CHAPTER XIV.

THE HAWKING-PARTY.

Some days after the reception of the embassy, towards the tenth hour of the morning, the hour of the serpent, a young cavalier rode at full speed along the road which leads from Osaka to Kioto.

At that hour the road is very crowded; beasts of burden, pedlers, men and women of the people pass and repass along its entire length. Peasants carry the produce of their fields to the suburban towns; they are on their way to Fusimi, Yodo, and Firacca. Merchandise of every kind is taken from Osaka to Kioto,--rice, salt-fish, metals, and precious woods; while Kioto sends to the city of the Shogun tea, silk, bronze vases, and various sorts of lacquered ware.

The young horseman paid not the faintest heed to the crowd; he gave his steed the reins, and urged him on with his voice. Moreover, the road was always free before him; people sprang quickly aside at the sound of the furious galloping feet, and the passers-by retreated to the roadside, which was bordered here and there with houses made of beech-wood.

The rider moved so rapidly that, in spite of all their efforts, the curious could not distinguish his features.

"It's a warrior," said one; "I saw the gleam of his weapons."

"That was no great thing to see," said another; "every time he moved he glittered like lightning."

"It's a warrior of high rank; I saw the gold thongs of his whip of office."

"Is he a general?"

"Ask the swallow, as she flies, to see whether the copper horns shine upon his helmet; she alone is capable of overtaking that knight."

When he reached Kioto, the young soldier did not slacken his pace; he rode through the city at a gallop, and entering the palace, inquired for the envoys of the Shogun.

"They are at the summer-palace," was the answer; "or rather they are not there. They have joined our divine Kisaki in the chase; they started at sunrise."

"In which direction did they go?"

"Towards the shores of Lake Biva, at the foot of the mountains," replied the lackey; "but, my lord, do you wish to join the illustrious hunters?"

"Bring me a horse," said the young man coldly, without answering the question.

At the same time he alighted, and the servant led away his weary steed; soon two grooms brought forward another, equipped, and full of spirit.

The soldier again mounted, and rode away.

Lake Biva lies behind the chain of hills that surrounds Kioto. To reach it, several valleys must be traversed, and many roundabout paths pursued. The young man could not keep his horse at a steady gallop, on account of the many hills up and down which lay his course. Sometimes, instead of following the windings of the road, he galloped over the thick grass in the valleys, to cut short his journey. At the end of an hour he came out upon the lake-shore; but then he did not know which way to turn.

The lake, blue as a sapphire, stretched before him far as the eye could roach. To right and left rose small copses and thickets and brown rocks; whilst beyond them lay broad pastures covered with moss and heath. Of the hunt, no trace, no sign by which he might guess in which direction he was to follow.

The young soldier seemed in no wise disconcerted by this circumstance; he spurred his horse up a slight eminence and gazed around him. He then perceived, in the midst of a bamboo grove, the roof of a tiny temple half buried in the trees. Thither he hurried, and, without dismounting, rudely struck the alarm-bell.

The noise waked the keeper of the temple, a bald-headed old bonze, with long, thin face.

He ran out, rubbing his eyes.

"Do you know which way the royal hunt went?" said the young man.

"This morning I heard the barking of dogs, the neighing of horses, and loud laughter," said the bonze; "but I saw nothing. The hunters did not pass this way."

"Then they must have gone to the right," said the warrior, dropping a piece of silver into the alms-chest covered with a lattice work of bamboo.

He started off at a gallop. He rode for a long time, pausing occasionally to listen. At last he heard a distant barking, although the shore lay desolate before him. He stopped, and looked in all directions.

The barking came from the mountains; the sound of horses' hoofs was also indistinctly heard.

Suddenly, without a break, the sounds became loud and clear. Black dogs sprang from a narrow gorge between the hills, speedily followed by men on horseback.

The entire hunt passed before the young man. He recognized the Kisaki by the red gauze veil which floated around her. Some of the princesses held a hooded falcon upon their left fist. The lords bent forward, ready to let fly their arrows; each grasped a huge black lacquer bow.

As all the hunters had their heads thrown back, and were watching a falcon chasing a buzzard, high in the heavens, they passed without observing the young warrior. The latter at once rode alongside of them.

The dogs started a pheasant, which rose screaming from a bush. A fresh falcon was unleashed.

As he rode, the soldier sought out, among the nobles, the Prince of Nagato, and approached him.

"Stay, Iwakura!" he cried; "Fide-Yori sends me to you."

The Prince turned his head with a start; he drew in his horse. They lingered behind.

"Signenari!" exclaimed Nagato, as he recognized the young leader. "What has happened?"

