風の又三郎 English

Doh-do-do, do-do-oh, do-do-oh, do-do

Blow away the green walnuts too

Blow away the sour quinces too

Doh-do-do, do-do-oh, do-do-oh, do-do

On the bank of a mountain stream there stood a small school.

There was only a single classroom, and though there was no third-year class among the pupils, all the rest, from first grade up through sixth, were there.

The playground was hardly bigger than a tennis court, but just behind it rose a lovely grassy hill with chestnut trees growing on it, and in a corner of the playground there was even a hole in the rock from which cold water came bubbling up.

It was a fresh, clear morning on the first of September.

The wind roared in the blue sky, and sunlight filled the whole playground.

Two first-year children in black snow trousers came around the embankment into the playground, and seeing that no one else had come yet, cried out, "Hey, we're first! First there!"

shouting it by turns as they came bursting joyfully in through the gate — but when they glanced into the classroom, the two of them stood frozen stiff with astonishment, and turning to look at each other, began to tremble, until at last one of them burst out crying.

The reason was this: in that hushed morning classroom, come from who knew where, a strange red-haired child none of them had ever seen sat there properly at the very front desk.

And that desk, as it happened, belonged to none other than the crying child himself.

The other child was already half in tears himself, but he forced his eyes wide and glared in that direction all the same, and just then, from upstream,

"Chowhaa, kaguri! Chowhaa, kaguri!"

came a voice crying out high and loud, and then, just like a great crow, Kasuke came running across the playground hugging his bag and laughing.

and no sooner had he than Sataro and Kosuke came trooping noisily along after him.

"What ya cryin' for? Gone soft in the head?"

Kasuke said, grabbing the shoulder of the boy who wasn't crying.

At that, the boy burst into tears as well.

Thinking this strange, everyone looked around, and their eyes fell on that odd red-haired child sitting composed and upright in the classroom.

Everyone fell silent.

Little by little the girls gathered too, but no one could say a word.

The red-haired child seemed not the least bit afraid, and sat there properly still, staring hard at the blackboard.

Then Ichiro, from the sixth year, arrived.

Ichiro came walking up slowly with long strides, just like a grown man, and looking round at everyone, said,

"What happened?"

he asked.

Only then did everyone start chattering all at once, pointing at the strange child in the classroom.

Ichiro looked that way for a while, then hugged his bag tight and walked briskly over beneath the window.

Everyone, quite cheered up again, followed after him.

"Who's that, going into the classroom before it's time?"

Ichiro said, climbing up to the window and thrusting his face inside.

"If ya go in the classroom on a fine day like this, teacher'll give ya an awful scoldin'!"

said Kosuke, from under the window.

"Scolded or not, that ain't none o' my worry."

said Kasuke.

"Get on out o' there, get on out!"

said Ichiro.

But the child only kept glancing about the room and at all of them, still sitting properly on the bench with both hands resting on his knees.

His shape alone was strange enough to begin with.

He wore an odd, baggy, mouse-grey jacket, and white half-trousers, and on his feet a pair of red leather half-boots.

And as for his face, it was just like a ripened apple, and his eyes especially were perfectly round and jet black.

Since no words seemed to reach him at all, Ichiro too was thoroughly at a loss.

"That one there's a foreigner."

"He's come to join the school."

Everyone chattered on, all talking at once.

Then Kasuke, from the fifth year, suddenly cried out,

"Ah — he's come to join third grade!"

he shouted, and so

"Ah, that's it."

the little ones thought, but Ichiro only tilted his head and said nothing.

The strange child just kept glancing this way and that, sitting properly on the bench all the while.

Just then the wind came roaring through, and the classroom's glass doors all rattled, and the pampas grass and chestnut trees on the hill behind the school turned a strange pale blue-white and swayed, and the child inside the classroom seemed to give a little smirk and stir just slightly.

Then Kasuke cried out at once.

"Ah, I've got it! That's Matasaburo of the Wind!"

Everyone else thought so too, just as, all at once, from behind them, Goro

"Waah, that hurts!"

cried out.

When everyone turned to look, Goro had had his toe trodden on by Kosuke, and, quite furious, was pummeling Kosuke.

Kosuke got angry too, and,

"Waah, you were in the wrong and you go and hit me first!"

he said, and tried to hit Goro again.

Goro, his whole face streaming with tears, tried to grapple with Kosuke.

So Ichiro stepped in between them, and Kasuke pinned Kosuke back.

"Hey, cut out the fighting! Teacher's right over there in the staff room!"

Ichiro said, and as he spoke he glanced back toward the classroom again — and all at once he stood there utterly dumbfounded.

The strange child who had been sitting in the classroom only a moment before was nowhere to be seen — not a trace of him.

Everyone felt just as if a colt they had finally made friends with had been led far away, or a tit they had finally caught had slipped free and flown off.

The wind came roaring through again, setting the window glass rattling, and it went rippling pale blue-white up over the pampas grass on the hill behind, further and further upstream.

"Waah, it's because you two went and fought that Matasaburo's up and gone!"

Kasuke said angrily.

Everyone else truly thought the same.

Goro, feeling he really had done wrong, forgot even the pain in his toe and stood there hanging his head, his shoulders hunched small.

"So he really was Matasaburo of the Wind, after all."

"He came on the two-hundred-tenth day, that's why."

"He had shoes on, too."

"Had clothes on, too."

"His hair was red — such a funny fellow he was."

"Say, say, Matasaburo went and set a stone up on my desk!"

the second-year child said.

Looking, there on that child's desk lay a dirty stone.

"That's right, that's it. He busted that window there too."

"That ain't so. It was Kasuke chucked a rock at it before the break, weren't it."

"Waah! That ain't so!"

As they were saying this — well now, what do you suppose happened?

Out from the entrance came the teacher.

The teacher held a whistle that gleamed brightly in his right hand, and was already getting ready to call everyone to line up, but right behind him came that red-haired child from before, looking as composed as if he were carrying the tail of a shrine procession, wearing a white cap, walking briskly along after the teacher.

Everyone fell perfectly silent.

At last Ichiro said, "Good morning, Teacher."

and so everyone else followed with

"Good morning, Teacher."

and that was all anyone said.

"Good morning, everyone. You all look well. Now then — line up."

The teacher blew his whistle — birrr.

It echoed at once off the hill across the valley and came back low, birrr, once more.

Everyone thought it was all just as it had been before the holidays, and lined up class by class in single file: one sixth-year, seven fifth-years, six fourth-years, and twelve of the combined first- and second-years.

The second grade, eight children, and the first grade, four, dressed their own line and fell in among them.

Meanwhile, whether he found something funny or amusing, that odd child stood behind the teacher, chewing sideways at his back tooth as though biting his own tongue, looking everyone over with sidelong glances.

Then the teacher, saying, "Takada, come this way," led him over to where the fifth-years stood, measured his height against Kasuke's, and set him standing between Kasuke and Kiyo, who stood behind him.

Everyone turned around and stared fixedly at that.

The teacher went back to stand before the entrance again,

"Arms' length, forward!"

he called out the order.

Everyone dressed the line once more and formed up properly, but really they all wanted to see what that strange child was doing, so they kept turning to look his way by turns, or glaring at him sidelong.

That child, though, seemed to know all about dressing the line and everything else, and calmly put both arms out in front, his fingertips just reaching Kasuke's back, so that Kasuke, feeling his back go all itchy and ticklish, kept fidgeting and squirming.

"Attention!"

the teacher called out the order again.

"First years, lead off in order."

So the first-years set off walking, and soon the second-years set off too, going right around in front of everyone and in through the entrance on the right where the shoe lockers were.

When the fourth-years set off, that child from before fell in right behind Kasuke and walked along with great swagger.

The children up ahead kept glancing back now and then, and the ones behind stared fixedly too.

Before long everyone had put their footwear away in the shoe lockers and gone into the classroom, and sat down at their desks in a single row by class, just as they had lined up outside.

That child too sat down calmly, composed as ever, right behind Kasuke.

But now there was a great commotion.

"Waah, there's a stone in my desk!"

"Waah, my desk's been swapped!"

"Kikko, Kikko, did ya bring your report card? I clean forgot mine!"

"Waah, hey you, lend me a wood pen, lend me one, I said!"

"Ain't got one. Somebody made off with my notebook."

Just then the teacher came in, and everyone scrambled noisily to their feet, and Ichiro, from the very back, said,

"Bow."

was what he said.

Everyone fell quiet for the moment it took to bow, but then went right back to chattering all at once.

"Quiet, everyone. You must be quiet."

the teacher said.

