The work of transfer was pushed forward. The more modest abode of a lord of moderate income, and the massive gateway with its supporting walls and fence of closely woven, sharp pointed, bamboo retiring into the distance now were ready to shut in Shūzen to the privacy of his share in the suzerain's defence. Plainly Shūzen Dono put more confidence in his own prowess, or insignificance, than in the strength of outer defences against sudden attack of those at feud with him. Part of his tract inclosed a shrine of the Inari goddess. This had still its worshippers. On his inspection Shūzen noted the loneliness of the building, its desolation. Yet it was clean swept and kept, and a money box for offerings was proof of attendance at the shrine. Whether this was of man or beast was not so easy to determine, for traces of the latter were plain to the eye. Their tracks swarmed about the building itself. As Shūzen stood in some uncertainty, a woman of the middle class appeared. To inquiries she admitted that the care of the shrine was due to herself and her piety; a care gladly rendered to its efficacy. It had returned to her a son once sent adrift to the provinces; and to her affection a husband who had gone astray much closer home, for the intruding female was a minor member of her own household. Finding excuse in some domestic misdeed, the worthy cit had sent forth the damsel into the wilderness of the world with the fruit of her experience. The relief of this incubus, and the return of a more rightful heir than promised, the good lady attributed to the virtue of her prayers to the Inari Sama. She was urgent to bring support to her views in the general opinion of all the neighbourhood, mainly of the Kōjimachi village. These corroborated what she said as to the shrine's efficacy and petitioned for its continued support. Made the tutelary shrine of the yashiki, separated therefrom by a mere brushwood fence, this Inari Jinja of the Banchō continued to exist for the good of the public and the annoyance of the amiable Okumura Shūzen. Its kannushi (Shinto priest) he could never find. The woman and others said that he lived at Ushinakizaka. At least the money contributions were always accounted for, although they had never seen his face. A few days before the formal opening of the yashiki the chūgen Isuké and the workmen stood with puzzled faces before a hole discovered underneath the flooring of the shrine. It led to some passage or cave. None were in humour to investigate, perhaps to the annoyance of the O'Inari Sama. At Isuké's direction, and with difficulty in the cramped space, it was found possible to shove into place the massive granite slab which fitted tightly into the aperture, and plainly belonged to it. "A one time store house of the god," quoth Isuké. With that he and the others betook themselves to their divers tasks of finishing the clearing up of building and surroundings. In the excitement and confusion of moving in there was little thought of the cavity in this twelfth month of Kwanei twentieth year (January 1644), and the idea of making report was lost sight of until other conditions brought up again the subject.
The ceremonial visits of the New Year, the congratulations and presents, were to be made to the suzerain by his attendant hatamoto and the daimyō then in Edo town. Every yashiki was in a turmoil of excitement and confusion. Even in the greater yashiki there was demand for outsiders to carry the hakomochi or long boxes, for the rokushaku (six footers) or tall fellows to carry the sedan chair, for others to bear the kappakago or rain-coat boxes. Samurai, ashigaru, spearholders, chūgen, zōri holders—these were attendant in the yashiki. But the minor establishments were mainly dependent on outside aid to swell the lord's train. Hence the rôle of Bandzuin Chōbei and his successors was no sinecure, in addition to the exercise of the art of arranging time and place so that the inferior lords would be least inconvenienced by the necessary and often humiliating deference to their superiors in rank. The guild patron looked well to the interests of his employers—daimyō—with small regard to those who shifted for themselves; which was one of the causes of grudge by the hatamoto against Chōbei, later removed from the scene by assassination.
Every horse in Edo, destined for the morrow's ceremony, underwent the pampered treatment that the groom Kakunai devoted to his master's nag. On the preceding day Kagé (Fawn colour) had been treated to all the luxuries of horse diet. He must eat for to-day and for to-morrow, and perform all the offices connected there with beforehand. Said Kakunai—"Kagé, be circumspect and constipated. To-morrow the master offers congratulations at the castle. Kagé is stuffed beyond measure to-day, that he be able to fast to-morrow. Show no discontent. For the passage of the sun there is to be no eating, and but a modicum of drinking. Halt not the procession for unseemly purposes." He stroked the horse, and the pleased animal purred and whinnied with the contentment of a cat at being petted. Then harshly said a voice in the ear of the bending Kakunai—"For this feed of the year's end thanks are rendered. Though not exactly of the kind desired, the intent has been good and the stomach filled. Hence congratulations in turn for the New Year season."
