After that there came to be a group in that boat that followed the
example of Mori and kept lice. In the matter of going about in pursuit
of lice whenever they had leisure, this group was not different from
the rest of the party. The only difference was that all they caught,
they put one by one faithfully into their bosoms and carefully kept.
But it is seldom in any country in any age that the precursor’s
teaching is accepted in its first form by all the people. In this boat,
too, there were many Pharisees who set themselves up against Mori’s
doctrines on lice.
At the forefront of these stood a captain of foot called Inoue Tenzo.
He, too, was an eccentric, and he always ate all the lice he caught.
When he had finished his evening meal, he would place a teacup before
him and sit slowly munching something that was evidently delicious, so
somebody looked into the cup and saw that it was full of the lice he
had caught and asked,
“What do they taste like?”
“Let’s see. Like oily parched rice, I guess,” said he.
Those who use their mouths to crush lice are to be found everywhere,
but this man was not of their number. As light refreshment pure and
simple, he ate them every day. He was the first to oppose Mori.
There was not another soul who took after Inoue and ate lice, but a
considerable number joined him in his opposition. According to them,
men’s bodies certainly could not be warmed by the presence of lice.
Moreover, in the Book of Filial Piety, it is written that we receive
our bodies, hair and hide, from our fathers and mothers, and the very
beginning of filial duty lies in not injuring them. Of one’s own choice
to feed these bodies to such things as lice was egregiously unfilial.
Whence lice should by all means be hunted out. They should not be
raised.
Under these circumstances, disputes arose from time to time between the
Mori and Inoue groups. And so long as they simply ended in argument,
there was no harm. But in the end things developed unexpectedly from
such beginnings even unto the starting of an appeal to the sword.
It came about in this way. One day Mori received from the others a lot
of lice which he put into a teacup and set aside, intending to raise
them carefully as usual, when Inoue, taking advantage of his incaution,
ate them up before he noticed. When Mori came to look for them, there
was not one left. Then this precursor flared into anger.
“What’d you eat ’em for?” he demanded, edging up to Inoue with his arms
akimbo and his eyes blazing.
“Fact is, it’s idiotic to keep lice,” said Inoue indifferently, showing
absolutely no desire to take him up.
“It’s idiotic to eat ’em.”
Mori flew into a fury and, pounding the plank deck shouted,
“Look here! Is there anybody in this ship who isn’t indebted to lice?
Takin’ these lice an’ eatin’ ’em is just like payin’ kindness with
hate!”
“I haven’t the least recollection of ever receivin’ any favor from
lice.”
“Nay, even if you haven’t, to wantonly take the lives of livin’ things
is unspeakable.”
After two or three more remarks had been exchanged with increasing
vehemence, Mori suddenly saw red and put his hand on the hilt of his
maroon-sheathed sword. Of course Inoue did not back down. He quickly
snatched up his long blade in its cinnabar scabbard and sprang to
his feet. Had not the naked men who were going about catching lice
excitedly forced the two apart, it would probably have meant the life
of one or the other of them.
According to the story of one who saw this flurry with his own eyes,
the two men, held fast in the arms of the whole party, still foamed at
the mouth and shouted, “Lice--Lice--”