Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [518]
Musashi came back a little after noon. About an hour later, a group of farmers wearing thick straw rain capes arrived to offer their thanks—for assistance to a sick person, for help in draining off the flood water, for a number of other services. As one old man admitted, “We always get into quarrels at times like these, what with everybody in a hurry to take care of his own problems first. But today we followed your advice and worked together.”
They also brought gifts of food—sweets, pickles and, to Iori’s delight, rice cakes. As he thought about it, Iori decided that that day he’d learned a lesson: if one forgot about oneself and worked for the group, food would naturally be forthcoming.
“We’ll build you a new house,” one farmer promised. “One that won’t be blown down.” For the present, he invited them to stay at his house, the oldest in the village. When they got there, the man’s wife hung their clothes out to dry, and when they were ready to go to bed, they were shown to separate rooms.
Before he fell asleep, Iori became aware of a sound that stirred his interest. Turning over to face Musashi’s room, he whispered through the shoji, “Do you hear that, sir?”
“Umm?”
“Listen. You can just hear them—drums from the shrine dances. Strange, isn’t it, having religious dances the night after a typhoon?”
The only reply was the sound of deep breathing.
The next morning, Iori got up early and asked the farmer about the drums. Coming back to Musashi’s room, he said brightly, “Mitsumine Shrine in Chichibu isn’t so far from here, is it?”
“I shouldn’t think so.”
“I wish you’d take me there. To pay my respects.”
Puzzled, Musashi asked why the sudden interest and was told that the drummers had been musicians in a neighboring village, practicing for the Asagaya Sacred Dance, which their household had specialized in since the distant past. They went every month to perform at the Mitsumine Shrine Festival.
The beauty of music and the dance was known to Iori only through these Shinto dances. He was inordinately fond of them, and having heard that the Mitsumine dances were one of the three great types in this tradition, he had his heart set on seeing them.
“Won’t you take me?” he pleaded. “It’ll be five or six days, at least, before our house is ready.”
Iori’s fervency reminded Musashi of Jōtarō, who had often made a nuisance of himself—whining, pouting, purring—to get what he wanted. Iori, so grown up and self-sufficient for his age, rarely resorted to such tactics. Musashi wasn’t thinking about it particularly, but an observer might have noticed the effects of his influence. One thing he had deliberately taught Iori was to make a strict distinction between himself and his teacher.
At first he replied noncommittally, but after a little thought, he said, “All right, I’ll take you.”
Iori jumped in the air, exclaiming, “The weather’s good too.” Within five minutes, he’d reported his good fortune to their host, requested box lunches and procured new straw sandals. Then he was in front of his teacher again, asking, “Shouldn’t we get started?”
The farmer saw them off with the promise that their house would be finished by the time they returned.
They passed places where the typhoon had left ponds, small lakes almost, in its wake, but otherwise it was difficult to believe the heavens had unleashed their fury only two days earlier. Shrikes flew low in the clear blue sky.
The first night, they chose a cheap inn in the village of Tanashi and went to bed early. The next day, their road led them farther into the great Musashino Plain.
Their journey was interrupted for several hours at the Iruma River, which was swollen to three times its normal size. Only a short section of the dirt bridge stood, uselessly, in the middle of the stream.
While Musashi watched a group of farmers carrying new piling out from both sides to make a temporary crossing, Iori noticed some old arrowheads and remarked on them, adding, “There’s tops of helmets too. There must have been a battle here.” He amused himself along the riverbank, digging up arrowheads,