Kakunai jumped as if some one had thrust the unblunted end of a spear into his posteriors. He looked around, and over, and under the horse. "Who speaks? Where from? And what concerning?... Yai! Yai! It's Kagé!... Is no one hiding hereabouts, to make a fool of Kakunai?" With eyes bolting out he backed away in terror. The horse grinned broadly, showing its ugly yellow teeth in attempt at graciousness—"It is true. Kagé, addresses the honoured bettō Kakunai, gives congratulations to his friend." Kakunai did not wait to receive them. Now he bolted forth in person, to burst into the room of the chūgen Isuké, just then struggling to arrange garments and hair for attendance on his lord's progress. Head throbbing from not unliberal potations due to the seasons festivities this was no pleasant task. To Kakunai's report the answer was prompt and sour—"Kakunai is a liar or a fool; or if he would play a jest on Isuké, his own head shall ache as badly." Kakunai accepted the challenge and asseverated the truth of his report. Not at all convinced, and with a gloomy satisfaction of the idea of having it out with Kakunai on failure of the proof, Isuké accompanied the groom to the stable. Kakunai gingerly made up to the horse—"Kakunai has been friend to Kagé. Hence he is called liar or fool or mountebank. Deign to prove his truth, Kagé Dono." Respectfully he bowed to the horse. The latter at once turning to the chūgen, brayed into his face—"'Tis fact. Kagé is at least as human as these his brothers. He speaks to whom he wills. Not so with Isuké and Kakunai. A word to the Tono Sama, and Kagé will kill and eat these his friends. Keep his good will by friendship." Gently the horse raised a front hoof. The voice was harsh; and the push, though gentle—for a horse—sent Isuké flat, with reminder of Kagé thus closely applied. Without a word the chūgen wallowed from the floor, none too clean, and took to flight. Kakunai followed after, holding his nose. In the privacy of the chūgen's room Isuké changed to sweeter garb and discussed the matter with Kakunai. Should his lordship be informed? Kakunai, as immediate attendant and in greatest danger, earnestly protested. Isuké at any time might be brought into closest contact with Kagé in his office of chūgen attending his master. They agreed that it would be very disagreeable to be killed and eaten, especially with such evidences of Kagé's powers of disposition. Hence nothing was to be said; or rather each agreed to leave the matter of report to the other.
Great was the crush and excitement on this day of the year. Long and continuous were the processions (gyōretsu) of daimyō and hatamoto making their way to and from the castle. The rule of the day was to avoid unnecessary collision, as far as possible; not only in the matter of precedence, but of order. Commoners, male and female, old and young, rōnin, samurai, according to their caste squatted or prostrated themselves in reverential attitude as the palanquin of some lord passed by. Caustic or benign, generally malicious, the comment of the Kidahachi and Yajirōbei—"Ōkubo Hikoroku Dono; 'tis true he possesses influence, and the roughness of Hikoza Sama, but the keen wit of the honoured father lacks."—"Yet the lord Ōkubo has much kindness beneath his roughness. The latter is passport to the favour of the suzerain." Iyeyasu Kō ruled by statecraft; Hidétada Kō by benevolence; the third Shōgun Iyemitsu Kō, by rough energy. Such the tradition of the personality of these three men handed down in Nippon's history. With the passage of Tadamune Kō, of the great Sendai fief, heads went very low. Great his wealth, and greater still was his influence with the Suzerain. Tadamune swept proudly on; the future disasters represented in the boy who rode close to the palanquin, and whose licentious life later threatened to wreck the wealth and position of the great house.
At the dismount notice (geba-fuda) Okumura Shūzen, accompanied by two pages, donned zōri (sandals) and betook himself to the palace. He was a small figure in this crush of great nobles, but as hatamoto had his right and duty of being present at the palace; both rigidly enforced, and assuredly with greater regard and welcome than most of the men of much greater rank, always regarded with suspicion. The modest train of a four hundred koku lord was squeezed into a corner of this mass of underlings waiting the return of their masters from audience. Close companion to his beloved and now feared Kagé, the groom Kakunai was well satisfied with his insignificance. Great was his consternation to hear the harsh voice of his equine friend in his ear. A whisper to Kagé meant a roar to the crowd—"Naruhodo! The stench of these humans excels even that of the stable. One is as much confined here as there. His lordship has now departed. Deign, Kakunai San, to indulge in amusement. Let's be off—to the Kwannon of Asakusa, to the Yoshiwara. Here there is naught but press and riot. In the pleasure quarter both convey diversion. Deign so to regard it." With wide open mouths those around turned to the quarter whence came these uncomplimentary terms. Kakunai was sweating with fear—"Shut up!... Rude? Then deign to be silent. Great the press. To withdraw is difficult; to desert his lordship impossible. Silence is the part of the inferior." At this exercise of authority the horse grumbled loudly—"Away from the stinking stable one feels gay and at ease. Quicksilver runs in the veins. At Yoshiwara the hatsudochū will be in progress. Following the processions of the honoured oiran, liberal will be the saké offered at the tea houses. Deign, Kakunai San, to reconsider your purpose to remain."
