noto, an unexplored corner of japan-第22章

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the　art　of　suspension　bridges；　the　ferryboat　itself　supporting　a　part

of　the　weight；　while　the　ferryman　pulled　it　and　himself　across。

We　met　several　more　in　the　course　of　the　next　few　minutes；　before

which　we　all　bowed　down　into　the　bottom　of　the　boat；　while　the　hawser

scraped；　grumbling　impotently；　overhead。　



Our　boat　was　of　adaptive　build。　　It　was　forty…five　feet　long；　not　quite

four　feet　wide；　and　somewhat　over　two　feet　deep。　　These　proportions

and　the　character　of　the　wood　made　it　exceeding　lithe；　so　that　it

bent　like　a　willow　before　necessity。　　In　the　stern　stood　the　head

man；　wielding　for　rudder　an　oar　half　as　long　again　as　those　the

others　used。　　There　was　very　little　rowing　done；　nor　was　there　need；

the　current　itself　took　us　along　at　racing　speed。　



Shortly　after　ducking　under　the　last　ferry　rope　we　reached　the

gateway　to　the　canon。　　Some　rapids　made　an　introduction；　rocks　in

places　jutting　out　of　the　foam；　and　while　we　were　still　curveting　to

the　waves　the　hills　suddenly　closed　in　upon　the　stream　in　two

beetling　cliffs；　spanned　surprisingly　by　a　lofty　cantalever　bridge。　

An　individual　who　chanced　to　cross　at　the　moment　stopped　in　mid　path

to　watch　us　through。　　The　stream　swept　us　in；　and　the　countryside

contracted　to　a　vanishing　vista　behind。　　We　were　launched　on　our　long

canon　voyage。　　The　change　was　as　sudden　as　a　thunderstorm　of　a

smiling　summer　afternoon。　　It　was　an　eclipse　of　the　earth　by　the

earth　itself。　　Dark　rocks　picketed　with　trees　rose　in　still　darker

shadow　on　either　hand；　higher　than　one　could　see。　　The　black　river

swirled　beside　us；　silent；　sullen；　swift。　　At　the　bottom　of　that

gorge　untrodden　by　man；　borne　by　the　dark　flood　that　untouched　by

sunlight　coiled　snakelike　along；　we　seemed　adventured　on　some

unforgotten　Styx。　



For　some　time　we　had　voyaged　thus　with　a　feeling　not　unlike　awe；　when

all　at　once　there　was　a　bustle　among　the　boatmen；　and　one　of　them

went　forward　and　stood　up　in　the　bow。　　We　swept　round　a　corner；　and

saw　our　first　great　rapids　three　hundred　yards　ahead。　　We　could　mark

a　dip　in　the　stream；　and　then　a　tumbled　mass　of　white　water；　while　a

roar　as　of　rage　came　out　of　the　body　of　it。　　As　we　swept　down　upon

the　spot；　the　man　in　the　bow　began　beating　the　gunwale　with　his　oar

in　regularly　repeated　raps。　　The　board　gave　out　a　hollow　ring　that

strangely　filled　the　river　chasm；　a　sound　well　calculated　to　terrify

the　evil　spirits　of　the　spot。　　For　indeed　it　was　an　exorcism　of

homoeopathic　design。　　His　incantation　finished；　he　stood　motionless。　

So　did　the　rest　of　us；　waiting　for　the　plunge。　　The　boat　dipped　by

the　bow；　darted　forward；　and　in　a　trice　we　were　in　the　midst　of　a

deafening　turmoil　of　boiling　waters　and　crashing　breakers。　　The

breakers　laid　violent　hands　upon　us；　grappling　at　the　frail　gunwale

