"Everywhere there has been no rain and the rice is drying in the fields," replied his father, "so drums are beaten and prayers are made to the gods that it may rain."
"Water is truly desirable," said Tara. "My unworthy throat is this moment as dry as the rice fields."
"Not far before us is a rocky pool shaded by ancient pines," said his father. "There pure august water will be given."
The rocky pool was a delightful resting-place. The stone basin was filled with water by a spring that leaped out of the heart of the cliff. The water overflowed the basin and formed a stream which ran along beside the road. Many travelers were sitting on low benches under the pines, the men smoking and the women and children chatting merrily.
Two women were washing clothes in the brook, and Tara and his sisters slipped off their sandals and white tabi, tucked up their kimonos and splashed about in the water.
The mother took the food from the lunch boxes, spread it on dainty paper napkins and called the children to come and eat.
"Truly thanks for this honorable food," said Umé, when she finished her luncheon. Then, as she looked up at the spring, she added, "The water which comes from the cliff sings a happy little song."
"It is like the spring of youth," said the grandmother.
"Deign honorably to tell the story of the spring of youth," said the father, taking a pipe from his sleeve pocket and filling its tiny bowl.
"Long ago a poor wood-cutter lived in a hut in the forest with his old wife," said the grandmother. "Every day the old man went out to cut wood and the woman stayed at home weaving.