. "Kan mairi, Heima,"[7]said Shūzen with a laugh. Then he explained matters to the astonishedkarō. Isuké's further ablutions were left to other hands. The affair now was cleared up. The removal of the slab, the fresh air penetrating the cavern, made the removal of the body easy. This was to be sent to Bankei's care for proper burial and rites. Meanwhile Shūzen with interest and increasing gravity examined his prize. The books were all on war. One was in the suspected script of the western barbarian. From its plates, it was a work on fortification, and the art of attack and defence. Shūzen did not understand the Dutch words, but he regarded the find as of importance, at least as adding to his own merit. So likewise did Abé Bungo no Kami, minister for the month, and with a great liking for Shūzen. He saw to it that the affair was to the latter's profit. TheOmetsukéinspected the books, inspected the cave, drank Shūzen's wine, and commended the vigilance and energy of thehatamoto. The report was worth an added hundredkokuto his modest income. Isuké also counted his gains with joy; a means of continued defiance and pursuit of the foxes of the Nakano pleasure quarter.
As to Bankei—the funeral rites had been performed, thesutraread, the body inhumed in the same mound with those of Kakunai and the horse. Liberal had been the gift of Okumura Shūzen for all these divers interments, and great the unction of Bankei at the accomplishment and solution of the mystery of the cave in the Banchō. But one thing rested uneasily on his mind. What the identity of the evil spirit which caused these wonders? That night, as the abbot rested in his bed, there appeared at his pillow a man of some thirty odd years, tall, gaunt, hairy, ugly, and much dejected. "His eyes were prominent in his head, his lofty nose showed ability, he had the mouth of a shark." Plainly very great had been his wickedness.Prostrate the apparition gave thanks to the saint. All the spice and joy of evil doing had been exchanged for the insipidity of Paradise. Now he was threatened with Nirvana through the prayers of the saintly abbot. In life he had been the wicked Sōja Mushuku (lodgeless). A famous thief, he was the source of the raids on purse and person, onyashikiin particular and the common people in general, which had caused much fear and distress in Edo. The cave of the Inari, a lucky discovery, had been his safe haunt from pursuit. None could betray him, for none of his band knew his lair. He would betray no one; but he would tell the abbot of his fate. It was Isuké who had sealed him up in the cave by thrusting into place the heavy cover. Here he passed miserable days in hunger until the poisonous air, gradually accumulating, had put an end to him. His spirit, however, had haunted the place, with no disposition to leave. With the opportunity he had entered the body of Kagé, in search of human requirements and enjoyments. Betrayed by appetite he had been driven forth by the prayers of the abbot, and solaced by his petitions for the future life. Deign to let the matter rest there, and not pursue him into the inanity, the nothingness of Nirvana. To this the practiced ear of the holy Bankei gave deep thought. This fellow already had forced the unhappy Kakunai to follow in his tracks. What might he not do to others in whom the abbot had far greater interest? "To such wickedness the gift of Nirvana is not likely. Bankei wastes his breath, and Shūzen Dono his substance. Deign to enter Meido, be wholly purified of wickedness, and in a second birth, if in human form, be of a virtuous House. For present and past sins atonement is to be made. For those still living Bankei holds not his lips silent. Off with you at once to these insipid joys." He thrust the rosary of crystal beads into the vision's face. At once it disappeared, and Bankei woke amid a nauseating odour. He stretched himself in weariness—"A dream? Tribulation of the Five Viscera?" Yet he would report it to Shūzen, and on the uncertainty of the truth secure further aid for man and horse. Hence the monument of the Batō (horse-headed) Kwannon, which long stood on its mound behind thehondōof the Seishōji of Shiba.
