Pathway to Japanese Literature

Part I

Mr. M narrates.

My friend Mr. Kambara was from Tsuyama in Sakushu Province.
It was said that his ancestors had been retainers of Kobayakawa Takakage, who went on expedition to Korea alongside their lord and defeated the great army of Ming's Li Rusong at the Battle of Byeokjegwan—a family lineage distinguished by military exploits.
Kobayakawa Takakage had lived in Najima, Chikuzen, where he was revered as Lord Najima, but upon his passing in the second year of Keicho [1597], when his adopted son Hideaki assumed leadership, the Battle of Sekigahara soon commenced in the fifth year of Keicho [1600]. Though Hideaki became infamous as a traitor, the Tokugawa clan did not treat him negligently due to his service; he was relocated from Chikuzen to Chugoku and became lord of Bizen and Mimasaka with a domain yielding 500,000 koku.
Kambara Mozaemon Motoharu, an ancestor of Mr. Kambara, also relocated to Chugoku following his lord Hideaki; however, when that lord eventually went mad and died prematurely—resulting in the house's destruction—Motoharu disdained serving a second master and withdrew to rural Tsuyama, after which his descendants continued farming until this very day.

The Kambara family has traditionally referred to each successive head of the household as "Mozaemon," but since the time of that very Mozaemon Motoharu, there has been an object carefully preserved as a sort of family heirloom.
It consists of animal hair nearly one shaku (approximately 30 cm) in length, primarily a bluish-black hue though appearing mottled with gray patches in places.
The hairs were quite thick, forming a bundle just about the size a human hand could grasp.
Wrapped in oiled paper and stored in a leather case, the case bears an inscription reading "Demon Horse's Hair."
As an accompanying legend, it is said that whenever auspicious or inauspicious events occur in the Kambara family, the neighing of a horse would be heard three times somewhere; however, when the present Mr. Kambara married and when Mr. Kambara's father died, not only were there no horses—they did not even hear dogs barking—so it seems safest to regard this legend merely as a kind of folktale.

However, this so-called "Demon Horse's Hair" has clearly retained its form and remains treasured as a family heirloom to this day.
As for its origins, there exists a record titled *The Demon Horse Chronicle*, said to be written by Kambara Mozaemon Motoharu himself. Thus even after the Meiji era—so it is told—people would specially journey from distant places to request viewing both this treasure and its accompanying chronicle.
I myself, some years past while returning from worship at Izumo Grand Shrine, visited Mr. Kambara's home in rural Tsuyama and received the privilege of examining these artifacts.

The following facts are recorded in that chronicle.

In March 1593, Kobayakawa Takakage was on expedition to Korea at that time, and samurai entrusted with guarding Najima Castle remained there.
As the entire Kyushu region had only recently been subjugated by Toyotomi Hideyoshi, no one could say when or where an uprising might erupt.
Moreover, since Ming's great army had reportedly come as reinforcements to the Korean battlefield, it became necessary to dispatch additional troops depending on their movements.
With all these concerns, those guarding the castle could not relax their vigilance, each passing tense days—among them, the young samurai carried themselves like tightly wound steeds.

"Why have I been assigned to this cowardly guard duty? If only an uprising would break out to give us something to quell..."

To the young samurai who spent their days waiting for either deployment orders from the battlefield or an uprising to break out nearby, such rumors reached their ears.

"They say a sea monster has been sighted in Tatara River."

Najima Castle was built in Tatara Village, and the Tatara River flows near its castle town before emptying into the sea.
In the still-cold nights of early spring that year, when a certain villager was passing by this riverside, a strange horse's neighing could be heard from nowhere in particular.
Because it was dark, they couldn't quite discern its source, but the voice seemed to reverberate from within the water.
As it emerged from the water and gradually approached the village, the horses kept in every household began to go wild all at once and neigh, as if answering its call.

That the horses of every household had gone wild and neighed was known throughout all homes. As they wondered why all the horses had neighed in unison, the next day brought rumors of an unusual horse from that individual’s lips, leaving them all increasingly mystified. Large four-legged tracks remained in the nearby farm paths.

