Meanwhile Kichidayu, the sailor to whom he had given kind help, came to him after he had completely recovered. Bunkichi asked the master of the Daikokuya to employ him. He consented, and committed to him, in the capacity of captain, the management of a big ship.
Now Kichidayu’s devotion to Bunkichi was so great that he was ready to sacrifice his own life for his sake if occasion should arise. “I admire your determination immensely, and as I owe my life to you, you may count on me for any assistance in my power,” said the sailor to the boy one day.
Bunkichi rejoiced on hearing this and said, laughingly: “When the time comes in which I shall make my fortune, such property as the Daikokuya possesses I will create in ten days.”
Four years had passed, during which time Bunkichi had done well in his business, trading in various articles, and a portion of his profit he now and then distributed among the poor people in the district. He was now eighteen years of age. It was the autumn of the year, and from the beginning of the month of October a westerly wind had been blowing many days. As a consequence, the shipping trade at Kumano-Ura was entirely stopped. Yet a cargo of oranges bound from Kii Province for Yedo[[24]] was accumulating at Kumano-Ura and beginning to rot away on account of the warm climate of the province. From Yedo had been received vain messages, by the hikiaku, or running postmen, urging them to send up the oranges, the necessary fruit for the Fuigo Matsuri, or bellows festival, which was then at hand. Yet the sea became rougher every day as the wind grew stronger, while the frowning autumn sky hung overhead. The people could not possibly put out any ship nor do anything but stare and grumble at the rough sea and the lowering clouds.
[24]. The old name of the great Japanese city now called Tokio.
Every day Bunkichi went down to the seashore also, and looked at the dark sky as every one else did, yet he alone had a certain expression of suppressed joy in his face. The others said, “We hope this stormy weather will come to an end soon,” while he answered, “I hope it will do nothing of the kind.”
They were surprised at this and said, “Why, what’s the matter with you?”
“Who can tell?” he answered, laughing. While he was thus engaged in casual talk, Kichidayu, the sailor, came to look at the condition of the sea. On seeing him the lad beckoned him aside by a tree and said: “Kichidayu San, when do you suppose this wind will cease?”
“I wish it would stop soon,” he answered, “but it doesn’t look like it, I fear.”