These events could not fail to cause comment. It was in the general room of thehiban, the fire guard of the castle, that the discussion came to a head. There were a number of these guards for different quarters of the castle inclosure; and for better drill and coordination the officers met, apart from the site of their particular duties. This made the office of thehibana sort of club of thehatamoto, bringing together the members of the more particular cliques, known respectively as the Shiratsukagumi (white handle club), the Kingingumi (gold and silver clubs), the members of which knocked out a conspicuous tooth, replacing it with the metal ensign of their affiliation, and the Kubo no Shiro-oshigumi. These organizations, something like the Otokodaté of the townsmen in the closeness of the relations of their members, had by no means the same worthy object. They were often merely a way of ruffling it through the town, particularly at the amusement quarter of Asakusa; seeking quarrels withrōnin, abusing women, and literally gravelling the discomfited townsmen, not seldom left on the ground, subsequently to be put into it. The Otokodaté, or chivalrous band, were indeed needed in this state of early Edo. They could hold their own, inasmuch as thesamuraiinvolved dared not bring a quarrel to light. He had the advantage of his training; and by the rules of his caste did not hesitate to have assassinated a plebeian he could not overcome, and chose to regard as impertinent. Collisions with these, however, were rare.Rōninwere the particular object of dislike of the Tokugawa adherents. It was the great exception made, when Hida no Kami (Yagyū Matajurō) admitted Kumé no Heinai to his fencing room and discipleship. Therōnin, of course, deserved the proscription, being often the devoted adherents of a lost cause—Hoōjō orToyotomi—and unwilling to transfer their fealty to a second lord. The most noted and hated of therōnin, though free from any taint of rebellion to the Tokugawa, was this Heinaibei; the vilest assassination, that of his friend Bandzuin Chōbei by Mizuno Jurōzaémon aided by other members of the Shiratsukagumi.
Endō Saburōzaémon had related the mishap of hischūgen, his own experience in pursuing the offenders. The old fellows, heroes of the Genwa and Kwanei periods, were gathered close to ahibachi. Despite the season age sought pretence of warmth or closer company. Said the veteran Matsudaira Montarō—"Ōkubo, what think you? Surely the ice water of gathering years runs in our veins. Such happenings, so close to the dwelling of the Ue Sama, never would have taken place in former days. But we are old. The stiffened joints and the wrinkles would not deceive such miscreants. 'Twould be a palpable fraud, our presentation."—"True," growled Shichinosuké; "but ice water runs in other veins than those who are old." Kondō Noborinosuké, verging toward his fifties, now chimed in—"Naruhodo! The talk of these young chaps infects one with their own complaints. This one can but thump himself on the chest and speculate as to whether he has one lung, or two of the kind. This other limps and dreams ofkakké. His tongue hangs out a yard, that he can better inspect its colour; and his legs are black and blue from efforts to detect a dropsy. A third excuses himself by a flux, which he would cure with hot wine; and a fourth is assured of a cold, to lead to all these and other ailments, and hence steeps himself night and day in the hot bath, the one to be most easily excused. Emma Dai-Ō in Hell[8]could not afflict these fellows more than they grieve over themselves. Only in talk of their ailments do they find company. Plasters and medicaments for their persons, instead of armour and the quietus of the foe, these are the objects of their quest." The two old rascals, and their middle aged abettor, looked slyly over each other's heads at the younger men grouped in the rear, then at each other. Thus it was with these violent fellows of the actual battlefield. They would stir someone to action.