and　coming　in　part　aboard；　and　then；　as　we　slipped　from　their　grasp；

impotently　flung　their　spray　in　our　faces；　and　with　a　growl　dropped

astern。　　The　boat　trembled　like　a　leaf；　and　was　trembling　yet；　when；

with　nightmare　speed；　the　thing　had　slipped　into　the　past；　and　we

were　shot　out　into　the　midst　of　the　seething　flood　below。　



Not　the　least　impressive　part　of　the　affair　was　the　strange

spirit…rapping　on　the　bow。　　The　boatmen　valiantly　asserted　that　this

was　simply　for　signal　to　the　man　in　the　stern。　　Undoubtedly　now　the

action　has　largely　cloaked　itself　in　habit；　but　that　it　once　was

superstitious　is　unquestionable。　　Devils　still　constitute　far　too

respected　a　portion　of　the　community　in　peasant　parts　of　Japan。　



The　steering　the　boatmen　did　was　clever；　but　the　steering　the　stream

managed　of　its　own　motion　was　more　so。　　For　between　the　rapids　proper

were　swirls　and　whirlpools　and　races　without　end。　　The　current　took

us　in　hand　at　the　turns；　sweeping　us　down　at　speed　straight　for　a

rock　on　the　opposite　bank；　and　then；　just　as　shipwreck　seemed

inevitable；　whisked　us　round　upon　the　other　tack。　　A　thick　cushion　of

water　had　fended　the　boat　off；　so　that　to　strike　would　have　been　as

impossible　as　it　looked　certain。　　And　then　at　intervals　came　the　roar

of　another　rapid；　like　a　stirring　refrain；　with　the　boatman　in　the

bow　to　beat　the　time。　



So　we　swept　on；　now　through　inky　swirls　of　tide；　now　through

snow…capped　billows；　moods　these　of　the　passing　stream；　while　above

the　grand　character　of　the　gorge　remained　eternally　the　same。　



　　The　trees　far　up；　sharp…etched　against　the　blue；

　　Let　but　the　river's　strip　of　skylight　through

　　To　trees　below；　that　on　each　jutting　ledge

　　Scant　foothold　found　to　overlook　the　edge；

　　As　still　as　statues　on　their　niches　there；

　　Where　no　breeze　stirred　the　ever…shadowed　air；

　　Spellbound　spectators；　crowded　tier　on　tier

　　From　where　the　lowest；　bending　to　be　near

　　The　shock　of　spray；　with　leaves　a…tremble　stood

　　In　shuddering　gaze　above　the　swirling　flood。　

　　The　whole　deep　chasm；　some　vast　natural　nave

　　That　to　the　thought　a　touch　of　grandeur　gave；

　　And　touch　of　grace；for　that　wistaria　clung

　　Upon　the　trees；　its　grapelike　bunches　hung

　　In　stretch　to　catch　their　semblance　in　the　stream；

　　Pale　purple　clusters；　meant　to　live　in　dream；

　　Placed　high　above　man's　predatory　clutch；

　　To　sight　alone　vouchsafed；　from　harming　touch

　　Wisely　withheld　as　he　is　hurried　past；

　　And　thus　the　more　a　memory　to　last；

　　A　violet　vision；　there　to　stayfair　fate

　　Forever　virginly　inviolate。　



Slowly　the　strip　of　sky　overhead　became　steeped　in　color；　the　half

light　at　the　bottom　of　the　gorge　deepened　in　tint；　and　suddenly　a

turn　brought　us　out　at　a　blaze　in　the　cliff；　where　a　handful　of

houses　straggled　up　toward　the　outer　world。　　We　had　reached

Mitsushima；　a　shafting　in　the　tunnel；　and　our　halting　place　for　the

night。　

　　　　





