noto, an unexplored corner of japan-第19部分

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a　〃gake；〃　which；　if　not　strictly　accurate；　at　least　leans　to　the

right　side。　　If　the　cliff　overhang；　it　is　a　〃gake；〃　but　if　a　plumb

line　from　the　top　fall　anywhere　within　the　base；　it　is　no　longer　a

〃gake；〃　but　〃a　good　road。〃



On　the　other　side　the　slope　was　more　hospitable。　　Even　trees　wintered

just　below　the　crest；　their　great　gaunt　trunks　thrust　deep　into　the

snow。　　We　glissaded　down　the　first　few　hundred　feet；　till　we　brought

up　standing　at　the　head　of　an　incipient　gorge；　likewise　smothered　in

snow。　　Round　the　boles　of　the　trees　the　snow　had　begun　to　thaw；　which

gave　me　a　chance　to　measure　its　depth；　by　leaning　over　the　rim　of　the

cup　and　thrusting　my　pole　down　as　far　as　I　could　reach。　　The　point　of

it　must　have　been　over　seven　feet　from　the　surface；　and　it　touched　no

bottom。　　My　investigations　took　time　enough　to　put　a　bend　of　the

hollow　between　me　and　the　others；　and　when　at　last　I　looked　up　they

were　nowhere　to　be　seen。　　As　I　trudged　after　them　alone　I　felt　like

that　coming　historical　character；　the　last　man　on　our　then　frozen

earth。　



For　some　minutes　past　a　strange；　far…away　musical　note；　like　the

murmur　of　running　water；　had　struck　my　ear；　and　yet　all　about

everything　looked　dead。　　Of　animate　or　even　inanimate　pulsation　there

was　no　sign。　　One　unbroken　sheet　of　snow　stretched　as　far　as　I　could

see；　in　which　stood　the　great　trees　like　mummies。　　Still　the　sound

continued；　seeming　to　come　from　under　my　feet。　　I　stopped；　and；

kneeling　down；　put　my　ear　to　the　crust；　and　there；　as　distinct　as

possible；　I　heard　the　wimpling　of　a　baby　brook；　crooning　to　itself

under　its　thick　white　blanket。　　Here　then　was　the　cradle　of　one　of

those　streams　that　later　would　become　such　an　ugly　customer　to　meet。　

It　was　babily　innocent　now；　and　the　one　living　thing　beside　myself　on

this　May　day　in　the　great　snow…sheeted　solitude。　



Perhaps　it　was　the　brook　that　had　undermined　the　snow。　　At　all　events；

soon　after　I　overtook　the　others；　the　guide；　fearing　to　trust　to　it

farther；　suddenly　struck　up　again　to　the　left。　　We　all　followed；

remonstrating。　　We　had　no　sooner　got　up　than　we　went　down　again　the

other　side；　and　this　picket…fence　style　of　progress　continued　till　we

emerged　upon　the　top　of　a　certain　spur；　which　commanded　a　fine　view

of　gorges。　　Unfortunately　we　ourselves　were　on　top　of　some　of　them。　

The　guide　reconnoitered　both　sides　for　a　descent；　pushing　his　way

through　a　thick　growth　of　dwarf　bamboo；　and　brought　up　each　time　on

the　edge　of　an　impassable　fall　to　the　stream　below。　　At　last　he　took

to　the　arete。　　It　was　masked　by　trees　for　some　distance；　and　then

came　out　as　a　bare　knife　edge　of　rock　and　earth。　　Down　it　we

scrambled；　till　the　slope　to　the　side　became　passable。　　This　was　now

much　less　steep；　although　still　steep　enough　for　the　guide　to　make　me

halt　behind　a　tree；　for　fear　of　the　stones　dislodged　by　those　behind。　

These　came　down　past　us　like　cannon…balls；　ricochetting　by　big

bounds。　



At　the　bottom　we　reached　the　stream；　and　beside　it　we　halted　for

lunch。　　Just　below　our　resting　place　another　stream　joined　our　own；

both　coming　down　forbidding…looking　valleys；　shut　in　by　savage　peaks。　

On　the　delta；　between　the　waters；　we　made　out　a　band　of　hunters；