"Heigh! Heigh! Not Endō Uji: he at least has proved his mettle. The pressing offices of the day do not call for sleep all night. He is of the stock of Kiémon Dono. Old Hikoza never tired of tales of his father's prowess." Kondō chuckled as he continued—"The old fellow (oyaji) spoke well of the dead. The living had need to take care of his praise of them. Witness Torii Dono and Akiyama Dono, at the two extremes of age. Good luck, as well as management, extricated them from the results of a commendation like to cost them much. Alas! His place is not to be filled." Ōkubo Hikozaémon, governor of these wild fellows, keeper of the suzerain's conscience, had left his seat vacant these past five years. Sorrow for his loss did not prevent Noborinosuké bringing a bright and beady eye on Aoyama Shūzen. Ōkubo Shichinosuké followed the look. All of the old ones fastened Shūzen with inquisitive glare. The object of their attention neither quailed nor showed undue eagerness. "The honoured ancients favour this Shūzen with the task." His laugh was so cold and purposeful, his look so derisive and comprehending, that the old fellows in some confusion sought comfort in each other. This Aoyama Shūzen was a very devil of a fellow. He had a perspicacity in finesse that the plain, keen, and honest bluntness of former days could not deceive. Aoyama was not one to charge with effeminacy in any form. He had a wife—whom he neglected. He had a page, whom he favoured. He had all the harsh vices and capabilities of the warrior age. Turning to Endō Saburōzaémon—"Endō Uji has seen the vision, not fox ortanuki. This has been the experience of thechūgen?" Saburōzaémon did not like the connection; nor did he like Shūzen. "It is fact. Rokuzo was bewitched, not Endō. See to it that Aoyama Dono has better luck." Thus tacitly he would force the mission on Shūzen. The latter suppressed his anger at the assumption. "Endō Dono, as with this Shūzen, ishatamotoof the land. Such vile rascals as these do not make them object of their tricks."—"Don't be too sure of that," replied Endō. "Neither fox nortanukiwould care for the company of the vision. This Saburōzaémondoes but seek to give it rest—and himself." He spoke with some gloom. Said Aoyama with decision—"Agreed! What may be the reward?" A chorus of protest went up. "Reward! Reward!... The applause of all.... The interest in the tale, as with that of Endō Dono, just recited." But Shūzen smiled and shook his head—"Endō Dono seeks the good will of an unworshipped demon." Saburōzaémon shot a glance at him. "Shūzen too has his object. Otherwise, let others volunteer." The force of what he said was made plain by the silence of the company. The stories told, none longed for the experience. Thought Montarō testily—"This fellow always has something in his sleeve." With hesitation—"Endō deserves reward, and claims it not. Aoyama would have it in advance. How now: a sword?" All looked inquisitively at Shūzen. They were surprised and disgruntled at his gesture of dissent. He knew the ancients, and could suspect a trap. "Shūzen knows the kind. As with buying radishes at Yanagibara; one good for nothing, and bringing anything but honour.... Shūzen selects his own weapon, nor asks reward apart from the issue." Kondō Noborinosuké clapped his hands. The younger man was a favourite and kindred spirit of his own, near enough in age to be congenial. "The presiding chair at the Endurance Society meeting. We aresamurai,hatamotoof the land. Gold is not to the purpose. A sword is bought with gold. Let Aoyama Uji make report to the meeting, and on that hang the office." Shūzen was the first to nod eager assent. All agreed; with no great joy at prospect of the coming test, yet afraid of his refusal. Thus the company separated, committed to a meeting of the Gaman Kwai at the house of Noborinosuké, to hear the report of Aoyama Shūzen's venture into the Banchō.
His preparations made, the next night, at the hour of the rat (11-1a.m.), saw Aoyama in his turn climbing the slope of the Gomizaka. Attached to the immediate service of the palace, the place was very desolate and strange to him. At a loss where to look for the objects of his search he sauntered at random, attention drawn to footing in this darkness. Thus it was that the Gekkeiji bell sounded over the moorland, striking the first watch of the hour of the ox (3a.m.).He stopped to listen his eye fixed at the time on the long line of wall and fine gate of abessō-yashiki(country villa), evidently of a great lord. He had passed from here some little distance, to the turning of the wall, when hasty steps and the hard breathing of one who had just breasted the hill struck his ear. Shūzen standing at the corner was almost knocked down by the dark bulk which bounded out of the shadow. Both parties sprang back in attitude of watchfulness. Shūzen had never seen such a fellow. At least seven feet in height, hairy of arms and legs and face, his eyes shone like bright mirrors. Bulging forth these made him like to the ghost of some huge dragon fly. Did he not have an eye in the middle of his forehead? Shūzen could not have denied it. Of size to inspire fear, decidedly the rascal was to be suspected. Shūzen was the first to question. "Who and where from? Answer at once, or this Aoyama deigns the death cut." The man, or monster, merely opened and shut the plate like eye holes. Then with a roaring derisive lip—"Ha! Ha! This is Tanuki-baké, come hither to find and fetch Aoyama."
