The four Corners in Japan

by Amy Ella Blanchard

"Oh, yes," replied Nan indifferently. "Excuse me, but I must speak to my aunt," and she left him to wonder what had come over her since those first days of good comradeship. Perhaps she intended to let him know that she had left her heart at home and that he need not persist in his attentions. The more he thought of it the surer he was that this was the case, and from that moment he was quite as distant as herself. At parting, he merely bowed and wished her a pleasant trip. There was no word of regret at her leaving, no further reference to a future meeting, and so Nan went on to Enoshima with no such anticipation as had filled her on that perfect day at Kamakura.

The way to Kamakura was now enlivened by fields of iris and by the paddy fields of rice, the plants now grown higher. It was all new and enticing to Jack and Jean who were eager for the stop at Kamakura where they had all decided to spend the night. Nan had no desire to visit the temples again and Miss Helen decided to keep her company at the little hotel under the pine trees. The tide was out and these two concluded to spend their time in watching the nets hauled in. It was something to see, the brown fishermen, the little boats, the dragging nets and finally the little group of children and old people who came up with their bowls and baskets to receive what might be doled out to them from the lot of unmarketable fish left after the catch had been separated into heaps. On this occasion, there was fish enough to go around and the poor people went off happy in the expectation of a hearty supper. Gentleness and quietness prevailed, and the children were happy and joyous, not only the gleaners of fish but the gatherers of shells as well. Of these there was no lack, for the shells could be sold to the makers of beautiful things at Enoshima.

Nan and Miss Helen picked up such as they liked for themselves, delicate, frail, changeful things they were, full of color and light, even the tiniest.

Nan and her aunt loved the quiet hour and wandered around contentedly till the others returned. Then there was much talk and chatter till the moon came out on the sea, and there was only the sound of the wind in the pines and the moaning of the breakers on the sands, for the spirit of silence touched even talkative Jack.

Instead of one night, two were spent at Kamakura, so fascinating was the ancient town to all. Moreover the morning of that first day brought rain, so the trip to Enoshima was put off till it held up, which it did about noon. A wonderful spot they found the charmed island, for here it seemed as if all the shells from all shores had been poured. Little shops to the right and left were full of delicate shell work. Wonderful things of mother-of-pearl met them at every turn. The girls hung over them hardly able to drag themselves away from the array of jewelry, the cunningly wrought and tiny figures of beasts and birds, the card cases, picture frames, anything and everything that ingenuity could contrive from such lovely material.

"There is one thing about it," said Jack cheerfully, "we shall probably not need to spend any money at Myanoshita and so we needn't feel badly if it all goes here," a speech which showed up Jack's philosophy so well that the others all laughed.

The street came to an end at last and consequently so did the temptation to spend money. A tori-i indicated that the entrance to a shrine or temple was near, and the high, steep flight of steps further indicated this. The stone trough, too, was there, and in this the pilgrims washed their hands and then rinsed their mouths before going on to the shrine.

Near the trough were hanging votive offerings in the shape of blue and white towels. The girls stood gazing at them, wondering what they were, when a kindly looking elderly gentleman came up and told them that they were offered to the great sea-goddess, Benten. "The goddess of love and good luck has her shrine here. Have you seen her three temples and the Dragon Cave?"

The girls answered that they had not, but would like to. "Is it far?" asked Nan, "and is it a hard way, because if it is, we'd better leave our aunt and our mother behind."

"It is rather a climb," confessed the stranger, "and the way to the cave is somewhat difficult."