"Shh, Etsuji, quit your racket! Kasuke, hush up! Waah!"

and Ichiro, from the very back, scolded the noisiest ones one by one.

Everyone fell silent.

The teacher said,

"Well, everyone, the long summer break was fun, wasn't it. I expect you swam every morning, shouted so loud in the woods you'd have put a hawk to shame, and went up to the high meadow with your big brothers when they cut grass. But the break came to an end yesterday. From now it's the second term, and it's autumn. They've always said that autumn is the season when body and mind draw taut together and study goes best. So from today, let's all study hard together again. And also, over the break, your circle of friends has grown by one — this is Takada here. His father has come, on business for his company, to the entrance of the high meadow. Takada was at a school in Hokkaido until now, but from today he's your friend, so whether it's lessons at school, or going to gather chestnuts, or going fishing, you must all be sure to invite Takada along. Understood? Whoever understands, raise your hand."

At once everyone raised their hands.

That child called Takada raised his hand vigorously too, so the teacher smiled a little, but then at once,

"You understand, then. Very good."

he said, and everyone put their hands down all together, like a fire snuffed out.

But Kasuke at once,

"Teacher!"

he said, and raised his hand again.

"Yes."

the teacher pointed at Kasuke.

"What'd ya say Takada's first name was?"

"It's Takada Saburo."

"Waah, well I'll be — so he really is Matasaburo, after all!"

Kasuke clapped his hands and all but danced in his seat, so the older children roared with laughter, but the little ones sat hushed, staring at Saburo as if half afraid of him.

The teacher spoke again.

"Now, today you were all to bring your report cards and your homework. Whoever's brought them, please put them out on your desk. I'll come round and collect them now."

Everyone bustled about, throwing open their bags and untying their wrapping cloths, and set their report cards and homework out on their desks.

And the teacher began collecting them in order, starting from the first-years.

Just then everyone gave a start.

The reason was that, without anyone noticing, a grown man had come to stand at the back of the room.

He wore a baggy white linen suit, with a glossy black handkerchief wound round his neck in place of a necktie, and he held a white fan in his hand, fanning his own face lightly, smiling a little as he looked down over everyone.

Well, everyone gradually fell perfectly silent, and grew quite stiff and still.

The teacher, though, seemed to pay the man no particular mind, and went on collecting the report cards in order until he came to Saburo's seat, where Saburo, having neither report card nor homework book, sat instead with both hands clenched into fists and set upon his desk.

The teacher passed by there without a word, and once he had collected everyone's, he squared them up with both hands and went back to the platform.

"Well then, I'll go over your homework books and hand them back next Saturday, so those of you who didn't bring yours today, be sure not to forget them tomorrow. That means Etsuji, Yuji, and Ryosaku. That's all for today. From tomorrow, come properly prepared as always. And now, fourth- and sixth-years, let's clean the classroom together with me. That's all."

Ichiro called, "Attention," and everyone stood up all at once.

The grown man at the back lowered his fan and stood up too.

"Bow."

The teacher and everyone bowed.

The grown man at the back gave a light bow of the head as well.

After that, the children from the lower classes bolted straight out of the classroom, but the fourth-years still hung back, fidgeting.

Then Saburo went over to that man from before in the baggy white clothes.

The teacher too stepped down from the platform and went over to him.

"Well now, thank you very much for your trouble."

The grown man bowed politely to the teacher.

"He'll be friends with everyone in no time."

the teacher said, returning the bow.

"I do hope you'll be so good as to look after him, whatever may come up. Well then."

The man bowed politely once more, and signaled to Saburo with his eyes, then went around toward the entrance himself and stepped outside to wait, and Saburo, with everyone watching, went silently out through the doorway, his eyes fixed straight ahead, caught him up, and the two of them walked off together across the playground, downstream.

As he left the playground, that child turned to look back this way, and glared hard, as though fixing his eyes on the school and on everyone in it, and then went trotting briskly on after the man in white once more.

"Teacher, is that man Takada's father?"

Ichiro asked the teacher, broom in hand.

"That's right."

"What'd he come here for?"

"They say there's an ore called molybdenum to be found at the entrance to the high meadow, and he's come to see about mining it, bit by bit."

"Whereabouts would that be, then?"

"I'm not quite sure myself yet, but it seems to be a little downstream from the path you all always take the horses along."

"What do they even do with this molybdenum?"

"They say it's mixed with iron, or used to make medicines."

"Then Matasaburo'll be diggin' it too, I s'pose?"

Kasuke said.

"He ain't Matasaburo. He's Takada Saburo."

Sataro said.

"He's Matasaburo, Matasaburo!"

Kasuke turned red in the face and stood his ground.

"Kasuke, if you're stayin' behind, help with the cleanin' too."

Ichiro said.

"Waah! I hate it! It's fourth- and sixth-years today, ain't it!"

Kasuke bolted out of the classroom in a great hurry and made his escape.

The wind came blowing through again, and the window glass rattled once more, and small black ripples ran across the bucket where the rags were kept.

The next day, Ichiro felt so eager to see whether that strange child would really come to school from now on and read his books like everyone else, that he called for Kasuke earlier than usual.

But it seemed Kasuke had been thinking about it even more than Ichiro, for he had already eaten his rice, bundled his books in a wrapping cloth, and was standing out in front of his house waiting for Ichiro.

The two of them talked about that child in all sorts of ways as they walked to school.

When they arrived, seven or eight little children were already gathered on the playground playing hide-the-stick, but that child hadn't come yet.

Thinking he might be in the classroom again like the day before, they peeked inside, but the classroom was perfectly silent and empty, and above the blackboard the streaks left by yesterday's rag-wiping had dried into faint, blurry white stripes.

"That fella from yesterday ain't come yet."

Ichiro said.

"Nope."

Kasuke said too, looking around the place.

Ichiro then went and stood beneath the horizontal bar, and using the technique called jami-agari, hauled himself up by main force onto the bar, worked his hands along it little by little to the right-hand post, sat himself down there, and waited, staring steadily off in the direction Saburo had gone the day before.

The mountain stream flowed off glittering that way, and up on the hill above it the wind seemed to be blowing too, for now and then the pampas grass rippled white.

Kasuke, too, kept gazing that way from beneath the same post, waiting.

But the two of them did not have to wait so very long.

For suddenly Saburo came running out from the path below, clutching a gray bag in his right hand.

"He's come!"

Ichiro was just about to shout down to Kasuke when Saburo, quick as anything, came right around the embankment and in through the main gate, and said,

"Morning."

clearly and plainly.

Everyone turned that way together, but not a single one of them answered.

It wasn't that they had no wish to answer — everyone had always been taught to say "Good morning, sir," to the teacher,

and had never once said just "Morning" to one another —

so when Saburo said it to them like that, Ichiro and Kasuke were so taken aback, and so caught off guard by his boldness, that in the end they lost their nerve, and instead of "Morning" all that came out of their mouths was a mumbled, muddled murmur.

Saburo, though, didn't seem to trouble himself over that in the least, and after taking two or three more steps forward, stood stock-still and swept his jet-black eyes all around the playground.

and seemed for a while to be looking for someone to play with.

But though everyone kept glancing his way, they all went on busily at their hide-the-stick, and not one of them went over to him.

Saburo stood there a moment looking rather awkward, then swept his eyes once more around the playground.

Then, as if to find out how many ken across the whole playground was, he set off walking with long strides, counting his paces from the main gate to the entrance.

Ichiro hastily dropped down from the horizontal bar and stood beside Kasuke, watching, holding his breath.

By and by Saburo reached the entrance on the far side, and turned to face this way, standing with his head tilted a little as if working out some sum in his head.

Everyone kept glancing that way all the same.

Saburo, looking a little troubled, folded his hands behind his back and set off walking past the front of the staff room toward the embankment on the far side.

Just then the wind came blowing through with a rush, and the grass on the embankment rippled and rustled, and dust rose up with a whoosh in the middle of the playground, and when it reached the front of the entrance it went spinning round and round into a little whirlwind, and the yellow dust took on the shape of an upended bottle and rose higher than the roof.

Then Kasuke suddenly said, loud and clear.

"That's it. He really is Matasaburo, after all. Whenever he does anything, the wind's sure to come blowin'."

"Mm."

Ichiro, not quite sure what to make of it, said nothing and only kept watching that way.

Saburo, paying no mind to any of that, went on trotting briskly toward the embankment.

Just then the teacher came out of the entrance as usual, whistle in hand.

"Good morning, sir."

All the little children gathered together.

"Good morning."

The teacher glanced quickly around the playground, then, "Now then, line up,"

he said, blowing his whistle — birrr.