"Ya! Ya!" Aoyama was in a great rage. In the act of drawing his sword he would cut the rascal down. Thus to insult ahatamotoof the land, lord of twelve hundredkoku! "Make ready!" Apparition or not, at a bound the man was some ten feet off. Then followed a space, during which Shūzen made every effort known to the fencing room. He would have impaled a real dragon fly more readily. Without attempt to flee the object merely darted hither and thither. Shūzen was dripping with perspiration. He felt badly and discouraged. For a moment he would rest—"To see this Aoyama?" He grunted. "Just so," was the reply. "Fools at close quarters give entertainment. Aoyama is not the clever one to cut down thetanuki-baké(badger-ghost). Get you hence to your quilts, good sir; to your fool companions who wear summer garb in depth of winter, and triple garments in the heats of the sixth and seventh months; stuff themselves with hot food and wine in summer, and freeze the viands andsakéin winter. Get you hence to your companions of the Gaman Kwai (Endurance Society). Make report to them of Aoyama's venture, and bray andbrag to them of spending a night outside the sheets." Shūzen strove to be calm on receipt of these insults to his kind. In haughty condescension he explained—"Those of the Gaman Kwai wearkatabira(light summer wear) in winter, triple gear in summer, to undergo the hardships of the battlefield. In war one regards not heat or cold. He drinks from the puddle on the field, and cooks the rice straw for food in his helmet. This is the great time of peace. The experiences and the hardships of the battlefield are lacking. It is as substitute for these...." He was interrupted by a mighty burst of impolite merriment from the heavy man, who held his sides as like to split from laughter. "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Naruhodo! These chitterlings; stuffed sausages! 'Sufferings of the battlefield; hardships'! They are not to encountered in such childish sport. He who would face these must practise the art of the inner belly (mind). It is by hardening the belly that the trials of war are met. You fellows practise but the outer cult. Of the inner and secret precepts you are ignorant. Degraded fools (bakéyarō)!"—"Shut up!" roared Shūzen. He could take the fellow at a disadvantage in his fit of outrageous merriment. Close to hand he leaped on him. In effort to avoid the blow the miscreant tumbled head over heels into the close deep wavingsuzukigrass. With satisfaction Aoyama felt the sword sink deep into the resisting substance. Great his disgust to find that he had cleft an old and hidden stump to the very root. He seated himself upon it.
At least he was in the centre of disturbance. Should he await further encounter, or depart elsewhere to find it. He had a mind to abandon the lanes and plunge into the waste land. Just then screams and cries were heard; the sound of rapid flying feet coming in his direction. A young woman in flight was now close at hand. Her hair unbound streamed behind her. She was in night clothes, and the knot of the narrowobior band come loose in her flight, exposed a figure all attraction. On reaching Aoyama she threw herself at his feet, clasping his knees. "Aid! Aid from the honouredsamurai! Thieves breaking in threaten with death and pillage. Deign, honoured sir, to aid." Shūzen was very willing to do so. The ladywas very urgent and very beautiful. He himself was uncertain as to goal, and the matter of the ghost could wait on her extremity. To his inquiry she made reply—"Just yonder." With her he retraced his steps. To his surprise the gate of theyashiki, already noticed, was wide open. In all haste she urged him to the entrance, yet in his rapid passage he seemed to have seen this place before. The girl gave a call, then another. Shūzen joined her in chorus and the search. The mansion was thrown wide open and abandoned. Not a soul was to be seen. All had either been killed, or had fled. The wailing of the girl brought him to her side. Prostrate she lay on the bodies of an old man and old woman, who had been put to death without mercy by the miscreants. Great was the pity of Aoyama. "The bodies still smoke in blood; the perpetrators cannot be far off. It would be well to seize them. This lantern ... how now? Is it of the house?" The girl raised her head to observe it. "No," she said. "The house lanterns have not the bow handle. This is of the thieves.... What's that?" A noise was heard above. Aoyama, hand on his sword, sprang to the stairway. The girl, all smiles at the prospective vengeance, followed him.