When they kept careful watch, they found that—though not every night—roughly once every three to five days, the horses kept in every household would suddenly go wild and neigh in unison. The voice of the horse-like creature that seemed to emerge from the water was deeper and louder than that of ordinary horses. The cry resounded as though blending a bull's bellow with a horse's neigh, and when it let out two or three high-pitched whinnies, the many horses tethered in households—whether answering its call or fearing it—all began neighing at once in a frenzied uproar. As they gradually investigated, it became apparent that the domestic horses seemed to fear the voice of that mysterious horse. As evidence, on the day after that horse’s voice was heard, all horses everywhere became high-strung and startled easily at things. For these reasons, while the creature did not directly cause harm, merely startling the domestic horses of every household was problematic enough. Another factor was that curiosity had taken hold; in the village, the youths banded together to attempt to ascertain the true form of that mysterious horse.

Of course, whether it was truly a horse remained unclear; nevertheless, having tentatively decided it was one, they dubbed their pursuit a "horse hunt."
The horse-hunting groups split into several teams of two or three each and lay in ambush at key points along the river leading to the village, but on moonlit nights that neighing was never heard—occurring exclusively on dark nights—making it exceedingly difficult to ascertain its true form.
In particular, whether it emerged from the water or came from the mountains could not be determined with certainty, as its tracks were scattered in every direction.
However, since its cries often seemed to begin from the river's direction, they concluded it must be coming up from the sea along the river; yet that horse never cried consecutively.
Had it continued crying, one could have approached by following its voice; however, this neighing-roaring sound lasted only three or four cries from start to finish.
Therefore, even when they rushed toward the direction of the sound, there remained no trace of anything resembling it.

Since it was too dark to accomplish anything, they decided to go out with torches—but that night, not a single neighing sound was heard.
The mysterious horse seemed to fear the firelight and did not show itself.
Without fire, it was too dark to see.
If there was fire, the creature wouldn't come out.
Since this was truly a predicament, they consulted together and decided to create a type of pit trap.
In what seemed to be its pathway, they dug two deep holes and covered them with dead branches and straw—but this too ended in failure.

“If it comes from the sea, that’s one matter—but if from the mountains, tracks should surely lead here.”
“Search every inch of it thoroughly.”

Heeding the elders’ admonition, the young men came to their senses and redoubled their investigation of the tracks. Yet finding no such traces in the mountain direction, they settled on concluding the mysterious horse must indeed be ascending from the sea.

“A sea monster? Or a sea lion?”

The people of that era apparently gave no thought to whether the marine creature possessed four legs, thereby classifying it as a type of sea beast.

Before long, an incident occurred there.

It was a gloomy night in mid-February.
Normally this would be moonlit, but tonight only faint starlight flickered through the rain-threatening darkness.
The horse-hunting group had taken up positions thinking the creature might emerge on such a night when that neighing voice sounded again.
Next came the clattering alarm from one pit trap.
Believing they'd caught their quarry at last, they rushed to the spot and lit their torches—only to find a human lying at the pit's bottom.

II

The person was a young man named Tetsusaku from the neighboring village. Wondering why he had come there at that hour and fallen into the pit trap, they pulled him up in bewilderment. Tetsusaku lay half-alive, unable to speak properly for some time. As they tended to him and pressed for answers through their nursing, he claimed to have encountered that mysterious horse that very night.

In this village lived a woman named Ofuku, widow of a peasant called Jirobei. Thirty-seven or thirty-eight that year, she had long maintained relations with Tetsusaku—whom she treated like her own child—though bringing him into her home proved impossible due to her mother’s presence and neighborhood scrutiny, forcing them to designate a small forest some distance from her house as their meeting place. Yet recently, amid the Sea Monster commotion, Tetsusaku had ceased visiting altogether.

Pining for him, Ofuku slipped away to the neighboring village during daylight hours that day, extracting his firm promise to meet that night before returning home. Pressured by the older woman’s insistent urging, Tetsusaku reluctantly stole out after dark. Ofuku—who had been standing at her gate awaiting him since earlier—immediately seized the man’s hand and guided him along their usual dark forest path. Midway down the narrow trail, they suddenly collided with something.