Everyone came and lined up neatly, just as they had the day before.

Saburo too stood exactly where he had been told to stand the day before.

The sun was directly in the teacher's face, so he squinted a little as he called out the orders one after another, and at last everyone went in through the entrance and into the classroom.

And once the bow was done, the teacher said,

"Well then, everyone, let's begin our lessons today. You've all brought your things properly, haven't you. Now, first-years — and second-years — take out your calligraphy models, your inkstones, and your paper; second- and fourth-years, take out your arithmetic books, your notebooks, and your pencils; and fifth- and sixth-years, take out your language readers."

Well, at that, a great commotion broke out here, there, and everywhere.

Among them, Sataro, at the fourth-year desk right beside Saburo, suddenly reached out and, quick as a flash, snatched away the pencil belonging to Kayo, a second-year.

Kayo was Sataro's little sister.

At that Kayo said,

"Waah, big brother, you took my wood pen, that ain't fair!"

and tried to snatch it back, but Sataro,

"Waah, this here's mine now!"

he said, tucking the pencil away inside his kimono, and after that he put both hands into his sleeves the way a Chinese man does when he bows, and pressed his chest tight against the desk.

At that Kayo came over and stood there,

"Brother, your own wood pen you went and lost in the shed yesterday, didn't ya. Give it here, I said!"

she said, trying with all her might to get it back, but Sataro had turned himself into something like a great fossil crab stuck fast to the desk, so that in the end Kayo stood there with her mouth twisted wide, about to burst into tears.

Saburo had set his language reader properly on his desk and was watching all this with a troubled look, but when he saw Kayo's tears finally come spilling out, he silently laid the pencil he had been holding in his right hand — worn down to about half its length — on the desk in front of Sataro.

At that Sataro suddenly perked up and sat bolt upright.

and,

"You givin' it to me?"

he asked Saburo.

Saburo looked a little flustered for a moment, but then, as though resigning himself, "Mm."

he said.

At that Sataro burst out laughing all at once and pressed the pencil from inside his kimono into Kayo's small red hand.

The teacher, over on the other side, was busy pouring water into a first-year's inkstone and the like, and Kasuke, being right in front of Saburo, didn't notice any of this, but Ichiro, at the very back, saw it all plainly.

and, not knowing quite what to make of it, felt a strange feeling come over him, and ground his teeth.

"Now, second-years, let's practice once more the subtraction you learned before the break. See if you can work this out."

The teacher wrote a problem on the blackboard.

The second-years all copied it down into their notebooks as hard as they could.

Kayo too bent her head close to her notebook.

"Fourth-years, leave this be for now."

and wrote a new problem for them.

The fourth-years, Sataro and Kizo and Kosuke and all the rest, copied it down too.

"Fifth-years, open your readers to page — , lesson — , and read as far as you can silently, without making a sound. Any characters you don't know, gather them up in your notebook."

The fifth-years all began doing just as they were told.

"Ichiro, please look over page — of your reader too, and pick out any characters you don't know."

Once that was done, the teacher stepped down from the platform again and went round looking at the first-years' calligraphy, one by one.

Saburo held his book properly on his desk with both hands and read the assigned passage steadily, without so much as taking a breath.

But he hadn't written out a single character in his notebook.

Whether that was because there really wasn't a single character he didn't know, or because he'd given his one and only pencil away to Sataro, no one could say.

Meanwhile the teacher went back to the platform, worked through the second- and fourth-years' arithmetic problems for them and set new ones, and this time wrote up on the blackboard the unfamiliar characters the fifth-years had noted in their notebooks, adding the kana readings and explanations.

And,

"Now then, Kasuke, read this part."

he said.

Kasuke stumbled two or three times but read it through with the teacher's help.

Saburo listened in silence too.

The teacher took up his own book as well and listened closely, but after about ten lines,

"That's far enough."

he said, and this time the teacher read it aloud himself.

And once they had all gone through it once, the teacher had everyone gradually pack their things away.

Then, "That's all for now,"

he said, standing on the platform, and Ichiro, from the back, said,

"Attention."

he said.

And once the bow was done, everyone filed out in order, and this time, instead of lining up outside, they scattered and played however they pleased.

The second hour was singing, for everyone from first-years to sixth-years alike.

The teacher came out with his mandolin, and everyone sang five songs they had already learned, following along with his mandolin.

Saburo knew them all too, and everyone sang away merrily.

And this hour passed by very quickly indeed.

By the third hour, this time it was the second- and fourth-years doing language, and the fifth- and sixth-years doing mathematics.

The teacher again wrote a problem on the blackboard and had the fifth- and sixth-years work it out.

After a while Ichiro finished writing down his answer, and glanced over at Saburo.

Saburo, though, had produced from somewhere a little stick of charred wood, and was scratching out some great calculation across his notebook with it.

The next morning, the sky was beautifully clear, and the mountain stream murmured on.

Ichiro called for Kasuke, Sataro, and Etsuji along the way, and together they set off toward Saburo's house.

A little downstream of the school they crossed the mountain stream, and there on the bank each of them broke off a willow branch, peeled the green bark round and round to make a whip, and swishing them through the air with a whir, climbed on and on up the road toward the high meadow.

Before long, climbing, they were all panting for breath.

"D'ya think Matasaburo's really waitin' for us at that spring up there?"

"'Course he's waitin'. Matasaburo don't tell no lies."

"Ah, it's hot. Wish the wind'd blow."

"Wind's blowin' from somewhere already."

"That'll be Matasaburo blowin' it, I bet."

"Somehow the sun's gone kind of hazy."

A few wisps of white cloud had come out in the sky.

And by now they had climbed a good way up.

All the houses down in the valley could be seen far below, and the roof of the woodshed at Ichiro's house shone white.

The road entered the woods, and for a while it grew damp underfoot, and they could see nothing of what lay around them.

And before long they came near the spring where they had agreed to meet.

Then from there,

"Hoy! You all come?"

came Saburo's voice, ringing out loud.

Everyone went scrambling and hurrying on up.

Round the bend ahead, Saburo stood with his small lips pressed firmly shut, watching the three of them come racing up.

The three of them finally reached Saburo.

But they were panting so hard they couldn't say a word right away.

Kasuke, in particular, found it so unbearable that he turned his face up to the sky and gave a great "Hoh-hoh!"

trying to get his breath out quickly that way.

At that Saburo laughed out loud.

"You waited a long time. And they say it might rain today, too."

"Then let's get goin' quick. I'll just drink some water first."

The three of them wiped away their sweat and crouched down, scooping up again and again the cold water that came bubbling out from the pure white rock, and drinking it.

"My house is just a little way from here. Right about up over that valley there. Let's all stop by on the way back."

"Sure. Let's get to the meadow first, though."

As everyone set off walking again, the spring gave a great gurgling sound as if it were telling them something, and the trees round about seemed to rustle with a great rush too.

The five of them made their way through the thickets at the edge of the woods, and past several small crumbling patches of rock, and were now getting close to the entrance of the high meadow.

When they reached that point, they looked back west, the way they had come.

Beyond the many hills, layered one behind another, catching the light and falling into shadow, the real meadow along the river spread out faintly blue-green in the distance.

"There, that's the river."

"It's like the sash of the Kasuga deity."

Saburo said.

"Like what, did ya say?"

Ichiro asked.

"Like the sash of the Kasuga deity."

"You ever even seen a god's sash?"

"I saw one in Hokkaido."

Nobody knew quite what he meant, and everyone fell silent.

Sure enough, that spot really was the entrance to the high meadow, and there stood one great chestnut tree in the middle of the neatly mown grass, its trunk charred black at the base into something like a great hollow, and from its branches hung old ropes and worn-out straw sandals and the like.

"Go a little further on and everybody's out cuttin' grass. There's a place where the horses are, too."

Ichiro said, walking on ahead down the single path through the mown grass.

Saburo walked next, right behind him,

"There's no bears here, so it's fine to let the horses run loose, huh."

he said as he walked.

After a while, at the foot of a big oak tree by the roadside, a rope-woven sack lay tossed aside, and heaps of cut grass lay scattered here and there.

Two horses with bundles of grass on their backs snorted through their noses when they saw Ichiro.

"Brother, you there? Brother, we've come!"

Ichiro shouted, wiping away his sweat.

"Oy! Aye! Stay right there. I'm comin' now."

came the voice of Ichiro's big brother, from a hollow far off.

The sun broke out bright, and his brother came out laughing from among the grass over that way.

