A dart whirred past me, to drive through the mid-body of the
executioner as he bent to thrust his lance. In the same instant Yuki
flung off his pilgrim robe and leaped at Keiki with outflashing sword,
his burnished armor glittering in the sun-glare.
Sudden as was the attack, Keiki flung himself away from the stroke
with such quickness that the blade barely cut through the mail on his
side. Wrenched about by the powerful bit, his stallion reared above
Yuki. Instantly the swordmaster struck a slashing upward blow that half
severed the beast’s neck at the base.
I saw the stallion rolling over upon his rider--a score of Mito
warriors were leaping to drive back Yuki--I saw Azai darting towards
me. All about me was a wild swirl of shrieking, fleeing commonfolk, of
Mito men yelling and slashing in blind fury, and crestless warriors,
still half disguised, who had already cut down their own number of Mito
men. I sprang to meet Azai. The _eta_ with the hook grappled my robe
and dragged me to the ground.
Azai sprang past me. I twisted about and saw her strike at the stooping
_eta_. The pariah fell inert, pierced through the nape of his neck. A
mob of yelling, slashing warriors surged about us. Azai flung herself
upon me to shield me with her tender body. A Mito man fell heavily
across us, the blood gushing from a great wound in his breast. I heard
the triumphant shout of Yuki. The wave of fighting men surged back.
My bonds parted under Azai’s dirk edge. She sprang up and tugged with
her girlish strength to help me to my feet. From the bosom of her
robe she plucked out my revolvers, first one and then the other. As I
caught them from her, I glanced around at the wild _mêlée_. A group of
Mito men were dragging their lord from under his horse. The mass were
closing in upon my rescuers, who had rallied with Yuki to drive them
back from me. All told, his followers numbered less than fifty. Though
picked men, they were falling fast before the overwhelming numbers of
the Mito men. The pikemen in the rear ranks thrust at them over the
shoulders of the Mito swordsmen.
“My lord! to the shore--the boat!” cried Azai.
“First free Kohana!” I commanded.
With unquestioning obedience, she ran with me to the cross and slashed
at the bonds of the _geisha_. A Mito man charged upon me from the
side. I shot him through the centre of his demonic face mask. Kohana
fell free from the cross. Our defenders were giving back.
“To the boat!--to the boat!” I shouted.
“To the boat!” yelled Keiki.
I thrust Azai and Kohana before me, to rush past the kettle gibbet. Our
defenders came backing after us, now rallying, now retreating. Keiki’s
voice called from the midst of the Mito men, and half a hundred came
charging around to flank and head us off. I began to fire. But the Mito
men were not to be stopped by my balls. They rushed in upon us. I drew
Azai back. Kohana was too quick for me. She sprang aside to the gibbet.
An oil dipper was lying upon the ground. She caught it up and dipped
into the boiling oil. With a skilful sweep she dashed the seething
fluid into the faces of the foremost warriors. Shrieking in agony, they
turned to fly. Again the girl dipped and flung, and again, in quick
succession. The Mito leaders plunged back amongst those behind, in wild
panic.
Another ladle lay beside the kettle. I caught it up and helped fling
out the oil at those who would have boiled me in it. The Mito men of
the flanking party turned and rushed back among those who were engaged
in furious struggle with our defenders, throwing them into momentary
confusion.
The moment was not lost by Yuki. At his shout, our men closed about us.
The ladles were taken from Kohana and me, and we were swept forward
with Azai. The Mito men, charging after us, were again thrown into
confusion by ladlefuls of seething oil. They spread out on either side
to close around us. But we had gained a slight start.
A few yards offshore I saw waiting the large scullboat. Naked rowers
stood ready at their long sweeps. The shoreward gunwale was lined with
women, dressed in black robes and stiff black hats and armed with
halberds.
The Mito men closed in again upon our rear and flanks, and sought
desperately to push forward and head us. Our men fought them off with
still greater desperation. The shore was not far. Five and twenty men
were left when we gained the beach and splashed down into the water.
Yuki, though severely wounded, yet fought best of all, spurring his
fellows to superhuman efforts with his cries.
Down the beach with us plunged the Mito men, goaded on by the furious
commands of their lord. I caught a glimpse of his bright-armored figure
upborne between two of his retainers. But my pistol ball glanced on
the shoulder-piece of a warrior who leaped before him down the bank.
Azai slipped upon the slimy clay bottom. I caught her up and plunged
forward, dragging Kohana by the arm.
On either side of us Mito warriors and our own men fell maimed into the
muddied water, to flounder and drown. A dozen of the enemy dashed ahead
to board the boat. The _samurai_ women, led by O Setsu San, screamed
defiance and struck at the mailed warriors with skilful blows of their
halberds. Only two of the enemy gained the side of the boat. Both were
overtaken and cut down by the foremost of our party.
Almost outspent, we floundered forward through the knee-deep water to
the boat. O Setsu San and her _samurai_ women beat off the Mito men
with their halberds while we clambered aboard. I swung Azai and then
Kohana over the gunwale, and vaulted in after them. A few of our men
were in before me. Such of the others as had not fallen came staggering
alongside, all wounded. The stronger ones paused to meet the furious
attempt of the Mito men to overwhelm them and capture the boat.
The women whirled their halberds, the naked oarsmen beat at the Mito
men with their sweeps. I fired every cartridge that remained in my
revolvers, and shouted for all to climb aboard. Those already in the
boat stood with brandished swords. Those in the water turned to clamber
over the gunwale. The Mito men rushed after. The women redoubled their
blows. Yuki still stood with his face to the enemy, and shouted to the
oarsmen to back offshore. The brave man meant to stand where he was
and guard our retreat until cut down. I reached over and dragged him
alongside.
