Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [395]
For the first time, he asked whether it was possible for an insignificant human being to become one with the universe.
A Gift of Money
Musashi’s first waking thought was of Otsū and Jōtarō, and though he and Geki carried on a convivial conversation over breakfast, the problem of how to find them was very much on his mind. After emerging from the inn, he unconsciously scrutinized every face he encountered on the highroad. Once or twice he thought he saw Otsū ahead, only to find he was mistaken.
“You seem to be looking for someone,” said Geki.
“I am. My companions and I got separated along the way, and I’m worried about them. I think I’d better give up the idea of going to Edo with you and search some of the other roads.”
Disappointed, Geki said, “That’s too bad. I was looking forward to traveling with you. I hope the fact that I talked too much last night won’t change your mind about visiting Sendai.”
Geki’s manner, straightforward and masculine, appealed to Musashi. “That’s very kind of you,” he said. “I hope I have the chance someday.”
“I want you to see for yourself how our samurai conduct themselves. And if you’re not interested in that, then just regard it as a sightseeing trip. You can listen to the local songs and visit Matsushima. It’s famous for its scenery, you know.” Geki took his leave and headed briskly for Wada Pass.
Musashi turned around and went back to where the Kōshū highroad branched off from the Nakasendō. As he stood there mapping out his strategy, a group of day laborers from Suwa came up to him. Their dress suggested they were porters or grooms or bearers of the primitive palanquins used in these parts. They approached slowly, arms folded, looking like an army of crabs.
As their eyes rudely sized him up, one of them said, “Sir, you seem to be looking for someone. A beautiful lady, is it, or only a servant?”
Musashi shook his head, waved them off with a slightly disdainful gesture and turned away. He did not know whether to go east or west, but finally made up his mind to spend the day seeing what he could find out in the neighborhood. If his inquiries led nowhere, he could then proceed to the shōgun’s capital with a clear conscience.
One of the laborers broke in upon his thoughts. “If you’re looking for somebody, we could help you,” he said. “It’s better than standing around under the hot sun. What does your friend look like?”
Another added, “We won’t even set a rate for our services. We’ll leave it up to you.”
Musashi relented to the extent of describing Otsū and Jōtarō in detail.
After consulting with his fellows, the first man said, “We haven’t seen them, but if we split up we’re sure to find them. The kidnappers must’ve taken one of the three roads between Suwa and Shiojiri. You don’t know this area, but we do.”
None too optimistic about his chances of success in such difficult terrain, Musashi said, “All right, go look for them.”
“Done,” shouted the men.
Again they huddled, ostensibly deciding who was to go where. Then the ringleader came forward, rubbing his hands together deferentially. “There’s just one little thing, sir. You see … I don’t like to mention it, but we’re just penniless laborers. Why, not one of us has had anything to eat yet today. Wonder if you couldn’t advance us half a day’s pay and, say, a little something extra. I guarantee we’ll find your companions before sundown.”
“Of course. I was planning to give you something.”
The man named a figure, which Musashi found, after counting his money, was more than he had. He was not unmindful of the value of money, but being alone, with no one to support, his attitude was on the whole indifferent. Friends and admirers sometimes donated travel funds, and there were temples where he could often obtain free lodging. At other times, he slept in the open or went without ordinary food. One way or another,