"Ya made it. Brought everybody along too, did ya. Good, good. Take the horses back with ya when ya go. It'll cloud over for sure come afternoon today. I'll gather a bit more grass and be done, so if you're gonna play, stay inside that embankment there. There's still about twenty of the grazing horses in there."

His brother started off the other way, then turned back and said again,

"Don't go outside the embankment now. It's dangerous if you get lost. I'll come back again when it's noon."

"All right. We'll stay inside the embankment."

And with that Ichiro's brother went off.

Thin clouds had spread all across the sky, and the sun had turned into something like a white mirror, racing along against the clouds.

The wind picked up, and the uncut grass rippled in waves everywhere.

Ichiro led the way straight along the little path, and before long they came to the embankment.

At one worn-away spot in the embankment, two round log poles had been laid across it.

Etsuji was about to duck under it when Kasuke,

"I'll get this thing off, watch."

he said, and pulled out one end and lowered it, so everyone hopped over it and went inside.

A little way off on slightly higher ground, some seven glossy brown horses were gathered together, swishing their tails lazily back and forth.

"They say every one of these horses is worth more'n a thousand yen. Startin' next year they're gonna run 'em in real horse races too, they say."

Ichiro said, walking closer to them.

The horses all came drifting over toward Ichiro and the others, as if they'd been dreadfully lonesome until just now.

and stretched their muzzles right out, as if they wanted something.

"Ha, they want salt, that's what."

everyone said, holding out their hands and letting the horses lick them, but Saburo alone, not being used to horses, looked uneasy and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Waah, Matasaburo's scared of horses!"

Etsuji said.

At that Saburo,

"I ain't scared of nothin'."

he said, and quickly reached his hand back out of his pocket toward a horse's muzzle, but when the horse stretched out its neck and stuck out its tongue with a great lick, his face changed color in an instant and he swiftly stuffed his hand back into his pocket again.

"Waah, Matasaburo's scared of horses!"

Etsuji said again.

At that Saburo turned bright red all over and fidgeted awkwardly for a while, but then,

"Well then, shall we all have a horse race?"

he said.

Everyone wondered just what a horse race was supposed to be.

At that Saburo,

"I've seen real horse races, plenty of times. But none of these horses have saddles, so we can't ride them. Let's each chase after one horse, and whoever's is first to reach that big tree over there — see it? — wins."

"That'll be fun."

Kasuke said.

"We'll get scolded. If the herdsmen catch us at it."

"It's fine. Horses running in real races have to be given practice like this too, you know."

Saburo said.

"Right, this horse here's mine."

"This one's mine."

"Well then, I guess this one'll do for me."

Everyone struck the horses lightly with willow branches or plumes of pampas grass, saying, "Shoo!"

But the horses didn't so much as flinch.

They just went on hanging their heads to sniff at the grass, or stretching their necks out to get a better look at the scenery around them.

At that Ichiro clapped his hands together with a sharp crack and shouted, "Daa!"

and all at once, all seven horses, manes streaming together, broke into a run.

"Off they go!"

Kasuke leapt up and ran.

But it really didn't turn into much of a race, after all.

First of all, the horses ran along just about neck and neck the whole way, and besides, they weren't running fast enough for it to be much of a race at all.

Even so, everyone found it great fun, and chased along after them with all their might, shouting "Daa!"

After a little way, the horses looked as if they were about to stop.

Everyone was panting a bit too, but they held on and chased the horses again.

Then, before they knew it, the horses had circled round that same rise and come to the gap in the embankment the five of them had come in through earlier.

"Ah, the horses are gettin' out, the horses are gettin' out! Stop 'em, stop 'em!"

Ichiro shouted, his face gone white.

Sure enough, the horses did seem to be getting outside the embankment.

They kept on running, and were about to clear the log poles from before.

Ichiro, in a great fluster,

"Whoa, whoa, whoa there!"

he shouted, running there with all his might, and by the time he finally reached it and spread his arms wide, all but stumbling as he went, two of the horses had already gone out past the fence.

"Come quick and hold 'em! Quick!"

Ichiro shouted, gasping for breath, and set the log poles back the way they had been.

The four others ran over, hurried under the logs and out, but by then the two horses weren't running anymore — they stood outside the embankment, tugging at the grass with their mouths to pull it up.

"Easy now, hold 'em easy."

Ichiro said, and firmly gripped the tag fastened to one horse's bit.

When Kasuke and Saburo came near to catch the other one, the horse, as if startled, bolted off along the embankment, straight south, as fast as it could go.

"Brother! The horse is gettin' away, the horse is gettin' away! Brother, the horse is gettin' away!"

Ichiro shouted with all his might from behind.

Saburo and Kasuke chased after the horse with all their might.

But this time the horse really did seem set on getting away for good.

It ran on and on through grass as tall as a person, sometimes rising to higher ground, sometimes dropping low, running no one knew how far.

Kasuke's legs had gone numb, and he no longer knew where he was running or how.

Then everything around him turned pure white, and spun round and round, and at last he fell down into the deep grass.

The horse's red mane, and Saburo's white cap chasing after it, flickered into view once more, at the very end.

Kasuke lay flat on his back and looked up at the sky.

The sky shone pure white and spun round and round, and beneath it, thin mouse-gray clouds went racing by, fast, fast.

And they clanged, clang, clang.

Kasuke at last sat up, and, breathing hard and fast, set off walking in the direction the horse had gone.

In the grass there was something like a faint path, the trace, it seemed, of where the horse and Saburo had just passed.

Kasuke laughed.

and thought to himself, (Hmph, the horse's probably just stopped somewhere, scared stiff, standing there.)

So Kasuke set off after that trail with all his might.

But before he'd gone even a hundred paces, the trail split into two, then three, among the valerian and the towering thistles, until he could no longer tell which was which at all.

Kasuke shouted, "Hoy!"

he cried out.

"Hoy!"

came what sounded like Saburo shouting from somewhere.

Making up his mind, he pressed on along the middle one.

But even that trail kept breaking off in places, or crossing sideways over steep ground no horse could ever have walked.

The sky grew very dark and heavy, and everything round about turned hazy and dim.

A cold wind began sweeping across the grass, and now clouds and mist, torn into ragged shreds, went streaming rapidly past right before his eyes.

(Ah, this has taken a bad turn.

Everything bad is going to come piling on now, all at once.)

Kasuke thought.

And sure enough, just as he thought, the horse's trail suddenly vanished into the grass.

(Ah, it's gone bad, it's gone bad.)

Kasuke's heart pounded.

The grass bent low, crackling and rustling.

The mist grew especially thick, and his clothes were soaked clean through.

Kasuke shouted with all the strength in his throat.

"Ichiro, Ichiro, come this way!"

But no answer came at all.

Dark, cold droplets of mist, like chalk dust falling from a blackboard, went dancing all around, and everything about him fell suddenly still, growing gloomier and gloomier.

From the grass now came the sound of droplets falling, pit, pit, pit.

Kasuke, wanting now to get back to Ichiro and the others as quickly as he could, hurried back the way he had come.

But somehow it didn't seem to be the same way he had come by before.

For one thing, there were far too many thistles, and besides, scattered here and there in the grass were rocky outcrops that hadn't been there before.

And then, all at once, a great ravine he had never heard of before appeared right in front of him.

The plume grass rustled and rattled, and beyond it the ground seemed to vanish into the mist like a bottomless ravine — was it not so?

Whenever the wind came, the plumes of the grass stretched out their many slender hands and waved them busily, as if to say,

"Ah, west, sir! Ah, east, sir! Ah, west, sir! Ah, south, sir! Ah, west, sir!"

or something like that.

Kasuke found it all so unsettling that he shut his eyes and turned away.

and hurried back the way he had come.

A little black path suddenly appeared right in the middle of the grass.

It had been worn there by the hoofprints of a great many horses.

Kasuke, half out of his mind, gave a short burst of laughter and went striding fast along that path.

But there was nothing to rely on — the path's width kept changing, sometimes narrowing to about five inches, sometimes widening to about three feet, and besides, it seemed somehow to be curving round and round in a circle.

And at last, when he came before the great charred chestnut tree at the top, it split hazily into several branches at once.

That spot had probably been a gathering place for the wild horses.

It looked, through the mist, like a round open clearing.

Kasuke's heart sank, and he set off back down the black path once more.

Unfamiliar grass-plumes swayed quietly, and whenever a somewhat stronger gust of wind came, as though something somewhere were giving a signal, the whole sea of grass all bowed low together and ducked out of its way, as if to say, here it comes.

The sky shone, ringing out kiin, kiin.

And then, right there in the mist before his eyes, a great black shape like a house appeared.