Three fellows were busy at the closets and chests. The contents were scattered over the floor, evidently for purpose of selection. Aoyama burst upon them. "Heigh-ho! Vile rascals! Submit your necks at once to the blow, your arms to the cord." At first the pillagers were greatly astonished and put out. "Asamurai! Our work is interfered with. Alas! We must away." Said the leader, a determined looking fellow—"Umph! 'Tis nothing but a board wagessamurai(sampin). He is alone. Kick him down. Teach him the lesson of interference." With yells all made for Shūzen. Disregarding those at the side he delivered his blow at the man in front. Kiya! He split him in two as one would green bamboo. Shūzen drew back with a side sweep which cut another clean across the girdle. He stopped to rub his eyes with amazement. Was it not witchcraft? Not three, but five men now confronted him; and lively rascals they were. Strive as he would Aoyama's blows seemed but to multiply his foes. He was but oneman. A kick to this side sent a rascal flying to the wall; an elbow shot sent another through the screens. Then all took to flight. One closely pursued sought the roof, the drying frame its heights. Aoyama was about to cut him down, when the fellow sprang off into the darkness like a flying bird. At the same time came most urgent and piteous cries from below. "Danna Sama! HonouredSamuraiSama! Deign rescue. The thieves! They force me to extremities." Reluctant Shūzen turned back. On reaching the lower stair he came upon the rascals who were gathered round the girl. At sight of him all took to flight. To Shūzen's astonishment the girl in her turn fled in pursuit. Out of the house rushed the whole band, Shūzen joining in the mad race. Down the slope went all. Then dobun!... Shūzen's foot caught in a hole, or root, or some obstacle. Head first he went into the ditch. Struggling, gasping, spitting out the dirty water of the drain, Aoyama scrambled up on the bank. He looked around in amazement. The white light of dawn illuminated the scene; the ill fated tree stump and the dirty drain close by. House there was none. Girl and thieves had disappeared. He stood on the moor, shivering in Nippon's always cool dawn and dripping wet with the filthy fluid of the ditch or stream flowing through these fields and the valley. With discomfiture he took his long way homewards to the Dōsanbashi. Plainly he had been bewitched and derided. So believing, he was startled to find himself again before theyashikigate; but in the light of day it showed the obvious neglect of years. Shūzen at once sought entrance, not by the gate, but over the wall for lack of other means. He recognized the scene of last night's exploit, and its description as given by Endō Saburōzaémon. Besides, he recognized the place in his own experience of long past years, the favour and support of one to whom he was much indebted. Ah! Truly these were dangerous rascals he had encountered.
