VI.
The following day the weather continued to be all that could be desired. The wide courtyard was duly prepared. The centre was enclosed for the list in the shape of an oblong square, and temporary stands had been erected all round it to accommodate the spectators; these were covered with gay carpets and soft cushions which gave colour to the scene. A dais in the very centre of the gallery on the eastern side of the lists and at a convenient distance from the target, was richly decorated with hangings of purple and white silk, which fluttered gently in the breeze. This was the place of honour for Lord Saitō and his family.
From early in the morning, samurai after samurai began to arrive at the castle, and soon every stand was crowded. The lord of the castle accompanied by his family and attended by a numerous retinue of councillors, pages, and maids-of-honour, presently appeared, and in great state seated himself in the place prepared for him. Katsuno, gaily dressed, her face powdered and painted in the usual fashion, and the Masamuné dagger concealed in the bosom of her garments, was among this company, and avoiding the attention of the others, eagerly awaited her opportunity.
“To-day, or never,” she thought to herself. “If I let such a golden opportunity pass, I shall never get another! Dearest Hachiya, look at me from Hades! I will avenge your death before the sun sets!” Then clasping her hands she murmured a prayer, “Oh, Hachiman, God of War, favour me with success!”
When those about to take part in the competitions were ready, the umpire, the herald, the signalman and the registrar, all betook themselves to their respective stations; a large drum being then loudly beaten to announce that the tournament was about to begin.
One after another, the archers clad in kosodé (silk underclothes), hitataré (court robes), and mukabaki (breeches), came forth on horseback into the lists and rode to and fro, till coming to the appointed spot from which to aim, they shot their arrows at the mark. The judge, or umpire, would then after a careful examination give his decision, the herald would loudly proclaim the name of the archer and his achievement, while the registrar would make a written record. Then it was the part of the signalman to announce the event to the spectators, who raised such shouts of applause that one might almost fancy the petals of the cherry-blossoms fell in showers from the vibration in the air.
So archer after archer exhibited his skill, until now it was the turn of “No. 53” Sakuma Shichiroyemon. Katsuno, who had been impatiently awaiting her chance, and whose nerves were strained to the utmost, involuntarily grasped the dagger in her bosom.
Shichiroyemon rode out slowly, but as soon as he had bowed low to his lord, put spurs to his horse and dashed swiftly forward.
In her nervous excitement Katsuno pushed forward and straightening herself assumed the attitude necessary to cut at her enemy as he came up to the dais. In so doing she touched her mistress’s shoulder and shrank back inadvertently, but the next moment she again pressed forward and stood ready.