"I bring important news," said Signenari. "Civil war threatens us. Hieyas has levied armies; he holds half Japan. With an amazing promptitude, he has collected large forces,--far superior to ours. The danger is imminent; therefore the master desires to rally all his followers around him."

"Alas! alas!" cried Nagato, "the future alarms me! must the land, then, be bathed in the blood of its own children? What does General Yoke-Moura say?"

"Yoke-Moura is full of energy and confidence; he has assembled a council of war. But still another misfortune has befallen us: we have lost the Prince of Mayada."

"Is he dead, that dear old man?" said Nagato, bowing his head,--"the only one who never yielded to the invading power of Hieyas! He could not have loved Fide-Yori more dearly, had he been his father. It was he who, on the death of the Tycoon, brought the little boy into the Hall of a Thousand Mats and presented him to the princes, who swore allegiance to him. How many have betrayed him since that day. How many more will yet betray him! Poor Mayada, you alone could win some semblance of respect from Hieyas; now he fears nothing mortal."

"He shall fear us, I swear it to you!" cried Signenari, with an heroic flash in his eye.

"You are right! Forgive me for this temporary weakness," said the Prince, lifting his head. "I am so crushed with grief that this sad news overwhelmed me for an instant."

The hunters had noticed the Prince of Nagato's absence. Supposing some accident had occurred, an alarm was raised, and the whole Court came flying back.

They soon perceived the Prince, talking with Signenari. They joined and surrounded them, asking a thousand questions. The dogs barked, some of the horses reared and plunged; the falconers recalled their birds, who refused to obey, and continued to pursue their prey.

"What has happened?" said one.

"It's a messenger."

"Does he bring tidings from Osaka?"

"Bad news!"

Nagato led Signenari to the Kisaki's side.

The Queen was mounted on a white horse covered with a network of pearls, and decked with silken head-tassels.

"Here is the bravest of your soldiers," said Nagato, turning to Signenari. "He comes from Osaka."

Signenari bowed low; then resumed his grave and reserved attitude.

"Speak!" said the Kisaki.

"Divine Sovereign, it is with pain that I disturb your pleasures," said Signenari; "but I must inform you that the peace of your kingdom is threatened. Hieyas has raised a part of Japan in revolt; he is preparing to attack Osaka, that he may usurp the power intrusted to your servant Fide-Yori by the celestial Mikado."

"Is it possible!" exclaimed the Kisaki. "Would Hieyas dare commit such a crime? Has the man no soul, that, to satisfy his insatiate ambition, he does not hesitate to arm brothers against brothers, and to shed on Japanese soil the blood of Japan's sons? Are you sure of what you state?"

"The news was brought to Osaka last night by messengers sent in hot haste by the princes; the latter were hurriedly striving to fortify their provinces. The Daimio of Arima arrived this morning at dawn and confirmed the news of the messengers. Scouts were instantly sent to various points, and the Shogun ordered me to recall his ambassadors as swiftly as possible, to hold a council."

"Let us return to the palace," said the Kisaki.

The party set out silently; only the princesses whispered together as they stared at the young warrior.

"What a beauty he is?"

"You might take him for a woman!"

"Yes; but what daring in his eye!"

"What coldness too! His tranquil gravity disquiets and alarms."

"He must be terrible in battle."

"Terrible, too, to her who loves him; his heart seems to be of steel, like his sword. Do not look at him so steadily."

Nagato rode up to the Queen.

"These events will delay your marriage, Iwakura!" said she, with a strange feeling of delight.

"Yes, Queen," said the Prince; "and the chances of war are many: perhaps it may never take place. However, as Fatkoura is publicly known as my betrothed, I wish her to go, until the wedding, to my castle of Hagui, where she will live with my father. If I die, she will bear my name, and be ruler over the province of Nagato."

"You are right," said the Kisaki; "but death will spare you. I will make vows for your preservation."

Nagato looked at her reproachfully. He dared not speak, but his eyes expressed his thought; they said plainly: "You know that death would be sweeter to me than the union which you force me to make."

The Kisaki, deeply moved, turned away her head and spurred on her horse. They returned to the Dairi.

When the Mikado learned the tidings of probable war, he seemed afflicted; but in secret he rejoiced. He did not love the Regent, nor did he care much more for the Shogun. Although he was their sovereign lord, he had a confused feeling that they ruled him. He knew that they both kept a watchful eye on him, and he feared them. He was therefore delighted to think that they would mutually inflict on each other all the evil that he wished them both.

That same day the envoys of Fide-Yori left Kioto and returned to Osaka.