XXI。　



To　the　Sea。　



It　was　a　ten　minutes'　walk；　the　next　morning；　from　the　inn　down　to

the　boat：　an　everwinding　path　along　a　succession　of　terraces　studded

with　trees　just　breaking　into　leaf；　and　dotted　with　cottages；　whose

folk　gave　us　good…day　as　we　passed。　　The　site　of　the　village　sloped

to　the　south；　its　cheek　full　turned　to　the　sunshine　that　stole　down

and　kissed　it　as　it　lay。　　On　this　lovely　May　morning；　amid　the

slumbering　air；　it　made　as　amorous　a　bit　of　springtide　as　the　heart

could　wish。　　In　front　of　us；　in　vignette；　stretched　the　stream；　half

a　mile　of　it　to　where　it　turned　the　corner。　　Each　succeeding　level　of

terrace　reset　the　picture；　as　if　for　trial　of　effect。　



The　boat　was　waiting；　lightly　grounded　on　a　bit　of　shingle　left　by　a

turn　of　the　current。　　Several　enthusiastic　followers　accompanied　us

out　to　it　with　respectful　insistence。　



On　reaching　our　craft；　we　found；　to　our　surprise；　that　it　was　full　of

bales　of　merchandise　of　large　and　plethoric　habit。　　We　asked　in

astonishment　what　all　this　cargo　meant。　　The　men　answered　sheepishly

that　it　was　to　make　the　boat　ride　better。　　The　boat　had　ridden　well

enough　the　day　before；　and　on　general　principles　should；　it　would

seem；　ride　all　the　better　for　being　light。　　But　indeed　their　guilt

was　plain。　　Our　rascally　boatmen；　who　had　already　charged　a　goodly

sum　for　their　craft；　had　thought　to　serve　two　masters；　and　after

having　leased　the　whole　boat　to　me　were　intending　now　to　turn　a

dishonest　penny　by　shipping　somebody　else's　goods　into　the　bargain。　

In　company　with　the　rest　of　my　kind；　I　much　dislike　to　be　imposed

upon；　so　I　told　them　they　might　instantly　take　the　so…called　ballast

out　again。　　When　I　had　seen　the　process　of　disembarkation　fairly

begun　I　relented；　deciding；　so　long　as　the　bales　were　already　aboard；

to　take　them　on　to　the　first　stopping　place；　and　there　put　them

ashore。　



The　river；　its　brief　glimpse　at　civilization　over；　relapsed　again

into　utter　savagery。　　Rocks　and　trees；　as　wild　apparently　as　their

first　forerunners　there；　walled　us　in　on　the　sides；　and　appeared　to

do　so　at　the　ends；　making　exit　seem　an　impossibility；　and　entrance　to

have　been　a　dream。　　The　stream　gave　short　reaches；　disclosing　every

few　minutes；　as　it　took　us　round　a　fresh　turn；　a　new　variation　on　the

old　theme。　　Then；　as　we　glided　straight　our　few　hundred　feet；　the

wall　behind　us　rose　higher　and　higher；　stretching　out　at　us　as　if　to

prevent　our　possible　escape。　　We　had　thought　it　only　a　high　cliff；

and　behold　it　was　the　whole　mountain　side　that　had　stood　barrier

there。　



I　cannot　point　the　wildness　of　it　all　better　than　did　a　certain　sight

we　came　upon　suddenly；　round　a　corner。　　Without　the　least　warning；

a　bend　in　the　current　introduced　us　to　a　fishing…pole　and　a　basket；

reposing　together　on　the　top　of　a　rock。　　These　two　hints　at　humanity

sat　all　by　themselves；　keeping　one　another　company；　no　other　sign　of

man　was　visible　anywhere。　　The　pair　of　waifs　gave　one　an　odd　feeling；

as　might　the　shadow　of　a　person　apart　from　the　person　himself。

There　was　something　uncanny　in　their　commonplaceness　in　so　uncommon

a　place。　　While　we　were　still　wondering　at　the　whereabouts　of　their

owner；　another　turn　disclosed　him　by　a　sort　of　cove　where　his　boat

lay　drawn　up。　　Indeed；　it　was　an　ideal　spot　for　an　angler；　and　a

lucrative　one　as　well；　for　the　river　is　naturally　full　of　fish。

Were　I　the　angler　I　have　seen　others；　I　would　encamp　here　for　the

rest　of　my　life　and　feed　off　such　phosphoric　diet　as　I　might　catch；

to　the　quickening　of　the　brain　and　the　composing　of　the　body。

But　fortunately　man　has　more　of　the　river　than　of　the　rock　in　his

composition；　and　whether　he　will　or　no　is　steadily　being　hurried　past

such　nicks　in　life　toward　other　adventures　beyond。　



The　rapids　here　were；　if　anything；　finer　than　those　above　Mitsushima。　

Of　them　in　all　there　are　said　to　be　more　than　thirty。　　Some　have

nicknames；　as　〃the　Turret；〃　〃the　Adze；〃　〃Boiling　Rice；〃　and　〃the

Mountain　Bath。〃　Indeed；　probably　all　of　them　have　distinctive

appellations；　but　one　cannot　ask　the　names　of　everybody　in　a

procession。　　There　were　some　bad　enough　to　give　one　a　sensation。

Two　of　the　worst　rocks　have　been　blown　up；　but　enough　still　remain　to

point　a　momentary　moral　or　adorn　an　after　tale。　　All　were　exhilarating。

Through　even　the　least　bad　I　should　have　been　more　than　sorry　to　have

come　alone。　　But　confiding　trust　in　the　boatmen　was　not　misplaced；

for　if　questionable　in　their　morals；　they　were　above　reproach　in

their　water…craft。　



The　rapids　were　incidents；　the　gorge　we　had　always　with　us；　superb

cleft　that　it　was；　hewn　as　by　some　giant　axe；　notching　the　mountain

chain　imperiously　for　passage。　　Hour　followed　hour　with　the　same

setting。　　How　the　river　first　took　it　into　its　head　to　come　through

so　manifestly　unsuitable　a　place　is　a　secret　for　the　geologist　to

tell。　　But　I　for　one　wish　I　had　been　by　to　see。　



From　morning　till　noon　we　raced　with　the　water　at　the　bottom　of　the

canon。　　Each　turn　was　like；　and　yet　unlike；　the　one　before；　so　that　I

wonder　that　I　have　other　than　a　blurred　composite　picture　on