No thought of daringness conserved the interests of these shouters for peace, at any price save its legitimate cost. Every reformer in their eyes became at once a disturber; patriotism were charlatanism, and the knowing ones cried down as demagogues; they shouted plenty and practiced penuriousness, gorged themselves and bade others be satisfied with the crumbs--or their lot. Such were the motley hordes gathered to render Ieyasu master--and he had learned a lesson, knew the kind of discipline these fellows relished, and gave them their due--hunger. To feed, then, or to keep, as well, these hirelings, or their hirers, drilled and coddled, marched or trudged upon Ozaka. "Poor humans; I pity you," sighed Yodogima; Ieyasu dragged after, as uncertain as dogged. CHAPTER XXXI Long lines of coerced, machine-made, and let-live mortals wended the broadening valleys leading from the seat of empire, Kyoto's mouldering gate, Fushima, toward the walled-in adjuster, Ozaka, under whose shelter there throbbed in every archer and each spearman the impulse that leads to liberty. A mighty task confronted these invaders, the mercenary half of a nation. Obedience to an over-mastery had become their watchword; through long ages the spark that enlightens had been drubbed and coaled into nothing more than the droll leaden heat of an improvident toll, and the hills on either side echoed from one to the other only such monotonous rhythm as dulled or tinkled in the ears of baser content or lulled to sleep any instinct born of more than earth's paid transient competence. "Law and order is the order and the law," growled Ieyasu, as the last one of those corpulent commanders eased back upon the tired, stooped shoulders bearing him hence--to what and where only the lost and fading records of regardful time could or would flaunt in the faces of a blushing posterity. "Are the spears sharp," demanded he, when the train had as diligently ranked apace. "I'll inquire, sir," responded the orderly, thinking only of the wage he had contracted--and the echo answering back, from the farthest spoke in the wheel, sounded like: "All's well, sir." "Avast! I warrant," muttered Ieyasu, "not one of them knows the meaning, however prodded or ribbed. A heartless task, this; and, I do believe the soul cries--but to the work: "Forward, march!" and the drive began; the machine creaked; the master builder, however, oiled methodically its thirsty bearings and adjusted as economically the squeaking parts. "It's a time-keeper, if ugly," muttered he, as the trodden ground, too, responded with agony to the listless demands of an overly candid, if seldom understood, "tramp, tramp, tramp"--and the knowing few, constant criers of, "hands off, hands off, hands off," paled at the prospect of their own befouling--Christ's blood bore no relation to the parboiling blue of their ensemble; Pontius had exemplified the wiser conduct.