Kasuke stood still for a moment, doubting his own eyes, but it still looked so very much like a house that, trembling with fear, he crept closer to look — and it turned out to be nothing but a great cold black rock.

The sky wavered white, round and round and round, and the grass all at once shook off its droplets in a sudden spatter.

(If we make a mistake and come down on the far side of the moor, Matasaburo and I both are as good as dead.)

Kasuke said, half thinking it, half muttering it aloud.

Then he shouted.

"Ichiro, Ichiro, you there? Ichiro!"

It grew bright again.

All the grass drew a joyful breath together, all at once.

"That electrician's boy from Isado town, they say the mountain man tied up his hands and feet."

came the words of something someone had once said, ringing clear in his ears.

And the black path suddenly vanished.

Everything around fell still, just for a moment.

Then an extremely strong wind came blowing through.

The sky flapped and shimmered like a flag, turning over and over, and sparks crackled and burned, pop, pop, pop.

Kasuke at last fell down into the grass and dropped off to sleep.

*

All of that seemed now like something that had happened somewhere far away.

Matasaburo was already right there before his eyes, legs stretched out, gazing silently up at the sky.

Somehow, over his usual mouse-gray jacket, he now wore a cloak of glass.

And on his feet he wore shining glass shoes.

On Matasaburo's shoulder fell the blue shadow of the chestnut tree.

Matasaburo's own shadow, too, fell blue across the grass.

And the wind was blowing on and on and on.

Matasaburo neither smiled nor spoke a word.

He only pressed his small lips firmly shut, as though holding something strong within them, and gazed silently at the sky.

All at once Matasaburo leapt lightly up into the sky.

His glass cloak flashed and glittered.

*

Kasuke suddenly opened his eyes.

Gray mist was streaming past, fast, fast.

And there, right before his eyes, a horse stood, looming.

Its eyes, afraid of Kasuke, were turned off to one side.

Kasuke leapt up and grabbed hold of the horse's name-tag.

From behind it, Saburo came out toward him, his lips pressed firmly shut, gone quite colorless.

Kasuke trembled all over.

"Hoy!"

came the voice of Ichiro's brother, out of the mist.

Thunder rumbled too.

"Hoy, Kasuke! You there? Kasuke!"

came Ichiro's voice as well.

Kasuke leapt up with joy.

"Hoy! I'm here, I'm here! Ichiro! Hoy!"

Ichiro's brother and Ichiro suddenly stood right there before his eyes.

Kasuke suddenly burst into tears.

"We were searchin' for ya. That was dangerous. You're soaked through. Whoa now."

Ichiro's brother, with a practiced hand, put his arm around the horse's neck and quickly fitted the bit he'd brought into its mouth.

"Right, let's go."

"Matasaburo, ya must've had a scare, huh."

Ichiro said to Saburo.

Saburo said nothing, only nodded, his mouth pressed firmly shut as ever.

Everyone followed Ichiro's brother, going up and down two gentle slopes.

Then they walked on for a while along a great black path.

Lightning flashed faintly white, twice or so.

There was a smell of burning grass, and smoke drifted hazily through the mist.

Ichiro's brother called out.

"Grandfather! We're here, we're here! Everybody's here!"

Grandfather stood there in the mist, and,

"Ah, I was worried, I was worried. Ah, thank goodness. Oh, Kasuke. You must be cold, come on in."

he said.

It seemed Kasuke, just like Ichiro, was this grandfather's grandson too.

At the foot of a great chestnut tree, half burned, there was a small enclosure made of grass, with a little red fire flickering inside it.

Ichiro's brother tied the horse to an oak tree.

The horse whinnied too.

"Well now, poor thing, poor thing. However much did ya cry, eh. This lad here's the gold-miner's boy, ain't he. Come, come, everybody eat some dumplings. Eat up. There now, I'll build up the fire here. Just where all did ya go?"

"Down at the mouth of Sasanagane."

Ichiro's brother answered.

"That was dangerous. That was dangerous. If you'd come down the other side, horse and all, that'd have been the end of it. Now then, Kasuke, eat your dumplings. This lad too, eat up. Come, come, you too, eat."

"Grandfather, I'll go put the horse back."

Ichiro's brother said.

"Aye, aye. If the herdsman comes, there'll be a fuss again, so wait a bit longer. It'll clear up again soon. Ah, I was worried. I went and had a look all the way to the foot of Tora Mountain myself. Well, that's a relief. The rain'll clear too."

"The weather was so fine this mornin', too."

"Aye. It'll turn fine again. Ah, the rain's started leakin' in."

Ichiro's brother went out.

The roof went rustling and rattling, rustle, rustle.

Grandfather looked up at it, laughing.

His brother came back in again.

"Grandfather, it's brightened up. The rain's cleared."

"Aye, aye, has it now. Well, everybody warm yourselves good by the fire. I'll go and cut grass again."

The mist suddenly broke apart.

Sunlight came streaming in all at once.

The sun hung a little toward the west now, and a few wisps of mist, like wax, too slow to escape, shone helplessly in the light.

Droplets fell glittering from the grass, and every leaf, every stem, every flower drank in the light of this year's last such day.

Far off to the west, the blue-green meadow smiled dazzlingly now, as if it had just stopped crying, and the chestnut tree over there sent out a blue halo of light.

Everyone, tired out by now, followed Ichiro down off the moor.

At the spring, Saburo again said nothing, and parted from the others with his mouth pressed firmly shut, going off alone toward his father's cabin.

As they walked back, Kasuke said,

"He really is the wind god, after all. The wind god's very own kid. The two of 'em must be nestin' out there together."

"That ain't so."

Ichiro said loudly.

The next day it rained in the morning, but from the second hour it began gradually brightening, and by the ten-minute break at the end of the third hour it had cleared completely, and here and there patches of blue sky appeared as if carved out, with pure white fish-scale clouds racing steadily eastward beneath them, while the last of the mist rose up like steam from the pampas grass on the hill and from the chestnut trees too.

"When we get down, why don't we go pick wild grapevine?"

Kosuke said quietly to Kasuke.

"Let's go, let's go. Won't Saburo come too?"

Kasuke invited him.

Kosuke,

"Waah, don't go tellin' him about that spot!"

he said, but Saburo, not knowing anything about it,

"I'll go. I picked some in Hokkaido too. My mother pickled two whole tubs of it."

he said.

"Take me along to pick grapes too, won't ya?"

Shokichi, a second-year, said too.

"No way. Ain't tellin' the likes of you. I found a whole new spot myself last year."

Everyone could hardly wait for school to end.

When the fifth hour ended, Ichiro, Kasuke, Sataro, Kosuke, Etsuji, and Saburo — six of them — set off from the school, climbing upstream.

After a little way there was a single thatch-roofed house, with a small tobacco field in front of it.

The lower leaves of the tobacco plants had already been picked, so their green stalks stood lined up neatly like a little forest, and looked altogether quite interesting.

Then Saburo suddenly,

"What's this leaf, then?"

he said, plucking off a leaf and showing it to Ichiro.

At that Ichiro was startled, and,

"Waah, Matasaburo, if you go pickin' tobacco leaves the Monopoly Bureau'll give you an awful scoldin'! Waah, Matasaburo, what'd you go and pick it for?"

he said, his face going a little pale.

Everyone chimed in too.

"Waah! The Monopoly Bureau counts every single leaf and writes it down in a ledger, ya know. I don't know nothin' about it."

"I don't know nothin' either."

"I don't know nothin' either."

Everyone jeered together in one voice.

At that Saburo turned bright red in the face, and stood there a while, twirling the leaf around, trying to think what to say, but then,

"I picked it without knowin', that's all."

he said, sounding angry.

Everyone looked fearfully over at the house yonder, as if wondering whether anyone was watching.

Beyond the thick steam rising up from the tobacco field, the house stood perfectly silent, and seemed as though no one were home at all.

"That house belongs to Kosuke, the first-year."

Kasuke said, a little placatingly.

But Kosuke, right from the start, had been unhappy about Saburo and everyone else coming to the grapevine thicket he himself had found, and so he spitefully said to Saburo once more,

"Waah, no matter how much you say ya didn't know, that don't cut it. Waah, look how Saburo's tryin' to smooth it all over."

Saburo looked troubled and stayed silent again for a while, but then,

"Well then, I'll just leave it here, that'll do."

he said, and quietly set the leaf down at the foot of the tree from before.

At that Ichiro,

"Let's get goin' quick."

he said, and set off walking ahead, so everyone followed after him, but Kosuke alone stayed behind a moment, saying, "Ha, I don't know nothin'. Look, there's the leaf Matasaburo left, right there."

and going on like that, but since everyone else went striding on, Kosuke finally caught up too.