Aoyama Shūzen was not likely to brag of this exploit. All day he sat biting his thumbs, and drinking wine to obviate the effect of his nasty bath. An idea began to crystallize in his brain. But this matter pressed. The preparations for the night were to be made. He hoped for better luck in his vengeance on the miscreants. The watch of the rat again saw him skirting the Ushigafuchi on his way to the Banchō. He had just started up the slope of the Gomizaka when he heard steps behind him. Oya! Oya! Twochūgenand a lady. About these there was nothing suspicious. But the lantern they carried? It was marked with themitsuba-aoi, or triple leaf holly hock crest of the suzerain's House. Plainly the bearers were on mission from one of the San Ke (Princes of the Blood), or perhaps from the palace itself. Reverence must be done to the lantern. On his present mission, and thus arrayed, Aoyama sought to avoid notice. He disappeared into the longsuzukigrass at the road side. He could hear the lady express her anxiety and haste. Then with curiosity Aoyama watched their strange behavior. A bare sixty feet beyond they came to a halt. The lady shrank back as in terror. Haténa! Aoyama recognized him by his size, the antagonist and critic of the previous night. Without delay, or giving time for flight, the huge ruffian with one hand grasped the bosom of the lady's dress, with the other the arm of achūgen. A kick sent the other fellow very willingly to the ground. Tremendous was the apparition as he towered over his victims. He seemed taller than ever. His hair stood out like iron wire. His mouth grinned open wide from ear to ear; and now Aoyama could see distinctly the horns sprouting from his temples. Did he not have claws? Aoyama could not remember.
He would rescue the lady, beautiful of course. Rapidly passing through the grass Aoyama burst out upon the group. He took aim at the knave's breast bone. "Yai!" The fellow let go. The two prisoners, thrust violently into the knees of Shūzen, brought him to the ground. When he had recovered balance the rascal had disappeared. The lady was in a dead faint. Onechūgenseemed to be dead. The other was squatting at some distance, eyes saucer like in fright. He regarded Aoyama with grave suspicion. Thesamuraicalled to him. "Here you! Your mistress has fainted. Water at once!" But the fellow did nothing but answer "Hei! Hei!" without sign of motion. "Don't sit and purr like a cat," roared Shūzen. "Off with you, and fetch water." At last the man took courage to approach. "Alas! Danna Sama, this Banchō, where the thieves are apparitions, and apparitions turn to women, frightens this Isuké."—"Fear or no fear, water must be had. Such milk livered fellows are not for man's work. Weakness of loins won't do. Off with you."—"But how?"—"In your scabbard, fool." For answer thechūgenmade a wry face and tugged at his weapon. As often the case with those men, it was of wood. Shūzen laughed. Then he gave his own scabbard to thechūgen. Off the fellow crawled, with gait and speed of a maimed insect.
Meanwhile what was to be done. Shūzen put his hand into the bosom of the lady, and rummaged. Women were always dosing and fainting. Doubtless she was provided for such contingency. Surely a perfume reached his nostrils. Ah! Here it was. He drew out the fragrant package. Medicine without doubt. The drug savoured strongly of musk. At last the fellow was on hand with the liquid. Shūzen made a pellet from the drug. "Raise up your mistress. Take her in your arms." But the man drew away in horror. He prostrated himself flat on the ground. "Deign forbearance. To touch with a finger one of the ladies of the palace is not to be ventured."—"Ah! Is that so?" grunted Shūzen. "Circumstances of course don't alter cases. He who will not touch a woman is usually a most lecherous rascal." With this comment he roughly shoved aside the awkward efforts of this meticulous attendant. Taking the operation upon himself, he gently pressed theback of the lady's neck, forcing her to open her mouth. Inserting the drug he poured in water from the scabbard. A sudden slap on the back and down went the bolus. The lady opened and shut her eyes. Then they remained open. "Be firm," commented Aoyama Sensei. "Thanks," replied the dame. "Ah! What fright! With hand on dagger was this Banchō entered on. So near, how suspect misfortune at hand? Truly honoured sir, great your trouble and inconvenience."