The boat had begun to back water under the powerful strokes of the
scullers. Finding that I would not release him, Yuki turned and leaped
aboard. I caught up the sword of a man who lay dying, and thrust out at
the Mito men as they grasped at the boat’s bows. Yuki and such of his
men as could still fight beat at the enemy, slashing through the mailed
arms that sought to hold the boat. But the brave women did far more
with their halberds.
With a cry of triumph, we beat off the last Mito man and swept clear.
I glanced about and saw Azai fling down a halberd to kneel beside one
of the wounded men. O Setsu and Kohana and all the other women dropped
their halberds to follow the example of their mistress.
Yuki sheathed his hacked sword and sank down before me, the blood
oozing through his riven armor.
“My lord,” he murmured, “Owari could not strike, but _ronins_ could.
Your august father gave me the best swordsmen of the clan. It is for my
lord to win his way over the sea to Kagoshima. Satsuma-no-kami pledges
shelter to my lord and his wife, the Shogun’s daughter. Farewell, my
lord! I go now.”
He sank prostrate at my feet. At my cry, Azai darted to me, and after
her O Setsu. Other women aided them to strip off the broken armor. They
would save him if he might be saved.
I sprang up to order the boat brought about. The Mito men had
floundered after us till the water came to their armpits. They could
come no farther. No man could swim in armor such as weighted them down.
At my command the scullers brought the boat around, bows on, and headed
her for the nearest junk. She drove forward, out across the dancing
whitecaps, at racing speed.
Aboard the junk the crew was shortening cable, ready to weigh anchor
and set sail. One of the wounded men called to me and pointed to the
shore. Mito warriors, stripped of their armor, were running swiftly
towards Yedo. Others waved banners and garments, in frantic efforts to
signal the many passing junks and boats. A fishing smack sheered out of
its course to intercept us, but bore off again at sight of our bared
blades.
We raced on, the long sculls bowing under the powerful strokes of the
rowers. These men, too, were Owari retainers. They stood in their
places and thrust at the handles of their sweeps with their broad
chests, rejoiced to serve him who had been the chief of the clan.
The poop of the junk reared high before us. The hope in my heart rose
to a certainty. There was no gaping hole in the stern of the clumsy
craft. She was one of the junks that the Shogunate had sought to
convert into a warship. I remembered that my clan had offered to equip
and man part of the fleet.
We shot alongside. Lines were flung to us and made fast. The rowers
helped us lift the disabled warriors up over the low bulwarks
amidships, while the junk’s crew weighed anchor and hoisted their great
square sail. Two men had died of their wounds. But Yuki still breathed.
He was lifted aboard and carried into the cabin, followed by Azai and O
Setsu and Kohana.
As the ship came about, the crew shouted and pointed up the bay. A
squadron of war-junks and guard-boats were bearing down upon us. The
women were all aboard. I scrambled after with the rowers. Stones were
flung down into the boat to scuttle her, and she was cast adrift with
the two dead men.
With the monsoon blowing fresh on her port quarter, the junk was
already beginning to run down the bay at a rate that surprised me. The
bronzed skipper came pattering down from beside his huge tiller to
kowtow to his august lord. I ordered him to rise and come aft with me
up on the high poop.
The pursuing squadron had ceased to gain on us as at the first. Most
of the craft were falling astern, but one at least was still creeping
up on us. The skipper admitted that she was slightly the better sailer
on the wind, and that she carried a number of bronze pieces. His own
cannon had not yet been shipped.
A few inquiries brought me the information that he had aboard spare
sailcloth and spars. Within the minute I had his crew rigging jibs and
staysails. There was no time to cut and sew canvas. The sheets were
knotted and rigged in a manner to shame a marine. Yet even the first
jib that was set drew enough to offset the difference in the speed of
our foremost pursuer.
After jibs followed staysails, and last of all, studding-sails. The
junk heeled over under the freshening wind and drove down the bay at
a speed that astonished the incoming craft. Finding themselves fast
falling astern, our pursuers opened fire with their feeble carronades.
We cheered, and hauled to our peak the first national flag authorized
by the Shogunate,--a red ball on a white field.
The many craft which we met or passed mistook the firing of our
pursuers for salutes and cheered us as we drove by in our swift
flight. Within two hours we were flying past the outjutting point on
the east coast which had given Yoritomo and me so much concern that
wild night in June.
We stood boldly on down past the cape above Uraga. In the narrower
waters of the bay between us and Cape Sagami, government guard-boats
sculled to and fro in vigilant patrol. We drove on past Uraga without
putting in, as the regulations required. Guard-boat signalled to
guard-boat. They sculled swiftly athwart our course, signalling for us
to lay to. Some we slipped past; others backed water to escape being
run down, firing at us with their ineffective swivels. Two managed to
strike in alongside. But we cut loose their grappling-hooks before
their crews could board us.
By mid-afternoon we cleared the last of the guard-boats off Cape
Sagami. Before us opened the broad gulf of the outer bay, beyond which
rolled the illimitable expanse of the Pacific,--the broad lap of
Freedom! We had won our way out of the clutches of Mito.
I set our course between the smoking mass of Vries Island and the
distant coast of Idzu and ordered the studding-sails struck. We had now
only to coast down Hondo and Shikoku and Kyushu to Cape Satanomi before
the steady drive of the northeast monsoon,--a rough voyage against the
Japan Current in any craft, yet one fairly safe at this season even
for our unwieldy junk. The typhoon season was past.
I went down into the cabin, where mats had been laid and silk drapes
hung for the son of Owari. There, alone in the largest room, I found
the Shogun’s daughter, waiting to salute and serve her lord. She
kowtowed before me, her forehead upon her tiny hands. I bent and caught
her up in my arms, and pressed my lips upon her little mouth, after the
manner of the _tojins_.