noto, an unexplored corner of japan-第8部分

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The　new　road　is　not　without　its　sensation　to　such　as　dislike　looking

down。　　Fortunately；　the　jinrikisha　men　have　not　the　instinct　of

packmules　to　be　persistently　trifling　with　its　outer　edge。

In　addition　to　the　void　at　the　side；　another　showed　every　now　and　then

in　front；　where　a　dip　and　a　turn　completely　hid　the　road　beyond。

The　veritable　end　of　the　world　seemed　to　be　there　just　ahead；　close

against　the　vacancy　of　space。　　A　couple　of　rods　more　and　we　must　step

offindeed　the　end　of　the　world　for　us　if　we　had。　



When　the　road　came　to　face　the　Oya　shiradzu；　ko　shiradzu；　it　attacked

the　rise　by　first　running　away　from　it　up　a　stream　into　the　mountains；

a　bit　of　the　wisdom　of　the　serpent　that　enabled　it　to　gain　much

height　on　the　bend　back。　　Trees　vaulted　the　way　tapestrying　it　with

their　leaves；　between　which　one　caught　peeps　at　the　sea；　a　shimmer　of

blue　through　a　shimmer　of　green。　　The　path　was　strung　with　pedlars

and　pilgrims；　the　latter　of　both　sexes　and　all　ages；　under　mushroom

hats　with　their　skirts　neatly　tucked　in　at　the　waist；　showing　their

leggings；　the　former　doing　fulcrum　duty　to　a　couple　of　baskets　swung

on　a　pole　over　their　shoulders。　　The　pilgrims　were　on　their　way　back

from　Zenkoji。　　Some　of　them　would　have　tramped　over　two　hundred　miles

on　foot　before　they　reached　home　again。　　A　rich　harvest　they　brought

back；　religion；　travel；　and　exercise　all　in　one；　enough　to　keep　them

happy　long。　　I　know　of　nothing　which　would　more　persuade　me　to　be　a

Buddhist　than　these　same　delightful　pilgrimages。　　Fresh　air；　fresh

scenes　on　the　road；　and　fresh　faith　at　the　end　of　it。　　No　desert

caravan　of　penance　to　these　Meccas；　but　a　summer's　stroll　under　a

summer's　sky。　　An　end　that　sanctifies　the　means　and　a　means　that　no

less　justifies　its　end。　



While　we　were　still　in　the　way　with　these　pious　folk　we　touched　our

midday　halt；　a　wayside　teahouse　notched　in　a　corner　of　the　road

commanding　a　panoramic　view　over　the　sea。　　The　place　was　kept　by　a

deaf　old　lady　and　her　tailless　cat。　　The　old　lady's　peculiarity　was

personal；　the　cat's　was　not。　　No　self…respecting　cat　in　this　part　of

Japan　could　possibly　wear　a　tail。　　The　northern　branch　of　the　family

has　long　since　discarded　that　really　useless　feline　appendage。　　A　dog

in　like　circumstance　would　be　sadly　straitened　in　the　expression　of

his　emotions；　but　a　cat　is　every　whit　a　cat　without　a　continuation。　



With　the　deaf　old　lady　we　had；　for　obvious　reasons；　no　sustained

conversation。　　She　busied　herself　for　the　most　part　in　making　dango；

a　kind　of　dumpling；　but　not　one　calculated　to　stir　curiosity；　since

it　is　made　of　rice　all　through。　　These　our　men　ate　with　more　relish

than　would　seem　possible。　　Meanwhile　I　sat　away　from　the　road　where　I

could　look　out　upon　the　sea　over　the　cliffs；　and　the　cat　purred　about

in　her　offhand　way　and　used　me　incidentally　as　a　rubbing　post。　　Trees

fringed　the　picture　in　front；　and　the　ribbon　of　road　wound　off　through

it　into　the　distance；　beaded　with　folk；　and　shot　with　sunshine　and

shadow。　



I　was　sorry　when　lunch　was　over　and　we　took　leave　of　our　gentle

hostesses；　tabbies　both　of　them；　yet　no　unpleasing　pair。　　A　few　more

bends　brought　us　to　where　the　path　culminated。　　The　road　had　for　some

time　lain　bare　to　the　sea　and　sky；　but　at　the　supreme　point　some　fine

beeches　made　a　natural　screen　masking　the　naked　face　of　the　precipice。

On　the　cutting　above；　four　huge　Chinese　characters　stood　graved　in

the　rock。　



〃Ya　no　gotoku；　to　no　gotoshi。〃



〃Smooth　as　a　whetstone；　straight　as　an　arrow；〃　meaning　the　cliff。　

Perhaps　because　of　their　pictorial　descent；　the　characters　did　not

shock　one。　　Unlike　the　usual　branding　of　nature；　they　seemed　not　out

of　keeping　with　the　spot。　　Not　far　beyond；　the　butts　of　the　winter's

neve；　buried　in　dirt；　banked　the　path。　



For　miles　along　the　raod　the　view　off　was　superb。　　Nothing　bordered

one　side　of　the　way　and　the　mountain　bordered　the　other。　　Far　below

lay　the　sea；　stretching　away　into　blue　infinity；　a　vast　semicircle　of

ultramarine　domed　by　a　hemisphere　of　azure；　and　it　was　noticeable　how

much　vaster　the　sea　looked　than　the　sky。　　We　were　so　high　above　it　that

the　heavings　of　its　longer　swells　were　leveled　to　imperceptibility；

while　the　waves　only　graved　the　motionless　surface。　　Here　and　there

the　rufflings　of　a　breeze　showed　in　darker　markings；　like　the　changes

on　watered　silk。　　The　most　ephemeral　disturbance　made　the　most　show。　

Dotted　over　the　blue　expanse　were　black　spots；　fishing　boats；　and　a

steamer　with　a　long　trail　of　smoke　showed　in　the　offing；　stationary

to　the　eye；　yet　shifting　its　place　like　the　shadow　of　a　style　when

you　forgot　to　look。　　And　in　long　perspective　on　either　hand　stretched

the　battlement　of　cliff。　　Visual　immensity　lay　there　before　us；　in

each　of　its　three　manifestations；　of　line；　of　surface；　and　of　space。　



We　stood　still；　the　better　to　try　to　take　it　inthis　grandeur

tempered　by　sunshine　and　warmth。　　Do　what　he　will；　man　is　very　much

the　creature　of　his　surroundings　yet。　　In　some　instant　sense；　the

eyes　fashion　the　feelings；　and　we　ourselves　grow　broader　with　our

horizon's　breadth。　　The　Chaldean　shepherds　alone　with　the　night　had

grander　thoughts　for　the　companionship；　and　I　venture　to　believe　that

the　heart　of　the　mountaineer　owes　quite　as　much　to　what　he　is　forced

to　visage　as　to　what　he　is　compelled　to　do。　



We　tucked　ourselves　into　our　jinrikisha　and　started　down。　　By　virtue

of　going；　the　speed　increased；　till　the　way　we　rolled　round　the

curves　was　intoxicating。　　The　panorama　below　swung　to　match；　and　we

leaned　in　or　out　mechanically　to　trim　the　balance。　　Occasionally；　as

it　hit　some　stone；　the　vehicle　gave　a　lurch　that　startled　us　for　a

moment　into　sobriety；　from　which　we　straightway　relapsed　into

exhilaration。　　Curious　this；　how　the　body　brings　about　its　own

forgetting。　　For　I　was　conscious　only　of　mind；　and　yet　mind　was　the

one　part　of　me　not　in　motion。　　I　suppose　much　oxygen　made　me　tipsy。　

If　so；　it　is　a　recommendable　tipple。　　Spirits　were　not　unhappily

named　after　the　natural　article。　



It　was　late　afternoon　when　we　issued　at　last　from　our　two　days

Thermopylae　upon　the　Etchiu　plain。　　As　we　drew　out　into　its　expanse；

the　giant　peaks　of　the　Tateyama　range　came　into　view　from　behind

their　foothills；　draped　still　in　their　winter　ermine。　　It　was　last

year　yet　in　those　upper　regions　of　the　world；　but　all　about　us　below

throbbed　with　the　heartbeats　of　the　spring。　　At　each　mile；　amid　the

ever　lengthening　shadows；　nature　seemed　to　grow　more　sentient。　