Aoyama accepted the thanks, to satisfy curiosity. "But so late abroad ... and doubtless of the honoured San Ke...." Replied the lady—"The mission was of Kishū Ke, said to be of grave import. Hence the late hour of the night. This insignificant person is lady in waiting at the San no Ma of the palace; Takigawa by name. Theyashikiof Okumura Shūzen, my father, lies close at hand. Great the cowardice shown by this Taki." Shūzen grasped the whole affair. Between Kishū Ke and the parent House the feeling in those days was none too good. Grave suspicion on the part of one, angry resentment on that of the other. He would see more of the matter. It was his duty ashatamoto. "To go abroad withchūgenis no safe thing. At this hour and placesamuraicould well have been taken as company. As for courage—of that kind it is not expected of a woman. Valour was shown in undertaking the mission. And this fellow...." He turned sharply to thechūgenand pointed to his fellow. "Mujina-také."—"What!" roared Shūzen. He looked fromchūgento lady, and from lady tochūgen. They seemed surprised. Stammered the man in fright—"It is but a nickname. His name is Také, and he is very worthless. Hence he is called Tanuki-také. I am called Yōkai Isuké (Apparition Isuké), being nothing but wind." Aoyama grunted a ready assent to this self critic. The fellow's ignorance and cowardice was as gross as the material flesh which Shūzen tested with a well applied kick in the buttocks, bringing Isuké in position to render first aid to his companion. This was done by passing on the application. A vigorous snort followed the thump on the back administered to Mujina. He sat up and regarded his mate with astonishment. "Ah! The Yōkai.... Nomore of that. 'Tis Mujina's turn." This, when his fellow proposed a second application. The return came sooner than anticipated. A terrific sneeze followed. Up came his head sharply, and theyōkairolled over backwards on the ground. He rose in fury, holding his jaw. Shūzen was laughing, the lady smiling. "The distance is but short? Plainly those fellows are next to worthless. This Shūzen will act as guard." Thus did Aoyama go in company to theyashikiof Okumura Shūzen; and thus was his second night's venture brought to naught.
The arrival of the Ojōsama (lady daughter) in company with Aoyama caused much excitement. Okumura was of five hundredkoku; Aoyama of twelve hundredkoku. The latter was at once ushered to the inner apartments. The lady wife of Okumura came forward to urge his stay for some entertainment. Aoyama in turn was curious to know more of this mission in connection with ahatamotolike himself. He spoke gravely of the dangers in this neighbourhood, apart from the strange tales told. Okumura Shūzen heartily agreed. The charge being to Kishū Ke was not to be declined. Himself he had many strange tales to relate. Though the hour was late, every effort was made. Aoyama Shūzen was gratified with a beautiful repast. The wine was served in person by Takigawa Dono. The talk passed from personal affairs to tales of war. Here Aoyama was in his element, both from experience and the tales of others heard in thehibanand at the meetings of the Gaman Kwai. This was a first meeting, not to be too long drawn out. Okumura was a new comer in the Banchō, his service was in connection with the public works. Aoyama had been of the palace staff until very recently. Both expressed deepest gratification at their encounter. As he took his way home in the morning light, Aoyama Shūzen could but contrast with pleasure his present arrival with that of the previous morning. He had feasted well, and made an acquaintance of some value.
The following day he would make his acknowledgments. Aping no great style he walked accompanied by a page and twochūgen. Inquiry soon brought him to theyashiki. Inquiry soon introduced him to a sitting room. "Lucky fellow!" thoughtAoyama. "The influence of Matsudaira Kō lands him in affluence. A modest income; a doubleyashiki!" This part of the house was different from that of his last night's introduction. Then he stated his business to thekarō. The night before he had accompanied the Ojōsan to theyashiki. He would make acknowledgment of the courtesy then received. The face of old Beita Heima was a puzzle. Deep the respect due to twelve hundredkokuAoyama, but had he been drunk or dreaming?—"Has not your lordship mistaken theyashiki?" Aoyama was a little severe at what seemed gratuitous assumption. "You were not on the guard last night." Beita spoke, prostrate and with great respect, but with an earnestness and obstinacy not to be mistaken. He had been on the guard—from sunset to dawn. Aoyama began to feel uncomfortable. Veiling the sharpness—"Is this not theyashikiof Okumura Dono?" Heima gulped assent. "Is not Takigawa Dono, of the San no Ma, the Ojōsan of the House?" Here Heima was on sure ground. "Ojōsan of the House there is none. It is very rude; but surely there is mistake as to theyashiki." Aoyama now was beginning to see light. He felt very hot and uncomfortable. He ventured a last question for surety. "And Okumura Dono?"—"The Tono Sama absent in Shimosa, theyashikihas been in this Heima's charge for this past month's course." With such grace as he could in his discomfiture Aoyama Shūzen took his leave. The astonished page andchūgen, still retaining the intended presents of acknowledgment, with difficulty kept up with their master. Ah! The beasts again had scored. Detestable! Shūzen thought with horror of his repast of the previous night. He had no better fare than Rokuzo thechūgen. In rage he sought his room, and swallowed all the purges and emetics to hand. Occupied in retching, and thinking, and other matters germane to his condition, he concocted the plan by which he hoped to bring the foe to book, and himself to the presiding chair which surely he had earned.