three　of　them；　tarrying　after　an　unsuccessful　chase。　　This　last　was　a

general　inference；　rather　than　an　observed　fact。　



The　spot　was　ideal　for　picturesque　purposes；the　water　clear　as

crystal；　and　the　sunshine　sparkling。　　But　otherwise　matters　went　ill

with　us。　　Our　extempore　guide　had　promised　us；　over　his　own　fire　the

evening　before；　a　single　day　of　it　to　Arimine。　　On　the　road　his

estimate　of　the　time　needed　had　increased　alarmingly。　　From　direct

questioning　it　now　appeared　that　he　intended　to　camp　out　on　the

mountain　opposite；　whose　snowy　slopes　were　painfully　prophetic　of

what　that　night　would　be。　　Besides；　this　meant　another　day　of　it　to

Arimine；　and　even　when　we　reached　Arimine；　we　were　nowhere；　and　I　was

scant　of　time。　　We　had　already　lost　three　days；　if　we　kept　on；　I

foresaw　the　loss　of　more。　　It　was　very　disheartening　to　turn　back；

but　it　had　to　be　done。　



Our　object　now　was　to　strike　the　Ashikura　trail　and　follow　it　down。　

The　guide；　however；　was　not　sure　of　the　path；　so　we　hailed　the

hunters。　　One　of　them　came　across　the　delta　to　the　edge　of　the　stream

within　shouting　distance；　and　from　him　we　obtained　knowledge　of　the

way。　



At　first　the　path　was　unadventurous　enough；　though　distressingly

rough。　　In　truth；　it　was　no　path　at　all；　it　was　an　abstract

direction。　　It　led　straight　on；　regardless　of　footing；　and　we

followed；　now　wading　through　swamps；　now　stumbling　over　roots；　now

ducking　from　whip…like　twigs　that　cut　us　across　the　face；　until　at

last　we　emerged　above　the　stream；　and　upon　a　scene　as　grandly

desolate　as　the　most　morbid　misanthrope　might　wish。　　A　mass　of

boulders　of　all　sizes；　from　a　barn　to　a　cobblestone；　completely

filled　a　chasm　at　the　base　of　a　semicircular　wall　of　castellated　clay

cliffs。　　Into　the　pit　we　descended。　　The　pinnacles　above　were

impressively　high；　and　between　them　were　couloirs　of　debris　that

looked　to　us　to　be　as　perpendicular　as　the　cliffs。　　Up　one　of　these

breakneck　slides　the　guide　pointed　for　our　path。　　Porters　and　all；

we　demurred。　　Path；　of　course；　there　was　none；　there　was　not　even　an

apology　for　a　suspicion　that　any　one　had　ever　been　up　or　down　the

place。　　We　felt　sure　there　must　be　some　other　way　out。　　The　more　we

searched；　however；　the　less　we　found。　　The　stream；　which　was　an

impassable　torrent；　barred　exit　below　on　our　side　by　running　straight

into　the　wall　of　rock。　　The　slide　was　an　ugly　climb　to　contemplate；

yet　we　looked　at　it　some　time　before　we　accepted　the　inevitable。　



When　in　desperation　we　finally　made　up　our　minds；　we　began　picking

our　dubious　way　up　among　a　mass　of　rocks　that　threatened　to　become　a

stone　avalanche　at　any　moment。　　None　of　us　liked　it；　but　none　of　us

knew　how　little　the　others　liked　it　till　that　evening。　　In　the

expansion　of　success　we　admitted　our　past　feelings。　　One　poor　porter

said　he　thought　his　last　hour　had　come；　and　most　of　us　believed　a

near　future　without　us　not　improbable。　　It　shows　how　danger　unlocks

the　heart　that　just　because；　halfway　up；　I　had　relieved　this　man　of

his　stick；　which　from　a　help　had　become　a　hindrance；　he　felt　toward

me　an　exaggerated　gratitude。　　It　was　nothing　for　me　to　do；　for　I　was

free；　while　he　had　his　load；　but　had　I　really　saved　his　life　he　could

not　have　been　more　beholden。　　Indeed；　it　was　a　time　to　intensify

emotion。　