Everyone climbed a little way up the mountain along a small path through the pampas grass, and there in a hollow facing south, chestnut trees stood scattered here and there, and below them a great tangled thicket of grapevine grew thick and heavy.

"I found this spot myself, so don't nobody go and pick too much."

Kosuke said.

At that Saburo,

"I'm gonna get the chestnuts instead."

he said, and picked up a stone and threw it at one of the branches.

One green burr fell down.

Saburo peeled it open with a stick and got two chestnuts, still white.

Everyone else was hard at work on the grapes.

Meanwhile Kosuke, on his way to another thicket, passed beneath one of the chestnut trees, and all at once a great shower of droplets came pouring down from above, so that Kosuke got soaked from shoulders to back as if he'd fallen into water.

Kosuke, startled, opened his mouth and looked up, and there was Saburo, who had somehow climbed up into the tree, looking down and laughing a little himself while wiping his own face with his sleeve.

"Waah, Matasaburo, what're ya doin'!"

Kosuke looked up at the tree, resentfully.

"The wind blew, that's all."

Saburo said from up above, chuckling.

Kosuke left the foot of the tree and went to start picking grapes at another thicket.

By now Kosuke had gathered so much here and there that he could hardly carry it all himself, and his mouth had turned purple and looked all the bigger for it.

"Right, isn't that enough to head back with?"

Ichiro said.

"I'm gonna pick some more."

Kosuke said.

Just then Kosuke got another great shower of cold droplets poured down over his head.

Kosuke, startled again, looked up at the tree, but this time Saburo wasn't up in it.

But he could see Saburo's mouse-gray elbow poking out on the far side of the tree, and heard his chuckling laugh too, so Kosuke was now thoroughly furious.

"Waah, Matasaburo, you went and threw water on somebody again!"

"The wind blew, that's all."

Everyone burst out laughing all together.

"Waah, Matasaburo, you were the one shakin' that tree over there, weren't ya!"

Everyone burst out laughing all together again.

At that Kosuke stayed silent a while, looking resentfully at Saburo's face, and then,

"Waah, Matasaburo, the world'd be better off without a fella like you in it, huh."

At that Saburo laughed slyly.

"Well, Kosuke, my apologies."

Kosuke wanted to say something else, something different, but he was too furious to think of anything, and so he shouted the same thing again.

"Waah, waah, that's right, Matasaburo, the world don't need no wind like you in it at all, waaah."

"My apologies — but that's only 'cause you were bein' so mean to me yourself."

Saburo said, blinking a little, sounding somewhat sorry.

But Kosuke's anger would not ease up so easily.

And he repeated the same thing a third time.

"Waah, Matasaburo, the world don't need no wind at all, waah."

At that Saburo seemed to find it rather amusing, and, chuckling again, asked,

"What d'you mean, the world would be better off without wind? Go on, list your reasons why it'd be better. There, let's hear it."

Saburo put on a face like a teacher and held up one finger.

Kosuke felt it was turning into something like an exam, and thought it a tiresome business, and felt very put out, but had no choice, and after thinking a while, said,

"You're always up to mischief, breakin' people's umbrellas and such."

"And then? And then?"

Saburo said, looking pleased, taking a step forward.

"And then breakin' trees and knockin' things over, too."

"And then? And then what?"

"Breakin' houses down too."

"And then? And then, what else?"

"Blowin' out lights too."

"And then what? And then what? What else?"

"Blowin' off hats too."

"And then? And then what? What else?"

"Blowin' off caps too."

"And then? And then?"

"And then, uh, um, knockin' down telegraph poles too."

"And then? And then? And then?"

"And then blowin' off roofs too."

"Ha ha ha ha! A roof's part of the house already! Anything else? And then, and then?"

"And then, uh, um, blowin' out lamps too."

"Ha ha ha ha ha! A lamp's the same as blowin' out lights already! Is that all you've got? Hey, come on. And then? And then, and then?"

Kosuke was stumped.

He had pretty much said everything already, and no matter how hard he thought, nothing more would come.

Saburo, looking more and more pleased, held up one finger and said,

"And then? And then? Eh? And then?"

was what he kept saying.

Kosuke turned red in the face and thought for a while, and at last managed to answer.

"Breakin' windmills too."

At that, Saburo, this time, all but leapt up laughing.

Everyone else laughed too.

They laughed and laughed and laughed.

Saburo finally stopped laughing and said,

"There, see, in the end you went and said windmills too. But a windmill's got nothin' against wind — sure, sometimes it gets broken, but it's turned by the wind far more often than that. A windmill doesn't think badly of wind at all. And besides, your whole way of countin' has been ridiculous from the start. Um, uh, that's all you kept sayin', and in the end you even went and counted windmills. Ha, that's too funny."

Saburo laughed again until he nearly had tears in his eyes.

Kosuke, too, had gradually forgotten how angry he'd been from being so flustered before.

and before he knew it, he'd started laughing right along with Saburo.

At that Saburo's mood brightened completely too, and,

"Kosuke, sorry about the mischief."

he said.

"Right, let's get goin', then."

Ichiro said, and gave Saburo about five bunches of grapes.

Saburo shared out the white chestnuts, two apiece, to everyone.

And they all climbed down together as far as the lower road, and after that each went home to his own house.

The next morning, a damp mist was falling, and even the hill behind the school could barely be made out through it.

But today too, from about the second hour it gradually cleared, and before long the sky turned deep blue, and the sun blazed down, and by noon, once the first- and second-years had gone home, it had turned as hot as summer itself.

In the afternoon the teacher himself kept wiping sweat from his brow up on the platform, and the fourth-years' calligraphy and the fifth- and sixth-years' drawing were both so sweltering that they grew drowsy even as they worked.

As soon as classes were over, everyone set off together downstream.

Kasuke said,

"Matasaburo, ain't you comin' for a swim? All the little ones are already down there now."

he said, so Saburo went along too.

That spot was a little further downstream than where they had gone to the high meadow before, and another mountain stream came in from the right, making for a somewhat wide riverbed, and just below it there was a cliff where a great honey locust tree grew.

"Hoy!"

shouted the children who had already arrived, naked, raising both hands.

Ichiro and everyone else raced through the silk trees along the riverbed as if in a footrace, stripped off their clothes at once, and plunged splash after splash into the water, kicking their legs by turns and slapping the water with great splashes as they swam slantwise in a row toward the far bank.

The children who had been there already caught up from behind and started swimming too.

Saburo too stripped off his clothes and began swimming after everyone else, but partway across he burst out laughing.

At that Ichiro, having reached the far bank, his hair plastered down like a seal's, his lips gone purple, shivering all over, said,

"Waah, Matasaburo, what're ya laughin' at?"

he said.

Saburo, still shivering, climbed out of the water and said,

"This river's cold, isn't it."

he said.

"Matasaburo, what were ya laughin' at?"

Ichiro asked again.

Saburo,

"The way you all swim is funny. Why d'you go slappin' your legs about like that?"

he said, and laughed again.

"Waaah!"

Ichiro said, but seeming a little embarrassed somehow,

"Say, want to try stone-divin'?"

he said, picking up a round white stone.

"Yeah, let's, let's!"

all the children shouted.

"I'll drop it from up in that tree there, all right."

Ichiro said, and climbed nimbly up the honey locust tree growing out from partway up the cliff.

And,

"Right, here it goes. One, two, three."

he said, and dropped the white stone with a splash into the pool below.

Everyone dove headlong into the water from the bank, racing each other, shaped like pale blue-white otters, and dove down to the bottom trying to grab the stone.

But before any of them reached the bottom their breath ran out and they came bobbing back up, each in turn blowing out a spray of mist round about.

Saburo watched everyone doing it for a while, but once they had all come back up, he too plunged in with a splash.

But he too came floating back up without reaching the bottom, so everyone burst out laughing.

Just then, over by the silk trees on the far riverbed, four grown men came toward them, some stripped to the waist, some carrying nets.

At that Ichiro, up in the tree, lowered his voice and called out to everyone.

"Oh, it's a blast! Act like you don't notice. Stop the stone-divin' and everybody get downstream quick."

So everyone, trying not to look that way as much as they could, went on picking up whetstones together, or chasing wagtails, pretending not to notice the blast at all.

Then, on the bank of the pool over there, Shosuke, who worked downstream as a miner, looked around here and there for a while, then suddenly sat himself down cross-legged on the gravel.

Then he slowly took a tobacco pouch from his waist, put the pipe to his mouth, and puffed away at it.