This side was of course startled, but the other party also seemed to have been startled.
No sooner had it let out a loud snort than it immediately released a high-pitched neigh.
When Tetsusaku realized it was that mysterious horse, he was shocked to the point of nearly losing consciousness.
More than shock, it was terror that redoubled—he shook off the hand of the woman he had been holding and fled headlong back down the path they had come, but in the darkness and panic, he lost his bearings and tumbled into that very pit trap.

As this realization spread，the commotion intensified further．When they brandished their torches to scour the area，there indeed lay Ofuku，Jirobei’s widow，collapsed without recognizable form in the middle of the road．Ofuku did not survive despite their care．After she had fallen sideways，it appeared that flank had been forcefully trampled by that demon horse’s hoof．Seeing all her rib bones crushed，they could imagine how extraordinarily large that demon horse must have been—and exchanged glances．

“Jirobei’s widow was trampled to death by the Sea Monster.”

As the rumor spread once more, people's curiosity gradually transformed into fear.
Whether it was a Sea Monster or something else remained unknown, but seized by terror at being no match for such a colossal creature should they encounter it, those joining the horse hunts began to dwindle from that time onward.
On dark nights, every household closed their doors early.
The mysterious horse continued to let out its eerie neigh every third or fifth day, menacing the domestic horses of every household.

“It’s truly a strange affair—but fascinating,” said the young samurai in the castle who had heard the rumors.

Due to the aforementioned circumstances, they had been lying in wait, hoping for something to occur. When such rumors reached their ears at that critical moment, they could not delay action. Kasuya Jinpachi and Furukawa Ichigoro immediately went to Tatara Village to investigate the rumors’ veracity and confirmed there was no mistake in the accounts.

“It’s already March! If there have been such strange occurrences since New Year’s, why didn’t they report them to us sooner?”

The two then went to the neighboring village and interrogated Tetsusaku. He had been bedridden for over half a month afterward but had recently regained his health; he answered all of Jinpachi’s questions truthfully. However, he could not explain what kind of creature the monster he had encountered was. Given how dark the night was and how sudden the incident occurred, he had been half in a daze and remembered nothing—but it was something far larger than an ordinary cow or horse, and in the instant they collided, he had sensed what seemed to be long fur like a bear’s covering its entire body.

Though nothing more could be determined, it was nevertheless confirmed as fact that a monstrous creature had appeared—terrifying the domestic horses of every household and trampling Jirobei’s widow to death—so Jinpachi and Ichigoro withdrew in satisfaction.
On the way back to the castle, Jinpachi spoke up.
“But you—will you go spreading this to everyone right away?”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing, but if we carelessly spread this around and have a crowd come clamoring after us, that would be trouble.”
“Why don’t you and I go quietly by ourselves?”

In any situation, humans possess a desire for glory.
Jinpachi and Ichigoro, harboring an ulterior motive to monopolize the glory of exploring the Sea Monster, ultimately decided after discussion to outstrip their comrades and secretly venture out tonight.

Mid-March had passed, and the spring there was warm.
The sky had been slightly overcast since the afternoon, and late-blooming cherry blossoms scattered listlessly in the windless evening.

“It’ll definitely show up tonight.”

The two men, impatiently waiting for nightfall, slipped out of the castle together. Ichigoro suggested bringing firearms, but Jinpachi opposed this, arguing that carrying projectile weapons would complicate passing through the gate inspection. They decided to simply dress lightly and began sneaking into the castle town’s village a little past the Hour of the Dog. It was an oppressively dark night, with a warm, damp southern wind—seemingly bearing imminent rain—brushing against their cheeks. Being familiar with the castle town’s layout from daily life, and having established a general reconnaissance during daylight hours, they reached their destination without losing their way even on the pitch-black night path.

Though they had no definite target location, relying on rumors that the mysterious horse likely emerged from water, the two men took position near Tatara River and concealed themselves using a large haze tree as a small shield. When about a quarter of an hour seemed to have passed, the sound of large footsteps was heard from somewhere.

“It’s here.”

As the two men held their breath and watched, a large black shadow appeared about eighteen meters from their hiding place, dimly visible by the water’s reflected light.
The black shadow moved sluggishly, seeming to enter the water.
Following this, splashing sounds were heard several times, prompting Jinpachi to whisper to Ichigoro.

“It’s not coming out of the water.”
“It’s going into the water.”

“Looks like it’s catching fish.”

“Since when do horses eat fish?”