With the fall of Ōsaka castle (1615), and the culmination of the uneasy movements of the years following in the conspiracy of Honda Masazumi, the country entered on a long peace—the Tokugawa Taihei. The Arima rebellion after all was but an affair of farming folk, in far off Kyūshū. Masazumi struck right at the person of the Shōgun himself. A special ceiling was constructed in his castle at Utsunomiya. This was to collapse on the sleeping Iyemitsu Kō sheltered beneath it. Caught between the heavy boulders above and beneath the couch, the Shōgun was to be sent to rest with, not worship of, his divinized grandfather at Nikkō. Iyemitsu slept the night at Edo castle, owing to the valour and strength of Ishikawa Hachiémon. Masazumi had failed, and the set field of battle between the factions of thesamuraiwas a thing of the past. The duel, forbidden in theory and compulsory in practice, was to take its place. The substitute always had existed. It tried men's courage, not the sustained endurance of campaigning. How then was the old spirit of the warrior to be maintained? The desire to emulate their sires worked on the younger generation. The relics of the Tenshō, Keichō and Genwa periods (1573-1623) Ōkubo Hikozaémon, Matsudaira Montarō, Nagasaki Chiyari Kurō, were heroes who could boast of having stood before the horse of Iyeyasu in his earlier trials of battles, trials in which the veteran commander would pound with his fist the pommel of the saddle until it was red with the blood from his bruised knuckles. Their tales of actual war, the sly jeers at the softening manners, spurred on younger members to find ways by which to simulate practical experience of campaigning. The result was curious. One of the organizations was the Undameshi Kwai, or Fortune Testing Society. Loaded firelockswere stacked in the middle of the room of meeting. Around them sat the members of the club, squeezed into full armour, from helmet to the warriors shoes of skin. The match was set. The weapons were exploded, sending a shower of balls in every direction. "Ah! Ha! The bullet grazed my helmet."—"The gorgelet caught it."—"The corselet has saved me."—"Congratulations are in order. Surely your pension will be increased during the year."—"Oya! Oya! And Genzaémon Uji?" The unfortunate Genzaémon had not fared so well in the mimic war. At all events he sat the meeting out—if he could. To be reported dead, in the course of duty; or be overcome with regrets at showing such clumsiness in being wounded; or, if actually incapacitated, to go home and die of "illness" (cut belly).[9]
The Gaman Kwai, or Endurance Society, was another form the movement took. In the season of great cold its meetings were held as if in the height of thedoyōor dog days; vice-versa with the time of great heat. It was the beginning of the seventh month (first half of August). The heat was intense, and had been for the past weeks. The farmer watched the steamy vapour rising from the rice fields and rejoiced. The plants were growing luxuriantly, the leaves of the willow trees were hanging yellow and wilted. Passers by on city or village streets sought the shade under the buildings, walking with languid lagging step, and, home once reached, removing every garment which etiquette—not decency—had hitherto compelled. Great was the dismay of the weaker members of the Gaman Kwai on receipt of a circular letter couched much as follows: