Shank's Mare

by Ikku Jippensha

  'Does master buy a hundred coppers' worth at a time?' asked the postboy.

  'Don't talk nonsense,' replied Kita. 'We buy it by the cartload.'

  'Then how much can one get for a ryo?' asked the postboy.

  'What, one ryo?' said Kita. ' Let's see. Twice one is eight and twice five are ten and twice eight are sixteen, when she can be pressed, and four fives are twenty, when you can undo her girdle, which makes three to eight sho seven go five shaku.'

  'Eh?' said the postboy. 'The rice business in Edo must be very difficult. I don't understand it a bit.'

  'Of course you don't,' said Kita. 'No more do I. Ha-ha-ha!'

  While they were talking they arrived at Tenryū. The river here flows out of Lake Suwa and the town on the left bank is called Great Tenryū and that on the other bank Little Tenryū. A ferry connects the two towns. Here Kita found Yaji waiting for him and together they crossed the ferry.

  Leaving the boat on the other side they went through the town. This place is exactly half way between Edo and Kyōto and is therefore called Middle Town.

  From there they passed through Kyamba, Yakushi and Shinden. When they were near Toriimatsu they were met by an inn tout from Hamamatsu.

  'If you're stopping at the next stage, gentlemen,' he said, 'I can recommend my inn.'

  'We'll stop if you've got any nice girls,' said Kita.

  'We have many,' said the inn tout.

  'Will you give us something to eat if we stop?' asked Yaji.

  'To be sure I will,' answered the inn tout.

  'What kind of vegetables have you got?'

  'We are noted for our yams.'

  'They're common. Haven't you got anything else?'

  'Yes, we have mushrooms and water-leek.'

  'Have you got any beancurd soup with vegetables in it?' asked Kita.

  'No, no,' said Yaji. 'We want something lighter. We'll keep that to the hundredth day after.'

  'What strange things you say,' said the inn tout. 'Ha-ha-ha! But here we are.'

  'What, are we at Hamamatsu already?' said Yaji. 'I didn't think it.'

  The inn tout ran forward to announce that the guests had come and the landlord came out to welcome them.

  'Welcome, gentlemen,' he said. 'Welcome. Here, San, bring some tea and some hot water.'

  'Our feet are not so dirty as all that,' said Yaji.

  'Well then, please have a bath at once,' said the landlord.

  'Where's the mortuary?' asked Kita. 'Yaji, you'd better die first.'

  'What a chap he is for saying improper things,' said Yaji. 'You go first.'

  A maid conducted Kita to the bathroom, while Yaji was shown into a room and the baggage taken in.

  'Would you like to have a shampoo, sir?' asked a shampooer.

  'I think I will,' said Yaji. 'Halloa, I see you're not blind.'

  'No, sir, fortunately I can see quite well with one eye,' said the man. 'For ten years I was afflicted with total blindness and had to go round shampooing, till at last I got back the use of the left eye.'

  'When you got your sight back everybody must have looked strange to you,' said Yaji.

  'Yes,' replied the shampooer, 'they did.'

  'You'd better get the other eye treated,' said Yaji, 'and if it gets better you'll be able to see with two. Kita's a long time in the bath.'

  Just then Kita came back. 'I've had a fine bath,' he declared. 'It was so hot that it's made my body stretch.'

  After that the maid brought in the supper and there was more talk which I will not put down. At last supper was finished and Yaji, having had a bath, called the shampooer again.

  'Jut give me another rub down,' he said. 'By the way, as I was coming from the bath I saw a woman, —I suppose the mistress of the house. She looked rather ill and very untidy, but she was very beautiful.'

  'She's mad,' said the shampooer.

  'Don't they take care of her?' asked Kita.

  'Listen,' said the shampooer. 'She's saying her prayers.'

  They listened and could hear a prayer bell sounding endlessly from the direction of the kitchen.

  'She was a servant in this house,' the shampooer went on in a low voice. 'The landlord fell in love with her, which made his wife so jealous that she beat her and slapped her and finally turned her out of the house. But the landlord took pity on her and took her under his protection, which made his wife all the more angry, till finally she went mad and hanged herself. Then the landlord brought the girl back into the house again, and that night the ghost of the landlord's dead wife appeared and the girl went mad. That's why she prays endlessly every night.'

  Yaji and Kita pretended to be very brave on hearing this story, but at heart they were filled with fears.

  'What did you say?' asked Kita. 'The ghost appears in this very house?'

  'In this very house,' said the shampooer.

  'It's not true,' said Yaji.

  'It's quite true, I assure you,' said the shampooer. 'The ghost appears every night, all in white.'

  'Lor!' groaned Kita. 'What a place we've come to!'

  'Its face is just the colour of the woman who hanged herself,' the shampooer went on, 'and it has green eyes and it grinds its teeth just as if it was alive.'

  'Where does it appear?' asked Kita.

  'At the end of the verandah just behind you.'

  'Terrible, terrible!' groaned Kita. 'It gives you a shudder down your backbone.'

  'Isn't the sound of the rain mournful?' said Yaji.

  'It's just the sort of night for the ghost to appear,' said the shampooer.

  'Don't talk of such dreadful things,' said Kita.

  'The sound of that bell seems to go right through you,' said Yaji.

  'What a dreadful inn we've come to!' moaned Kita.

  'What timid chaps you are!' said the shampooer laughing.

  'Have you finished?' asked Yaji. 'Will you have a turn, Kita?'

  'I'm going to bed,' said Kita.

  The shampooer said good-night and went off and the maid spread their beds. All their jokes and idle talk forgotten, the two lay down, but could not get to sleep.

  'Listen to that bell,' said Yaji. 'Kita, don't you think we might start again now?'

  'What?' said Kita. 'Walk along that lonely road in the dark after hearing that story? Not me.'

  'But this house seems so eerie that it gives me the creeps,' said Yaji.

  They lay with their eyes wide open listening and were startled by the squeaking of the rats in the roof.

  'Even the rats want to frighten us,' said Kita. 'I've got to get up and relieve myself.'

  'I want to too,' said Yaji. 'Just listen to the rats. Yah! What's that soft thing touching my legs?'

  'Where? What?' asked Kita.

  'Miaou!' went the cat.

  'Shoo! Shoo! Get out, you beast,' cried Yaji.

  The interminable sound of the bell, chang-chang-chang, mingled with the pitter-pitter-patter of the rain on the eaves. Now and again they could hear the sound of the crier going round ringing his bell and calling for a lost child, but they covered their heads with the bedclothes and tried not to listen. At last Kita peeped out.

  'Yaji,' he whispered, 'are you still alive?'

  'Lord preserve us! Lord preserve us!' prayed Yaji. 'But I say I must get up or I shall do it in the bed.'

  'We're both in the same trouble,' said Kita.

  'Let's get up together without thinking about it,' suggested Yaji.

  'We can open the shutters and do it there,' said Kita.

  So they both got up trembling and opened the shutters.

  'There you are, Yaji,' said Kita.

  'No, no, you go first,' said Yaji.

  'There's something there,' said Kita, falling back. He had seen something white fluttering in a corner of the garden.

  'Where? What is it?' asked Yaji.

  'I don't know what it is,' said Kita, 'but it's there. Look for yourself.'

  'What is it?' asked Yaji.

  'It's something white s
tanding there. You can't see the bottom part.'

  Trembling with fear Yaji peeped out and was so startled by what he saw that he fell into the garden.

  'Here, Yaji, Yaji! Where are you?' called Kita.

  The noise they made brought the landlord running in from the kitchen, and he dragged Yaji in and helped to restore him to consciousness.

  'Whatever happened?' he asked.

  'We were just going outside to relieve ourselves when we saw something white in the corner,' explained Kita. 'It gave us quite a fright.'

  The landlord went out to have a look.

  'That's a white petticoat,' he said. 'Here, San, San! Why didn't you take the washing in when it grew dark. And it's been raining for a long time, too. How careless you are! I'm sorry you were frightened,' he added.

  'We really don't know what fear is,' said Yaji, 'but somehow to-night we got a bit nervous.'

  'Well, good-night,' said the landlord.

  'Oh dear!' said Yaji, as the landlord went off to the kitchen. 'I did have a fright.' Plucking up his courage he went to the end of the verandah and saw that it was really a woman's petticoat that was hanging there. Then the two, having done their business, went back to bed, and with their hearts relieved of fear fell into a sweet doze. They were just in the middle of a pleasant dream when they were awakened by the stout crowing of the cocks. Already the bells of the horses could be heard jingling and the songs of the postboys as they prepared for an early start:

  If you come to-night

  For you I'll wait;

  Steal round to the back,

  Don't try the front gate.

  Then came the whinnying of the horses and the caw-caw of the crows.

  'It's dawn already,' said Yaji.

  Forthwith he and Kita got up and having breakfasted started off again. Passing through the village of Wakabayashi they reached Shinohara, where Kita spied some rice-cakes covered with bean-flour.

  'How tasty they look,' he cried. 'Here, granny, give me some.'

  He took up one of the cakes and tried to bite it. 'Oh! it's hard,' he said.

  'That's the one kept for show, master,' said the old woman.

  'So it is,' said Kita looking at it. 'It's made of wood; no wonder it's hard.'

  'How many shall I give you?' asked the old woman.

  'Three will do,' said Kita.

  After paying for them he ran after Yaji, who had gone on ahead.

  'Yaji, Yaji,' he called.

  'What is it?' asked Yaji. 'Give us one if they're good.'

  'They're awfully good,' said Kita.

  'Well, let's have one then.'

  'Take one,' said Kita.

  But as he was holding them out on the palm of his hand a kite suddenly swooped down and snatched them away.

  'Ha-ha-ha!' laughed Yaji.

  'Botheration!' said Kita, 'the kites here must be teetotallers.'

  They passed Hasanuma and Tsuboi and reached Maisaka, where they embarked on the public ferryboat for Arai.

  Journeying by boat being a change after the labours of the road, all the passengers were at first very lively, talking and laughing and cracking jokes. But at last, weary of talking, some of them began to doze, while others fell silent looking at the scenery.

  Among the passengers was a countryman of about fifty, dressed in an old wadded garment, who seemed to have lost something, as he was continually looking under the passengers' knees or lifting up the matting on which they were sitting. At last he began feeling Yaji's sleeve.

  'What are you doing?' said Yaji, catching hold of his hand. 'What do you mean by feeling my sleeve?'

  'Beg your pardon,' said the man. 'It's nothing, it's nothing. I've only lost something.'

  'Then you should ask people first before you claw them,' said Kita. 'If you brought it on to the boat it must be somewhere. What is it? Tobacco box or pipe?'

  'No, no,' said the man. 'It's nothing like that.'

  'Perhaps it's some money you've lost,' said Kita.

  'No, no,' said the man. 'It's nothing like that. We'd better not say anything more about it. It doesn't matter.'

  'If it doesn't matter,' said Yaji, 'why do you go about disturbing people when they're dozing?'

  Then all the people on the boat began asking, 'What is it? Tell us what you've lost. It must be here somewhere.'

  'No, no,' said the old man. 'It don't matter. It's all right.'

  'It isn't all right,' said Yaji. 'What have you lost?'

  'Well, I'll tell you then,' said the old man. 'But you'll be a bit startled.'

  'Ha-ha-ha!' laughed Kita. 'Why should we be startled because you've lost something?'

  'What is it you've lost?' asked Yaji.

  'Well, it's a snake,' said the old man.

  'Yah!' yelled Kita. 'A snake? What kind of a snake?'

  'Well, it's alive,' said the old man.

  Then all the people on the boat began to scream.

  'What a thing to bring on a boat!' said Yaji. 'What were you doing with a snake?'

  'It makes me feel quite creepy,' said Kita. 'Wonder if it's on me,' and he jumped up.

  Then all the people on the boat began to jump about and shout: 'There it is, under that plank.—It's coiled itself up there.—No, it's gone over there.—It makes me shudder to think of it.—It's got under the luggage.—I never thought I'd come to travel with a thing like that.'

  While they were going on throwing the things about, the old man spied the snake beneath a bundle and quickly picked it up and put it in his sleeve.

  'Fancy handling a snake like that!' said Kita. 'It will get away again if you put it in there. Throw it into the sea.'

  'No, no,' said the old man. 'I'm on a pilgrimage and I was fortunate enough to find this snake on the way. So I kept it and exhibit it to people for a small sum so as to help me on my way. I couldn't think of parting with it.'

  'I don't care about that,' said Yaji. 'You've no right to bring it here. Here, boatman, what did you want to let this thing come on board for?'

  'I didn't know anybody was carrying a snake,' said the boatman.

  'I don't care what you say,' said another passenger. 'We can't allow you to keep the snake on the boat. Throw it overboard.'

  'No, no,' said the old man. 'I can't do that.'

  'If you don't get rid of it I shall have to throw you into the sea too,' said Kita. 'What do you say to that?'

  'Let's see you do it,' said the old man. 'Two can play at that game.'

  'What an obstinate old chap it is, ' cried Kita. He jumped up and caught hold of the old man's coat. But just then the snake put its head out, and Kita gave a yell and jumped back. Yaji then tried to hit the old man with his long pipe. This made the old man angry, and he caught hold of Yaji and commenced to struggle with him, while all the other people in the boat tried to separate them. Then the snake put its head out of the old man's bosom and began twisting it round and round.

  'There it is,' they all cried. 'Kill it, kill it.'

  Kita pulled out his dirk and gave the snake a blow on the head. Upon this the snake twined round the dirk, and when Kita tried to throw it into the sea the dirk slipped from his hand and both the snake and the dirk went overboard and disappeared in the water. The loss of his dirk disconcerted Kita, but all the people cried, 'We've got rid of the snake, at any rate, though it's a pity about the dirk.'

  'It's the first time I've ever seen a man fling away his weapon,' said the old man.

  This made Kita angry, and he seized hold of the old man and tried to beat him, when Yaji intervened.

  'There, there, Kita,' he said. 'This is a public ferryboat. You can't make a row here.'

  While he was trying to soothe Kita the boat arrived at Arai. 'Here we are at the barrier,' cried the boatmen. 'Don't forget your hats. Take care, we're going to touch.'

  Then all the passengers got off the boat with cries of thankfulness that they had arrived in safety and went through the barrier. Yaji and Kita also landed, consoling themselves with the idea that th
rowing away your weapon is such an uncommon thing that it would make a good subject for talk on future occasions, and then, to celebrate their safe arrival, they went into a teahouse and had some sake.

  BOOK FOUR

  FIRST PART

  UENSAI TEIRYU in a poem says that he does not know what was the result of blowing a conch-shell in ancient times, but now, at any rate, it brings a favourable wind. But how was it with Imagiri, for there, from beyond the hills, there came the sound of too many conch-shells, and from that time the passage by sea became dangerous, till in the era of Genroku an official order was issued that breakwaters should be constructed to make it safe for the ferry, for which act of benevolence all were duly grateful.

  But the sea was calm and the wind gentle and there was no danger when Yaji and Kita crossed over and stuffed themselves with the famous eels of Arai. While they were resting after the crossing a continual stream of people of all classes kept passing and repassing. Some were hastening down to the landing stage, calling to the ferry-boats to wait for them, while the head factor scolded and shouted his orders about the horses. Then there were the inn attendants running about and the teahouse girls bounding along with their aprons all awry, to say nothing of the baggage carriers with their chants and the postboys with their eyes in all directions.

  My heart is as black as Hamana's bridge;

  It has ceased to beat, it has ceased to live

  they sang.

  'Come in and rest! Come in and rest!' screamed the teahouse girls.

  'Here, postboy, put me down here,' said a voice.

  'Yes, sir,' said the postboy. 'Look out for your head, sir.' The postboy led the horse beneath the eaves of the teahouse.

  The person who had asked to be put down was a samurai, who was dressed in a grey cotton robe with a black cloak. The samurai alighted from his horse, and Yaji and Kita sat down on a bench opposite.

  'Can I give your honour some tea?' inquired the maid.

  The samurai took the tea, and after drinking it stared hard at the maid. 'What time is it?' he asked.

  'It's two o'clock, your honour,' she answered.

  'It's the same time as it was yesterday at this time,' put in the postboy.

  'I'll have something to eat,' said the samurai. 'What have you got?'