“That’s odd.”

Keeping vigilant watch, they saw the black shadow emerge from the water and release a shrill neigh toward the darkened sky.
Taking this as their cue, the two men strode forward and swung their concealed torches from beneath their sleeves. Yet against their meager flames, their adversary loomed too vast—nothing but an impenetrable black mass stood before their eyes, its true form remaining indiscernible.
Simultaneously, as if repelled by torchlight dimmer than fireflies, the shadow twisted to retreat. When they gave chase, their focus fixed ahead made their torch-handling grow careless.
The river wind gusted fiercely and snuffed both flames.
Before thought could form—whether struck or kicked—Ichigoro fell soundlessly where he stood.

Jinpachi hurriedly drew his sword and, without intent to strike the opponent or defend himself, swung it half in a frenzy—whereupon the black shadow left him as it was and quietly retreated into the depths of the darkness.
As Jinpachi tried to pursue further, his foot caught on the fallen Ichigoro, and he too fell into the darkness.
He called out in a low voice while trying to get up.

"Ichigoro, what happened?"

Ichigoro did not answer and merely moaned.
It was too dark to see clearly, but he appeared to have suffered a severe blow from the monster.
Realizing he needed to tend to him first, Jinpachi ran through the darkness toward the village, shouting as he went.

“Hey! Hey!”
“Is anyone there?”

The groups of horse hunters had significantly dwindled around this time, though two parties still stubbornly persisted in their expeditions.
Startled by Jinpachi's shouts, six or seven men came running.
When they realized their opponent was a samurai from the castle grounds, their astonishment grew greater still.
Lighting their prepared torches and rushing to where Ichigoro lay, they found him bleeding profusely from his nose and mouth, about five of his upper and lower front teeth shattered.
Ichigoro appeared to have been struck violently in the face by the monster.
They hastily carried him to a nearby farmhouse and administered emergency treatment with water and medicine. Though Ichigoro gradually regained consciousness, it seemed he had struck his head hard during the fall, leaving him unable to rise easily.

This left Jinpachi terribly troubled.
When returning to the castle to report truthfully, not only would it make their martial prowess appear lacking, but having ventured out without permission on a Sea Monster expedition and committed this blunder, there was no telling how harshly the group leader might reprimand them.
Yet there being nothing to do about it now, he entrusted Ichigoro's care to the others and resolved to return alone to the castle temporarily.
When he returned, matters indeed reached a disastrous conclusion.

“You who were entrusted with guarding the castle—committing such needless mischief and turning a comrade into an injured man—what is this?”
“Are you unaware that even one samurai matters gravely in our present circumstances?” he was sternly rebuked by the group leader.
“This ill fortune stems from your scheming to surpass us and claim glory for yourselves alone,” his other comrades jeered at him.
Though he had steeled himself for it, being chastised and mocked made Jinpachi appear somewhat unhinged.
He nearly attempted seppuku before his comrades restrained him.
Hearing of this, the group leader issued another reprimand.

“Even with Ichigoro already injured, what do you think would happen if Jinpachi were to commit seppuku as well? Guide the others there and quickly bring Ichigoro back.”

Though their comrades had initially laughed, they couldn’t simply keep laughing, so following the group leader’s instructions, the ten men promptly prepared and departed the castle. Naturally, Jinpachi was assigned to guide them.

Mozaemon Motoharu, an ancestor of Mr. Kambara, was a nineteen-year-old young samurai at that time and belonged to this group.

Along their journey, the senior Itami Yajibei raised a point.

"The group leader had only instructed us to retrieve Furukawa Ichigoro, but we too have heard tales of this Sea Monster."
"If left unattended, this matter will tarnish our clan's honor."
"Particularly with Jinpachi and Ichigoro's grievous failure—should we let this stand unaddressed, not only foreign domains but even our own lord's peasants would mock us without question."
"First let us assess Ichigoro's condition properly. Depending on what we find, perhaps we should organize that horse hunt ourselves."

Everyone wholeheartedly agreed.
As they approached the village, the horses kept by the households all began neighing wildly at once, revealing that the monster still roamed nearby, which further heightened the people’s tension.
The young Mozaemon's blood boiled.