As　we　scrambled　upward　on　all　fours；　the　ascent；　from　familiarity；

grew　less　formidable。　　At　least　the　stones　decreased　in　size；

although　their　tilt　remained　the　same；　but　the　angle　looked　less

steep　from　above　than　from　below。　



At　last；　one　after　the　other；　we　reached　a　place　to　the　side　of　the

neck　of　the　couloir；　and　scrambling　round　the　coping　of　turf　at　the

top　emerged；　to　our　surprise；　upon　a　path；　or　rather　upon　the　ghost

of　one。　　For　we　found　ourselves　upon　a　narrow　ridge　of　soil　between

two　chasms；　ending　in　a　pinnacle　of　clay；　and　along　this　ribbon　of

land　ran　a　path；　perfectly　preserved　for　perhaps　a　score　of　paces

out；　when　it　broke　off　bodily　in　mid…air。　　The　untoward　look　of　the

way　we　had　come　stood　explained。　　Here　clearly　had　been　a　cataclysm

within　itinerary　times。　　Some　gigantic　landslide　must　have　sliced　the

mountain　off　into　the　gorge　below；　and　instead　of　a　path　we　had　been

following　its　still　unlaid　phantom。　　The　new…born　character　of　the

chasm　explained　its　shocking　nakedness。　　But　it　was　an　uncomfortable

sight　to　see　a　path　in　all　its　entirety　vanish　suddenly　into　the

void。　



The　uncut　end　of　the　former　trail　led　back　to　a　little　tableland

supporting　a　patch　of　tilling　and　tenanted　by　an　uninhabited　hut。　

The　Willow　Moor　they　called　it；　though　it　seemed　hardly　big　enough　to

bear　a　name。　　On　reconnoitring　for　the　descent；　we　found　the　farther

side　fallen　away　like　the　first；　so　that　the　plateau　was　now　cut　off

from　all　decent　approach。　　One　of　us；　at　last；　struck　the　butt　end　of

a　path；　but　we　had　not　gone　far　down　it　before　it　broke　off；　and

delivered　us　to　the　gullies。　　This　side；　however；　was　much　better

than　the　other；　and　it　took　none　of　us　very　long　to　slip　down　the

slope；　repair　the　bridge；　and　join　the　Ashikura　trail。　



We　were　now　once　more　on　the　path　we　had　come　up；　with　the　certainty

of　bad　places　instead　of　their　uncertainty　ahead　of　us；　a　doubtful

betterment。　　The　Oni　ga　Jo　lay　in　wait　round　the　corner；　and　the　rest

of　the　familiar　devils　would　all　appear　in　due　course　of　time。　



Tied　over　my　boots　were　the　straw　sandals　of　the　country。　　They　were

not　made　to　be　worn　thus；　and　showed　great　uneasiness　in　their　new

position；　do　what　we　might　with　the　thongs。　　Everybody　tried　his　hand

at　it；　first　and　last；　but　the　fidgety　things　always　ended　by　coming

off　at　the　toe　or　the　heel；　or　sluing　round　to　the　side　till　they

were　worse　than　useless。　　They　were　supposed　to　prevent　one　from

slipping；　which　no　doubt　they　would　have　done　had　they　not　begun　by

slipping　off　themselves。　　They　wore　themselves　out　by　their　nervousness；

and　had　to　be　renewed　every　little　while　from　the　stock　the　porters

carried。　　In　honor　of　the　Oni　ga　Jo　I　had　a　fresh　pair　put　on　beside

the　brook　sacred　to　the　memory　of　my　pocket…handkerchief。　　We　then

rose　to　the　Devil　Place；　and　threaded　it　in　single　file。　　Whether　it

were　the　companionship；　or　familiarity；　or　simply　that　my　right　side

instead　of　my　left　next　the　cliff　gave　greater　seeming　security；　I

got　over　it　a　shade　more　comfortably　this　time；　though　it　was　still

far　from　my　ideal　of　an　afternoon's　walk。　　The　road　to　the　next　world

branched　off　too　disturbingly　to　the　left。　



At　last　the　path　descended　to　the　river　bottom　for　good。　　I　sat　down

on　a　stone；　pulled　out　my　tobacco　pouch；　and　lit　a　pipe。　　The　porters

passe