CHAPTER VII

THE SEA-GIANT APPEARS

AS Captain Kichidayu sought for sailors by holding out to them promise of wages ten times more than they could get at other times, he soon picked up six sturdy fellows who did not set much value on their lives. Thereupon he reported his success to Bunkichi, who was rejoiced over it, and said: “Then all things are ready now; we shall settle to start in the morning, and I will send to the ship ten pieces of long square timbers. You will place them crosswise on the ship and attach to their ends heavy stones so that she will not upset easily,” he continued, with his usual audacity and resourcefulness. “For I have heard that ships which sail about those far-off islands, Hachijo and Oshima, and the like, are fitted out in this way and sail in safety even in heavy storms. That is why in Yedo they call those island-ships ‘sea-sparrows’: the weight being on both sides of the ship, they never upset.”

Kichidayu was much struck by his keen observation, and said: “Truly, it didn’t occur to my mind that those ships are fitted out as you say, but now I recollect having seen them off the coast of Izu Province. As they are thus constructed they never capsize, however much they are washed over by waves.”

“Now, Kichidayu San,” Bunkichi said, “this ship is called the _Tenjin-maru_, but our going out to sea this time may mean going to her destruction, so let us change her name into _Iurei-maru_, or ghost-ship, and let us imagine ourselves to be dead men by putting on white clothes. Thus nothing that may occur can scare the crew; for, being ‘dead’ men, they can have no fear of death.”

The captain agreed with him, saying: “That’s a splendid idea.”

The captain returned to his abode in high spirits and told to the six seamen what the lad had said, and they all readily agreed to the plan, and were so stirred by the lad’s courage that they were ready to face any dangers or fears that might come to them.

Bunkichi at once ordered a man to paint on the sail of the ship: “_Iurei-maru_” in large Chinese characters, and at the cloth establishment of the Daikokuya, he ordered eight suits of white clothes.

“Bunkichi,” inquired the astonished master, “what is the use of those eight suits of white?”

Bunkichi laughed as he answered: “We may all be dead men before long, if we go out to sea in this storm. The chances of surviving are few, so we are already dead in heart. I have named my ship _Iurei-maru_. We are going to dress in white with the _zudabukuro_[26] and we shall stick triangular-shaped papers on our foreheads, as they do for the dead.”

Footnote 26:

The purse tied round the neck of the dead at a burial service in Japan.

“What horrible things you do!” exclaimed the wife, while the daughter, Chocho, with sudden inspiration, said: “I will sew your white suit for you.”

“I am most grateful,” replied the lad, “but I have already ordered others to do it for me.”

“Please let me do it,” said the girl. “It may be the last—” and at this Bunkichi consented with thanks.

The master, who seemed to have prepared beforehand, ordered _sake_ and a set of little dishes of eatables to be brought forth, and then remarked: “As you have settled to start to-morrow I intend to offer you a congratulatory feast in advance, hoping that you may arrive at Yedo and have good luck and make a great profit.”

At last the morrow came, and early in the morning Bunkichi bade farewell to the men of the Daikokuya and put on his white suit, which was made by the daughter of the house, and went out to the seashore. The master, as well as his wife, with their daughter, Chocho, and all the employees in the shop, followed him in order to see him off. Having heard of his departure, some of the townspeople with whom he was acquainted, and those poor people who had received his alms, flocked together from the four corners of the town to bid him good-by.

Having bade farewell to the people, Bunkichi entered a small boat and soon got on board of the _Iurei-maru_. Those who came to see him off, as they stood around the shore, raised their voices, calling out for Bunkichi, lamenting his departure. Bunkichi gave a signal for the anchor to be weighed and the sail to be hoisted; then the ship soon stood out to sea. Both the men on the shore and those on board the ship waved their hands till their forms had become indiscernible, while the ship, driven by the strong west wind, soon became lost to sight among the big waves.

Though the _Iurei-maru_ had her sail up only seven tenths of its whole length, she sailed on eastward with the speed of an arrow, owing to the strong wind. In a very short time she passed the Sea of Kumano, and then soon was in the Sea of Isè. As she came to the noted Yenshiu-nada on the evening of that day, the wind grew stronger and the rain came down in torrents. As the huge waves, mountain-high, came rushing from the far ocean and the ship was tossed like a tree-leaf, the crew felt as if they were flung down into the abyss of darkness when she got into the trough of the waves. Those six robust men, who had hitherto worked with steady and fearless courage, suddenly gave in before this state of the sea and lost all heart for labor. Nevertheless Captain Kichidayu, as steady as ever, ran about here and there, stirring the crew up to their work.

Among the eight men all told, the one most unaffected by the dreadful state of the sea was Bunkichi, the _Wanizame-Kozo_, and he, with the captain, lent a helping hand to the tired crew, calling out occasionally: “Hurrah! This is fine! We shall get to Yedo within the next day. Work hard, all of you, and you sha’n’t want for pay!” And then he doled out money to the crew, who were encouraged by this and braced themselves up and labored their best.