III

The place where Furukawa Ichigoro was carried into was the house of Jirobei's widow Ofuku.
Ofuku’s household had consisted of three women: her mother Omoyo; an adopted daughter named Orachi—a sixteen-year-old girl; and herself. Yet among them, Ofuku—being in her prime—had been trampled to death by the Sea Monster, leaving only an elderly woman and a young girl behind.
Fortunately, since Omoyo was over sixty yet still robust, she had resolved to eventually find a suitable husband for Orachi and thus managed to sustain the household.
Given this circumstance, Omoyo—comparing her own misfortunes—appeared to feel even greater sympathy for the wounded young samurai, taking the lead among the villagers in kindly nursing him.

At that moment, people from the castle arrived.
Seeing that Ichigoro’s condition was by no means minor, four out of the eleven in the group were assigned to accompany him back to the castle.
Jinpachi was also included among those four.
This was Itami Yajibei’s proposal—that since Jinpachi would truly have to commit seppuku if he were to commit another blunder, it would be more prudent for him to escort the injured man back to the castle instead—but Jinpachi himself absolutely refused.
Insisting that a samurai’s honor meant he would rather risk his life than retreat, they ultimately decided to replace him with another man.

Under these circumstances, it was not only Jinpachi—many volunteers now preferred remaining behind to join the Sea Monster expedition rather than escorting the injured back to the castle in vain. Though Yajibei had some difficulty managing this situation, he eventually assigned their roles: the injured man was placed on a wooden plank carried by four villagers, while four young samurai surrounded it front and rear for the return journey.
In the end, Yajibei and Jinpachi, along with five others—making seven in total—were left behind.

The Demon Horse Chronicle lists the full names of those seven individuals. They consisted of Itami Yajibei Masatsune, Hozeki Gonkurō Muneshige, Kumagai Kogohachi Terukata, Kurate Sukesaburō Masachika, Kurahashi Denjūrō Naoyuki, Kasuya Jinpachi Tsunesada, and Kambara Mozaemon Motoharu. Though their ages were not individually recorded, Mozaemon Motoharu—nineteen years old and the author of *The Demon Horse Chronicle*—was apparently the youngest among them. The seven divided into three groups. The first group consisted of Yajibei and Sukesaburō, the second group of Gonkurō and Kogohachi, and the third group of Denjūrō and Jinpachi, while Mozaemon alone was to remain at this house of Jirobei’s widow. In short, since it was necessary to establish this place as the base camp and have someone remain on guard duty, the youngest member, Kambara Mozaemon, was assigned to that post. Each group of samurai set out from there accompanied by two village youths as guides, making four members per group. By the time of their departure, the night had grown late, and a dark sky hung heavily over the village.

Of course, guard duty was dissatisfying, but Mozaemon, being young, had to endure it. Sitting on a tree stump lying on the dirt floor, he was silently glaring into the darkness outside when Omoyo came to draw hot water for him.

“You’ve had quite the ordeal.”

“It’s quite something to have so many people looking after me,” said Mozaemon as he drank the hot water.
That served as the opening, and Omoyo began speaking of the Sea Monster.
Mozaemon also asked various questions for his own understanding.

“The wife here encountered a terrible misfortune; it was truly pitiful.”

“It was indeed a truly terrible misfortune,” Omoyo said, her eyes moistening.
“However, since even esteemed samurai meet such fates, there was nothing my daughter could have done.”

Even esteemed samurai could meet such fates—this struck him as a kind of insult, and the young Mozaemon felt a twinge of displeasure. Yet he couldn't bring himself to deeply reproach the guileless old woman before him.
Moreover, he deeply regretted Ichigoro and the others' failure.

“The wife here was trampled to death by the Sea Monster, I suppose,” Mozaemon asked again.

“That is correct.”
“Several of her ribs were trampled and broken.”

“That was brutal.”

“I was truly shocked as well,” Omoyo said, her voice growing hushed.
“That too might have been divine punishment for her wantonness.”

“There was said to be a young man from the neighboring village with her,” Mozaemon pressed.
“Did he escape unscathed?”