Through　the　thick　air　the　peaks　stood　out　against　the　eastern　sky；　in

saffron　that　flushed　to　rose　and　then　paled　to　gray。　　The　ricefields；

already　flooded　for　their　first　working；　mirrored　the　glow　overhead

so　glassily　that　their　dykes　seemed　to　float；　in　sunset　illusion；

a　mere　bar　tracery　of　earth　between　the　sky　above　and　a　sky　beneath。　

Upon　such　lattice　of　a　world　we　journeyed　in　mid…heaven。　　Stealthily

the　shadows　gathered；　and　as　the　hour　for　confidences　drew　on；　nature

took　us　into　hers。　　The　trees　in　the　twilight；　just　breaking　into

leaf；　stood　in　groups　among　the　fields　and　whispered　low　to　one

another；　nodding　their　heads；　and　then　from　out　the　shadow　of　the　May

evening　came　the　croaking　of　the　frogs。　　Strangely　the　sound　fitted

the　hour；　with　its　like　touch　of　mysterious　suggestion。　　As　the

twilight　indefinite；　it　pervaded　everything；　yet　was　never　anywhere。　

Deafening　at　a　distance；　it　hushed　at　our　approach　only　to　begin

again　behind　us。　　Will…o'…the…wisp　of　the　ear；　infatuating　because

forever　illusive！　　And　the　distance　and　the　numbers　blended　what　had

perhaps　been　harsh　into　a　mellow　whole　that　filled　the　gloaming　with

a　sort　of　voice。　　I　began　to　understand　why　the　Japanese　are　so　fond

of　it　that　they　deem　it　not　unworthy　a　place　in　nature's　vocal

pantheon　but　little　lower　than　the　song　of　the　nightingale；　and　echo

its　sentiment　in　verse。　　And　indeed　it　seems　to　me　that　his　soul　must

be　conventionally　tuned　in　whom　this　even…song　of　the　ricefields

stirs　no　responsive　chord。　







VIII。　



Across　the　Etchiu　Delta。　



The　twilight　lingered；　and　the　road　threaded　its　tortuous　course　for

miles　through　the　rice　plain；　bordered　on　either　hand　by　the　dykes　of

the　paddyfields。　　Every　few　hundred　feet；　we　passed　a　farmhouse

screened　by　clipped　hedgerows　and　bosomed　in　trees；　and　at　longer

intervals　we　rolled　through　some　village；　the　country　pike　becoming

for　the　time　the　village　street。　　The　land　was　an　archipelago　of

homestead　in　a　sea　of　rice。　　But　the　trees　about　the　dwellings　so　cut

up　the　view；　that　for　the　moments　of　passing　the　mind　forgot　it　was

all　so　flat　and　came　back　to　its　ocean　in　surprise；　when　the　next

vista　opened　on　the　sides。　



Things　had　already　become　silhouettes　when　we　dashed　into

lantern…lighted　Mikkaichi。　　We　took　the　place　in　form；　and　a　fine

sensation　we　made。　　What　between　the　shouts　of　the　runners　and　the

clatter　of　the　chaises　men；　women　and　children　made　haste　to　clear　a

track；　snatching　their　little　ones　back　and　then　staring　at　us　as　we

swept　past。　　Indeed；　the　teams　put　their　best　feet　foremost　for　local

effect；　and　more　than　once　came　within　an　ace　of　running　over　some

urchin　who　either　would　not　or　could　not　get　out　of　the　way。　

Fortunately　no　casualties　occurred。　　For　it　would　have　been

ignominious　to　have　been　arrested　by　the　police　during　our　first　ten

minutes　in　the　town；　not　to　speak　of　the　sad　dampening　to　our

feelings　an　accident　would　have　caused。　



In　this　mad　manner　we　dashed　up　the　long　main　street。　　We　were　forced

to　take　the　side；　for　the　village　aqueduct　or　gutterit　served　both

purposesmonopolized　the　middle。　　At　short　intervals；　it　was　spanned

by　causeways　made　of　slabs　of　stone。　　Over　one　of　these　we　made　a

final　swirl　and　drew　up　before　the　inn。　　Then　our　shafts　made　their

obeisance　to　the　ground。　



A　warm　welc