Meanwhile night fell and the storm continued. Though nothing was visible to the eyes, the awful sound of the waves, and the wind, which shook masts and rigging, deafened the ears; and the heaven and the earth seemed to be swallowed up by the waters.

By degrees the crew’s courage began again to fail and one of them muttered: “This is just the sort of night for some big monster like a _wanizame_ to appear!” To which another said: “Yes; I feel a bit nervous, too.”

“Come, men; a little more perseverance!” shouted out Bunkichi. So saying, he again gave them an extra wage and continued: “You fear the _wanizame_, do you? I rather think the _wanizame_ will be afraid of me because I’m the _Wanizame-Kozo_. Take heart, all of you! Don’t be afraid!”

The men were cheered up and said: “Truly enough, you once killed the _wanizame_. We needn’t be afraid! Now, all right, sir; we’re rid of our fears!”

However, their courage was of but short duration; when they gazed at the dark, angry sea they again lost heart, saying: “But, sir, what shall we do if the _umi-bozu_[27] comes up—if it is true, as the people say, the monster lives in this ocean?”

Footnote 27:

An imaginary giant of the sea.

Bunkichi, as he gave them a scornful smile, stood up with his dagger in his hand and said: “I’ll sweep him down with this sword if any such creature makes his appearance.”

Just then the man on watch suddenly shrieked: “Ah! the sea-giant has come!” And he ran back toward the stern while the others were frightened out of their wits and ran down into the cabin where they drew their heads back between their shoulders and held their breath in fear. Bunkichi looked toward the bow. Sure enough, a big undefined dark form rose at the front of the ship, about ten feet in height. He drew his sword and ran toward the monster. As he swept the giant down with his sharp weapon, he laughingly returned toward Kichidayu, who stood by the mast.

“What was that?” Kichidayu asked Bunkichi, who answered, still smiling: “It _did_ look like a round-headed giant, but really it was only a column of mist which came floating in our way. That’s what they call the ‘sea-giant,’ I suppose, and in their fright they fancied it was coming on board to seize them.”

Kichidayu, who was much surprised at Bunkichi’s courage, said: “Indeed! I understand now how you could kill the _wanizame_, by the courage you have just shown, and which I cannot but admire. To speak the truth, I didn’t feel very bold myself when I saw that big dark form, but I screwed my courage up so as not to be laughed at by you.”

As the crew had not yet come out of their cabin, Kichidayu called out: “Now, men, come up; your master has killed the giant. Come quick, quick!”

The crew trooped out at this, and said: “Truly we heard a shriek a little while ago!” At which Kichidayu muttered, “Fools!”

During the night, however, they got over the Sea of Yenshiu in this manner, and in the very early morning of the third day they were entering the Bay of Yedo. Gradually the sea was becoming much smoother.

“We are safe, master. We can, too, be quite at ease in our hearts!” said one of the men. “Ah! I see the headland of Haneda there. Beyond that there’s the Bay of Shinagawa. If we go forward at this rate we shall be at Yedo by dawn: I feel safe now. But I felt that I would be eaten alive when I saw the _umi-bozu_ at the Yenshiu-nada Sea.”

Then Bunkichi said, as he laughed: “You don’t know what you are saying. We have been all along dead men in white suits, and for dead men to have been alive is an absurdity!” Then all, for the first time, burst out into merry, hearty laughter.

Captain Kichidayu turned to Bunkichi, saying: “Master, what a voyage! In a couple of days and nights we sailed the distance which takes about ten days at other times. That we have come here safely through this storm is due to your contrivance of laying the timbers crosswise on the boat; but for that we should certainly have capsized.” Then he turned to the sailors and added: “What say you, my men? Is there any one who could beat him in wit or in courage?”

“No, there’s not another like him,” all replied in one voice. “He killed the _wanizame_ as well as the _umi-bozu_, and so long as we are with him there is nothing on earth to be dreaded. Please, sir, employ us under you for years to come. We shall never again play cowards as we did, sir!”

Bunkichi replied: “I fear you would never face the _umi-bozu_.” To which they could say nothing, but scratched their heads in silence.

Though the wind was still high, after the storm through which they had fought their way out, the inland seas seemed to them “as smooth as matting,” as the saying is, and soon after dawn all hands on board the _Iurei-maru_ arrived safely at Yedo.

At that time in Yedo the orange merchants, in spite of the stress of weather, had been eagerly awaiting orange-ships from Kishu Province every day, on account of the nearness of the bellows festival. And this was the only ship that did not disappoint their expectations. When the ship’s arrival was known, the joy of the merchants was beyond description, and soon this popular song immortalized the happy welcome of the orange-ship:

On the dark sea beholden A sail, a white sail! Whence does it hail? From Kishu’s far shore It brings precious store Of oranges golden.