“That would be one called Tetsusaku from the next village,” Omoyo answered with barely concealed bitterness.
“Being a man, he appears to have abandoned Ofuku and fled first.”
“Ofuku was my own flesh and blood—thirty-eight years old this year.”
“We took in a man called Jirobei as son-in-law, but when their union bore no children, we adopted a girl named Orachi—sixteen now.”
“After Jirobei died two summers past, we three women barely scraped by... yet before I knew it, Ofuku had entangled herself with that Tetsusaku from across the way...”
“Tetsusaku himself should be twenty this year—cousin to Orachi—so his frequent visits seemed natural enough.”
“But with Ofuku being near twice his age... Never did I imagine...”
Her voice broke.
“To let down my guard only to face such disgrace—such unspeakable shame before all...”

“What has become of that Tetsusaku?”

“Recently his body has fully healed, and he himself seems to feel somewhat guilty for abandoning Ofuku to her death and fleeing.”
“He sometimes comes by to help with various things, but if such a man continues visiting us like this, it would only harm our standing in society, so I’ve been telling him not to show his face here whenever possible.”

Omoyo started to say something but then looked toward the dark entrance as if noticing something.

"Oh, rain has come," she said.

When Mozaemon also noticed and peered outside, the sporadic sound of rain could be heard in the darkness.

“It’s finally started raining.”

He stood up and went out under the eaves, and Omoyo followed after him.

“You must all be in quite a predicament.”
“It’s been raining so much lately—it’s quite a bother.”

There were vacant lots both in front of the house and to its side, and on the side stood a small shed.
Omoyo, who seemed to have suddenly noticed this, abruptly called out.

“Isn’t that Orachi over there?”
“Since I hadn’t seen you around for a while, I thought you were sleeping in the back...”
“What are you doing there at this late hour?”

Scolded into emerging from behind the shed, the small figure required no further introduction from Omoyo for Mozaemon to immediately recognize her as Orachi, the sixteen-year-old granddaughter. Orachi came before them with an unsettled demeanor, as if cowering from something.

"Won't you greet the castle samurai?" Omoyo said again.

Orachi wordlessly bowed to Mozaemon and entered while looking back when Omoyo—muttering to herself, “What was that one doing?”—had barely taken position to peer toward the shed before the old woman suddenly sharpened her voice.

“Who’s there?”

Startled by this, Mozaemon peered out and saw what appeared to be a single black shadow still lurking behind the shed. Omoyo shouted reproachfully again:

“Who are you?”
“Tetsusaku, isn’t it?”
“What brings you here at this hour?”
“Seeking Ofuku’s ghost?”

The other party did not respond to this either; only the sound of footsteps retreating into the dark rain could be heard.
And then, just as he had barely gone four or five ken past the front of the house when a shrill scream suddenly pierced through again.
Then came a cry—whether a whinny, a bark, or a growl—an unidentifiable sound that resounded high through the darkness as if shaking it.

“Ah, that’s it,” Omoyo suddenly whispered tremulously.

There was no time for questions and answers.

Mozaemon sprang out front as though dancing, and the rain was steadily intensifying.
Not wanting to waste time turning back to light the match cord, he dashed straight toward the direction of the scream—only for the straw sandals to slip in the rain and send him tumbling into a vegetable patch by the roadside.
When he fell and tried to rise again, he collided with something.
He realized it must be a large beast, but the distance was too close for Mozaemon to draw the sword.

He desperately grappled with the monster, and it flung him away with tremendous force.
Thrown off balance, Mozaemon fell again but immediately sprang up and drew his sword.
And then, slashing wildly at whatever he could reach in the darkness, his blade met nothing but rape leaves and flowers, with no substantial resistance to speak of.
He strained his ears to discern the footsteps, but the relentless downpour's noise interfered, rendering that impossible.

“What a disappointment.”

He was standing there dejectedly when three or four people came running up. It was Kurahashi Denjuro of the third unit, Kasuya Jinpachi, and the guides. They had heard that eerie cry and rushed to gather, but it was already too late. Denjuro too was frustrated, but Jinpachi in particular showed keen disappointment. He tried to erase the evening's disgrace by wildly swinging his match cord and dashing about, but ultimately ended up exhausted to no avail.

Not only the third unit but also the first and second units gradually arrived. Then, illuminating the area with torches, they searched all around. That too ended in failure, so they had no choice but to temporarily withdraw to Jirobei’s widow’s house serving as their headquarters. There, what was first discovered was that Mozaemon had been grasping several long strands of hair in his left hand.

