The Sub-Chief Drew Back The Sliding Doors, And All
Bowed With Much Reverence, It Was A Simple Shrine Of
Unlacquered
wood, with a broad shelf at the back, on which there was a small
shrine containing a figure of
The historical hero Yoshitsune, in a
suit of inlaid brass armour, some metal gohei, a pair of tarnished
brass candle-sticks, and a coloured Chinese picture representing a
junk. Here, then, I was introduced to the great god of the
mountain Ainos. There is something very pathetic in these people
keeping alive the memory of Yoshitsune, not on account of his
martial exploits, but simply because their tradition tells them
that he was kind to them. They pulled the bell three times to
attract his attention, bowed three times, and made six libations of
sake, without which ceremony he cannot be approached. They asked
me to worship their god, but when I declined on the ground that I
could only worship my own God, the Lord of Earth and Heaven, of the
dead and of the living, they were too courteous to press their
request. As to Ito, it did not signify to him whether or not he
added another god to his already crowded Pantheon, and he
"worshipped," i.e. bowed down, most willingly before the great hero
of his own, the conquering race.
While we were crowded there on the narrow ledge of the cliff,
Benri, the chief, arrived - a square-built, broad-shouldered,
elderly man, strong as an ox, and very handsome, but his expression
is not pleasing, and his eyes are bloodshot with drinking.
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