Just as everyone was thinking how strange it all was, he took something else out from his apron.

"It's a blast, it's a blast!"

everyone shouted.

Ichiro waved his hand to stop them.

Shosuke quietly transferred the fire from his pipe to it.

The man standing behind him went straight into the water and readied his net.

Shosuke, looking perfectly calm, stepped one foot into the water and at once threw the thing he was holding in under the honey locust tree.

Then, before long, a tremendous booming sound came, and the water swelled up in a great heave, and for a while afterward the whole place rang with a high, keening sound.

The grown men over there all went into the water.

"Right, here they come, floatin' down. Everybody catch 'em."

Ichiro said.

Before long Kosuke grabbed a little brown sculpin, about the size of a little finger, that came floating down sideways, and behind him Kasuke let out a cry just like someone slurping down a melon.

He had caught a crucian carp about six inches long, and his face had gone bright red with joy.

After that everyone caught fish too, whooping with delight.

"Quiet, quiet."

Ichiro said.

Just then, over on the white riverbed opposite, five or six grown men came running, some stripped to the waist, some wearing only their shirts.

And behind them, just like something out of a moving picture, a man in a net-weave shirt came galloping straight toward them, riding bareback.

Everyone had heard the sound of the blast and come to see.

Shosuke stood there a while with his arms folded, watching everyone catch fish, but then,

"Not a single one left."

he said.

Then Saburo, before anyone noticed, had gone over next to Shosuke.

And took two medium-sized crucian carp,

"Here, givin' the fish back."

and set them down on the riverbed, almost tossing them.

At that Shosuke,

"What's this, a strange kid you are."

he said, looking Saburo over closely.

Saburo said nothing and came back this way.

Shosuke stood watching with an odd look on his face.

Everyone burst out laughing all together.

Shosuke said nothing more and set off walking upstream again.

The other grown men followed after him too, and the man in the net-weave shirt got back on his horse and galloped off again.

Kosuke swam over and brought back the fish Saburo had left behind.

Everyone laughed again at that.

"If they're settin' off blasts, let the little fish scatter free."

Kasuke shouted out loud, hopping up and down on the sandy riverbed.

Everyone penned in the fish they had caught with stones, making a little holding pool so that even if they came back to life they couldn't get away, and then started climbing up the honey locust tree again.

It had really turned hot now, and even the silk trees looked as limp as they would in high summer, and the sky itself had become like a bottomless pool.

About that time someone shouted,

"Ah, someone's about to wreck the holding pool!"

he cried out.

Looking over, there was a man with an oddly pointed nose, wearing Western clothes and straw sandals, holding something like a walking stick, stirring up all their fish into a muddy mess.

That man came sloshing along the bank toward them, splish, splash.

"Ah, that's the Monopoly Bureau! The Monopoly Bureau!"

Sataro said.

"Matasaburo, he found the tobacco leaf you picked, he's come to take you away!"

Kasuke said.

"So what. I ain't scared."

Saburo said, biting down hard.

"Everybody surround Matasaburo, surround him!"

Ichiro said.

So everyone set Saburo on the very middle branch of the honey locust tree, and sat themselves down all around him on the branches nearby.

"He's comin', he's comin', he's comin', he's comin'!"

Everyone held their breath.

But that man showed no sign at all of trying to catch Saburo, and passed right on by in front of everyone, and then tried to cross the shallows just upstream from the pool.

Even then he didn't cross the river right away, but went back and forth again and again, as if he were simply washing off the mud from his straw sandals and leggings, so that everyone gradually stopped being afraid — but instead began to feel uneasy in a different way.

At that, at last, Ichiro said,

"R-right, I'll shout first, and everybody else shout after me, on the count of one, two, three. Got it?

"Don't go muddyin' up the river now,

ain't that what teacher's always sayin'?

One, two-oh, three!"

"Don't go muddyin' up the river now,

ain't that what teacher's always sayin'?"

The man, startled, looked this way, but seemed not to understand at all what they'd said.

So everyone said it again.

"Don't go muddyin' up the river now,

ain't that what teacher's always sayin'?"

The pointy-nosed man puffed away, his mouth working just as it did when he smoked his pipe, and said,

"Is this the water you all drink round here?"

"Don't go muddyin' up the river now,

ain't that what teacher's always sayin'?"

The pointy-nosed man, looking a little troubled, said again,

"Is it wrong to walk in the river?"

"Don't go muddyin' up the river now,

ain't that what teacher's always sayin'?"

That man, as if to cover his own fluster, deliberately crossed the river slowly, and then, striking a pose as if exploring the Alps, climbed diagonally up the cliff of blue clay and red gravel, and disappeared into the tobacco field up above.

At that Saburo,

"What, he wasn't even here for me."

he said, and was the very first to plunge with a splash into the pool.

Everyone else, feeling somehow a strange, hollow mixture of pity for that man and for Saburo both, jumped down from the tree one by one, swam ashore to the riverbed, wrapped their fish in hand towels or carried them in their hands, and went home.

The next morning, before lessons, while everyone was hanging from the horizontal bar or playing hide-the-stick on the playground, Sataro came a little late, carrying a basket with something in it, held carefully to one side.

"What is it, what is it, what?"

everyone ran over at once and peered in.

At that Sataro hid it with his sleeve and hurried off to the rock cave behind the school.

And everyone chased right after him.

When Ichiro peeked in, his face changed color at once.

It was sansho pepper powder, used for poisoning fish, and using it could get you caught by the police just the same as setting off a blast.

But Sataro hid it in the pampas grass beside the rock cave, and went back to the playground looking innocent.

So everyone talked about nothing else, whispering among themselves, all the way until class began.

That day too, from around ten o'clock it grew hot again, just like the day before.

Everyone could hardly wait for classes to end.

When two o'clock came and the fifth hour was over, everyone bolted out at once.

Sataro too hid his basket carefully with his sleeve again, and, surrounded by Kosuke and everyone else, went down to the riverbed.

Saburo went along with Kasuke.

Everyone hurried through the stifling riverbed with its silk trees, smelling like the gas at a town festival, and reached the usual honey locust pool.

Splendid summer-like cloud peaks were piling up thick in the east, and the honey locust tree shone blue-green in the light.

Everyone hurried out of their clothes and stood on the bank of the pool, and Sataro, looking at Ichiro's face, said,

"Line up proper, all in a row. Right? When the fish come floatin' up, swim out and catch 'em. I'll give ya as many as ya catch. Got it?"

The little children were delighted, and, faces flushed, pushed and jostled each other as they crowded around the pool.

Pekichi and three or four others had already gone swimming and were waiting down by the honey locust tree.

Sataro, full of swagger, went to the shallows upstream and rinsed his basket splish-splash in the water.

Everyone stood in silence, staring at the water.

Saburo, without watching the water, was looking up at a black bird passing over the cloud peaks in the distance.

Ichiro too sat on the riverbed, tapping stones together, clack, clack.

But even after quite some time had passed, no fish came floating up.

Sataro stood there, very serious-faced, upright, watching the water.

Everyone thought that if this had been yesterday's blast, they'd have caught ten fish by now already.

And everyone waited in silence again for quite a while longer.

But still not a single fish came floating up.

"Fish just ain't comin' up at all."

Kosuke shouted.

Sataro flinched, but kept staring hard at the water all the same.

"Fish just ain't comin' up at all."

Pekichi said again, from under the tree over there.

At that everyone started chattering all at once, and dove into the water.

Sataro crouched a while, looking embarrassed, watching the water, but at last stood up and,

"Wanna play tag?"

he said.

"Let's, let's!"

everyone shouted, and put out their hands from the water to play rock-paper-scissors.

Those who had been swimming hurried to where they could stand and put out their hands too.

Ichiro came over from the riverbed and put out his hand too.

And Ichiro decided at once that their home base would be the slick blue clay at the foot of the cliff, right where that strange pointy-nosed man had climbed up the day before.

As long as you clung on there, they said, the one who was It couldn't catch you.

Then they played rock-paper-scissors, with scissors not counting, and the single loser becoming It.

But Etsuji alone had thrown scissors, so besides everyone jeering at him, he became It.

Etsuji, his lips gone purple, ran along the riverbed and caught Kisaku, so now there were two who were It.

After that everyone played tag over and over, going back and forth across the sandbar and the pool, catching and being caught, again and again.

In the end it was Saburo alone who became It.

Before long Saburo caught Kichiro.

Everyone was watching from under the honey locust tree.

Then Saburo said,

"Kichiro, you chase from upstream, all right?"

he said, and stood there himself, silently watching.

