The Curse of Koshiu: A Chronicle of Old JapanWingfield, Lewis
History
The Curse of Koshiu: A Chronicle of Old Japan
Wingfield, Lewis
Historical fiction; Hojo family -- Fiction; Japan -- History -- Kamakura period, 1185-1333 -- Fiction
There being no professional fun toward, neither master nor men were in
a hurry. To come upon a roadside tea-house, with its bevy of laughing
waitresses, meant the performance of a variety of operations:
tea-sipping, smoking, drowsy lounging, jesting, active dallying, and
then unlimited sleep.
At first the method of progression was of the slowest, for the marshy
plain was cut by various rivers, which had to be crossed in barges;
then came a stretch of paddy, or rice fields; a green sea of slush
bisected by a narrow gangway of stones, along which two men were
unable to trudge abreast. Then, the foot of the hills being reached,
there was a long and weariful ascent of rock and sliding stones--a
climb over precipice and crag by a way that could scarce be called a
path--and a descent on the other side as difficult. This feat
accomplished, it was, of course, necessary to bathe, and worship in an
adjoining temple, and rest and sleep again, and so it took more than a
week for the cavalcade to reach the capital.
At approach of the noisy procession the mountaineer cottagers peeped
out of their secluded dwellings, but perceiving the company of
samurai, speedily put up their paper shutters, and made believe to be
not at home. For the two-sword man was apt to ape the vices of his
betters, and leave behind a trail of ruin such as marks the passage of
the locust.
Sampei was too busy with his own thoughts--which were gloomy enough,
in sooth--to take heed of those he passed; and even if he had done so,
would probably have failed to recognise an elderly pedestrian, who
glared with hate from under beetle-brows, at the young noble riding
by. Having forgotten even the name of the luckless Miné, it was not
likely that he would quickly recognise her father, clad now in dusty
pilgrim garb of white, and wide mushroom hat of rice straw. For
Koshiu, true to his resolve, was also going to Ki[^y]oto to watch
events, and fulfil, if need were, his self-imposed and dangerous
mission. Like all fervent worshippers of Buddha, the sturdy farmer had
no fear of death; like other natives of Japan, he was eminently
superstitious. Among the Asiatic poor, where ceaseless drudgery,
and hunger never fully satisfied, are the common lot; where the
tax-gatherer and the avaricious noble are the representatives of
government; where earthquake and typhoon cause the forces of nature to
be feared as malignant influences; life is not so pleasant as to cause
the earthly wayfarer to long for its continuance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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