At this Kakunai almost melted into the icy puddle on the ground. He shivered as he wiped the cold sweat dripping from his forehead. At first voices said—"Who is speaking in these ribald terms? Kakunai San is it not? Who the companion?... Oya! 'Tis the horse which talks! Asakusa and Yoshiwara? What say the women to the presence of the beast? Eh! Off with you, Kakunai San, to show which is horse and which groom." They crowded around the pair, not daring to come close. Kakunai felt extremely unwell. He could not deny the fact. "Like boys, he boasts beyond his powers. The power of speech runs loose. Yet as a horse it is a wise beast, the treasure of a four hundred koku yashiki, since none other possesses his like. Deign to note his own proclamation of his tastes." This was to throw the consequences of discovery on the animal, to file the sharpness of teeth against the promised mauling of Kakunai's flesh. Then he waxed eloquent and proud—"A fine horse indeed! Such a horse in battle is unequalled. Is it not so, Kagé?" And Kagé promptly answered to his friend's praise. "A horse of noble quality, with good deeds to his credit, gains reputation. At the astonishment of the foe the rider runs them through with the spear. Hence gain of heads, and reputation to both steed and master." Kagé spun round, letting fly hoofs in all directions, shaking his head and biting savagely. At this display of battle fire those too close fled in disorder. At a safe distance wonder and advice was expressed. "Deign to be off, Kakunai San. Truly the animal is foxed, and foxes enough are to be found in Yoshiwara. He will find company without fail." Kakunai, as he restrained the beast, now full at ease—"Of that we are assured. Alas! He cannot squat. In that he is clumsy, as is the red haired, green-eyed western barbarian. Otherwise it is not Kakunai who would bring coin to Nakanochō, but convey money hence." Some agreed, and some disagreed, and all congratulated. Thus did horse and groom get much advertisement at the Ōte-mon, to the subsequent profit of both.
Shūzen, audience granted, appeared at the castle gate. Respectfully the crowd drew apart, and watched the lord depart with his train. Never had one of the minor hatamoto attracted greater attention; and of these many were notable men for personal exploits. Entirely unconscious of this notice Shūzen rode off to his yashiki. In the course of the succeeding days many visits were to be paid, and the wondrous fact had chance to spread from the under world to the surface. At the yashiki of Abé Shirōgorō the salutations were exchanged; the spiced saké to preserve life—the tōso—was brought forth. Shūzen detected in his host a quizzical, even amused attitude. Said Shirōgorō—"Shūzen Uji, did he deign to ride, or mount the kago (palanquin)." The question was abrupt, and seemed not over courteous. A hatamoto of four hundred koku possessed steed and spearmen. Abé Shirōgorō was a great lord, and Shūzen answered smoothly, seeking any source of offense. To his affirmative, said the host—"Then Shūzen Dono perhaps deigned to mount the favourite and talking horse.... Surely he knows of the animal's great gift.... Congratulations are due, for what is the talk of the castle precincts." Shūzen's astonishment was too great not to be genuine. He was the first to propose to Abé Dono the taking of a look at the noted beast. He was eager to inspect an animal, which, it seemed, he had as yet never seen. The two lords came forth to the genkwan (house entrance). On summons Kakunai brought forward the horse, expecting his lord to mount, not exactly understanding the presence of the lord of the mansion. Shūzen's first words enlightened him unpleasantly. With some severity—"Kakunai, does this horse talk?" Thunderstruck Kakunai did not know what answer to make. Kagé could bite. His master could do worse, if enough angered. He hesitated—"Hai!" Quoth Shūzen—"'Hai' is no answer. Has the horse power of human speech?" Kakunai put his hand to his head, then turned to Kagé, who was obstinately silent. He gave him as hard a blow on the neck as he dared, without result. "The Tono Sama has heard the tale; as has this Kakunai. His head in a whirl, Kakunai knows not whether it be true or not. By an humble groom such matters are not understood. To report idle gossip or the illusions of one's brain, savours of impudence. Deign the question in person. Kagé refuses answer to this Kakunai."
Thus skilfully he lied. Kagé eyed him with approval; Shūzen with some doubt. He turned to the horse—"Kagé, it is said you speak. Shūzen is the master. Answer without lying." Kagé spoke, indifferent to rank and without circumlocution of polite society—"'Tis so; and just as does a human being. Truly Shūzen Sama has supplied a most foul smelling place to learn the art." Abé Shirōgorō snickered—"Kagé Dono is too precise. Would he learn the art of converse over his master's wine?"—"Not unwillingly," replied the nag. "But in any case he would have Isuké and this lazy groom make better and more frequent use of broom and bucket. The good offices of Abé Dono are requested." By this retort courteous the two noblemen were silenced and amused. Uncertain as to the course of further converse with the beast Okumura made salutation, mounted and departed homewards. As he gave the horse into the groom's charge he said—"It is for Kakunai to keep in mind the words of Kagé." As he vigorously applied broom and water to the stall and vicinity of the favoured animal, Kakunai mentally determined that on the whole Shūzen Dono was the more dangerous of the two. Hence-forward he would be careful to remember all that Kagé said—and make report.