Kichiro, mouth open and arms spread wide, came chasing along over the clay from upstream.

Everyone got ready to dive into the pool.

Ichiro climbed up into a willow tree.

Just then Kichiro, the clay from upstream still stuck to his feet, slipped and fell right in front of everyone.

Everyone shouted, whooping and hollering, leaping over Kichiro or plunging into the water, and scrambled up onto the blue clay base upstream.

"Matasaburo, come and get us!"

Kasuke stood up, mouth wide open, arms spread, mocking Saburo.

At that Saburo, who had apparently been quite angry for a while already,

"Right then, just watch."

he said, getting serious, and plunged with a splash into the water, and swam with all his might toward them.

Saburo's red hair was slick and dripping, and he'd been in the water so long that his lips had gone a little purple too, so the children grew thoroughly frightened.

For one thing, that patch of clay was so narrow that not everyone could fit onto it, and besides it was such a slick, slippery slope that the four or five children lowest down had to cling to the ones above them just to keep from sliding down into the river.

Only Ichiro, at the very top, stayed calm, and began saying something like, "Right, everyone," as if starting a council of war.

Everyone else gathered their heads together to listen too.

Saburo, splashing along, had already gotten close.

Everyone was whispering among themselves.

Then Saburo suddenly began splashing water at everyone with both hands.

As everyone flailed to fend it off, the clay gradually began slipping, and it seemed as if the whole group had shifted a little further down.

Saburo, delighted, splashed water all the harder.

At that everyone slid down and fell in all at once, splash, splash.

Saburo caught them one after another.

Ichiro was caught too.

Kasuke alone swam around above and tried to escape, but Saburo caught up with him at once and not only held him but grabbed his arm and spun him round and round four or five times.

Kasuke, having apparently swallowed some water, spat out mist and choked and gurgled, and said,

"I quit. I ain't playin' this tag no more."

he said.

All the little children had climbed up onto the gravel by now.

Saburo alone stood beneath the honey locust tree.

But by then the sky was already thick with black clouds, and even the willow trees had turned a strange whitish color, and the grass on the hills had darkened deep and heavy, and the whole scene round about had changed into something indescribably fearsome.

Before long, all at once, up around the high meadow, thunder began rumbling, rolling, rolling.

And then, with a sound like a mountain tidal wave, a sudden downpour came all at once.

Even the wind began to blow, whistling and roaring.

The water of the pool broke out all over into great fat drops, so many that you couldn't tell water from stone anymore.

Everyone snatched up their clothes from the riverbed and fled under the silk trees.

At that Saburo too seemed, for the first time, to have grown afraid, and plunged with a splash into the water from beneath the honey locust tree and started swimming toward everyone else.

Then someone — no one could say who —

"Rain comes spatter-spatterin', Rain-saburo,

wind comes blusterin'-blusterin', Mata-saburo."

shouted, someone did.

Everyone else at once joined their voices together and shouted too.

"Rain comes spatter-spatterin', Rain-saburo,

wind comes blusterin'-blusterin', Mata-saburo."

Saburo, in a great fluster, as if something had grabbed hold of his foot, leapt up out of the pool and came running straight for everyone, and, shivering and shaking, said,

"Was that you lot just now, shoutin' that?"

he asked.

"No it weren't, no it weren't."

everyone shouted together.

Pekichi came forward once more, alone, and,

"It weren't."

he said.

Saburo looked uneasily toward the river, but bit down hard, as always, on his pale, drained lips, and "So what."

he said, though his body was still shaking, trembling all over.

And everyone, waiting for a break in the rain, went home, each to his own house.

Doh-do-do, do-do-oh, do-do-oh, do-do

Blow away the green walnuts too

Blow away the sour quinces too

Doh-do-do, do-do-oh, do-do-oh, do-do

Doh-do-do, do-do-oh, do-do-oh, do-do

That song Ichiro had only just heard from Saburo the other day, he heard once more, in a dream.

Startled, he jerked awake, and outside the wind was truly blowing hard, the woods roaring like some great beast, and the blue-black half-light of near dawn filled the paper screens, the lantern box up on the shelf, the whole house entire.

Ichiro quickly tied his sash, put on his geta, went down to the earthen floor, passed in front of the stable, and opened the side door, and the wind came bursting in all at once, together with cold drops of rain.

Somewhere behind the stable a door fell shut with a bang, and the horse gave a startled snort through its nose.

Ichiro felt as though the wind had soaked right down to the bottom of his chest, and let out a strong breath, haah.

And ran outside.

Outside it was already fairly bright, and the ground was wet.

The row of chestnut trees in front of the house looked strangely pale blue-white, and were being tossed about violently, as though the wind and rain were washing them clean right then and there.

Many green leaves were blown away, and torn-off green chestnut burrs lay scattered thickly across the black earth.

In the sky, the clouds gleamed a fierce gray, and went streaming on and on, blown steadily north.

The distant woods sounded just like a raging sea, thundering and crashing, or rushing with a great roar.

Ichiro, cold raindrops flung full into his face, his clothes nearly torn from him by the wind, listened intently to that sound in silence, and gazed steadily up at the sky.

Then he felt as though his chest were rippling into waves.

But as he went on watching that roaring, howling, snarling, racing wind, this time his heart began to pound, thump, thump.

When he thought of how the wind, which until yesterday had lain perfectly clear and still at the bottom of the sky over the hills and the meadow, had all at once, this very dawn, begun stirring together all as one, streaming on and on toward the northern edge of the Tuscarora Trench, Ichiro's face grew flushed, his breath came fast, and he felt as though he himself were soaring off through the sky along with it, and he hurried back inside the house, filled his chest with air, and let out a breath, whoosh.

"Ah, what a terrible wind. Today the tobacco and the chestnuts'll all be done for."

Ichiro's grandfather said, standing by the side door, gazing steadily up at the sky.

Ichiro hurried and drew a bucketful of water from the well and wiped down the kitchen briskly.

Then he took out the metal washbasin and scrubbed his face vigorously, and from the cupboard took out cold rice and miso, and ate it down in great mouthfuls, half in a daze.

"Ichiro, the soup'll be ready soon, wait just a bit, won't ya. Why're ya rushin' off to school so early this mornin', anyway?"

his mother asked, feeding wood into the stove where she was boiling something for the horse (a word is illegible in the original here).

"Mm. Matasaburo might've gone and flown off, that's why."

"What's this Matasaburo, then? Some kinda bird?"

"Mm. Matasaburo's what they call him."

Ichiro hurried and put away his rice, washed out his bowl with a clatter, and then put on the oilcloth cape hanging on the nail in the kitchen, and, carrying his geta, barefoot, went off to fetch Kasuke.

Kasuke had only just gotten up, and,

"I'm just eatin' breakfast first, then I'll come."

he said, so Ichiro waited a while in front of the stable.

Before long Kasuke came out, wearing a small straw raincoat.

The two of them, soaked clean through by the fierce wind and rain, at last made it to school.

Going in through the entrance, the classroom was still perfectly silent, but rain was coming in through gaps around several of the windows, and the floorboards were soaking wet.

Ichiro looked around the classroom for a while, and,

"Kasuke, let's the two of us mop up the water, eh."

he said, and brought a palm-leaf broom and swept the water away toward the hole beneath the window.

Then, as if wondering whether someone had come already, the teacher came out from the back — but the strange thing was that he was wearing an ordinary unlined kimono and carrying a red fan.

"You're very early. Are the two of you cleaning the classroom all by yourselves?"

the teacher asked.

"Good morning, sir."

Ichiro said.

"Good morning, sir."

Kasuke said too, but at once,

"Teacher, is Matasaburo comin' today?"

he asked.

The teacher thought for a moment, and,

"Matasaburo — do you mean Takada? Ah, Takada already left for somewhere else yesterday, together with his father. It being a Sunday, there wasn't time for him to say goodbye to everyone properly."

"Teacher, did he go flyin' off?"

Kasuke asked.

"No, his father was called back by a telegram from his company. His father is said to be coming back this way again briefly, but Takada himself, it seems, will be entering a school over there instead. His mother is there too, after all."

"Why'd the company go and call him back, then?"

Ichiro asked.

"It seems they've decided not to touch the molybdenum vein here for the time being."

"That's just how it is, ain't it. He really was Matasaburo of the Wind, after all."

Kasuke shouted out loud.

Over toward the night-duty room came the sound of something rattling and clattering.

The teacher, red fan in hand, hurried off that way.

The two of them stood there a while in silence, looking at each other's faces, as if trying to find out what the other truly thought.

The wind had still not died down, and the window glass, misted with raindrops, rattled once more.