When and how I had grabbed this thing—even I had no clear memory of it. As I gradually thought back on it, it seemed that during my wild slashing in the darkness, I might have grabbed hold of something. Or perhaps at that moment, one hand had grabbed the beast’s hair while the other slashed at it. Or perhaps I had no real intention of cutting it—the tip of my wildly swung blade might have merely grazed it. Since Mozaemon himself had been completely absorbed, he struggled to explain what exactly had happened—but the fact remained that his hand was clutching the mysterious beast’s hair. He had apparently been clutching that hair tightly in his frenzy while slashing wildly with one hand.

“Well, in any case, this is a commendable feat.”
“It’s akin to when Watanabe no Tsuna severed the oni’s arm.”

Itami Yajibei, who could be called tonight’s commander, praised him.

IV

Another discovery was Tetsusaku’s figure lying half-dead by the roadside.
He too was carried into the same house and tended to by the people, but at dawn, he finally died.

“It must be Ofuku’s grudge that’s getting me kicked to death by the Sea Monster,” said Tetsusaku.

On the brink of death, he turned to Omoyo and made a terrifying confession.

Ofuku had not been trampled to death by the Sea Monster; in truth, it was Tetsusaku who had killed her.
As previously mentioned, Tetsusaku and Orachi were cousins, and due to Orachi being taken into Ofuku’s household as an adopted daughter, Tetsusaku began frequenting the place. After Jirobei’s death, he eventually became involved in an affair with the widow Ofuku.
Of course it was a romance initiated by the woman, and affection between two people with an age difference as great as that between parent and child was never meant to remain bound for long.
Especially as Orachi, who had become Ofuku’s adopted daughter, was approaching her sixteenth spring, Tetsusaku’s heart gradually became drawn toward her.
That caught Ofuku’s eye as well, instantly igniting the flames of jealousy.
"Even if we don’t share blood, how dare you steal the man of someone you call a parent?!" Ofuku berated Orachi day and night.
As for Tetsusaku, she confronted him with a visage as fierce as a demon, reprimanding him intensely.

Even when Orachi explained that these were unjust accusations she was innocent of, Ofuku refused to accept it.
In front of her mother, Ofuku could not openly say anything about it, but behind the scenes, she relentlessly tormented Orachi and at times said such things.

“Why don’t a wretch like you just get trampled to death by the Sea Monster?”

Unable to bear it any longer, Orachi confided this to Tetsusaku. He, already at his wit's end enduring the older woman's fierce jealousy, suddenly conceived a terrifying plan.
He plotted to carry out Ofuku’s so-called “Get trampled to death by the Sea Monster” exactly as she had said.
He lured Ofuku out into the dark night, suddenly knocked her down by the roadside, and hurled a large stone at what appeared to be her flank—whereupon Ofuku died without uttering another word.
The shattering of her rib bones was due to that.

Confirming the woman's death, Tetsusaku carried the stone some distance away. He hid the evidence and skillfully made it appear entirely the Sea Monster's doing. He intended to slip away quietly then and there—but at that very moment encountered the real Sea Monster. Startled by this, he panicked and fled in disarray, only to tumble into that pitfall during his escape. With matters having reached this point, he spoke to his rescuers while mixing lies with truth. The fact that he had come this far with Ofuku and encountered the Sea Monster—since both were true—made the honest villagers readily believe Ofuku had been trampled by the creature. The real Sea Monster's appearance there became for him an unexpected boon.

Having thus concealed society's eyes, he successfully buried his aged mistress from darkness into darkness and then attempted to obtain a younger lover.
Orachi did not exactly hate her cousin—the young man—but being dimly aware of her foster parent's relationship with him, she would not simply yield.
Driven to impatience by this indecisive attitude, Tetsusaku had stealthily summoned Orachi again that night and was engaged in desperate negotiations behind the storehouse when Grandmother Omoyo discovered them.
In this situation—where discovery meant inevitable trouble—he let Omoyo's calls fade behind him as he fled outside, only to encounter the Sea Monster again four or five ken ahead.
He fabricated an elaborate falsehood regarding Ofuku's death.
And thus he died exactly as that lie dictated.

Mozaemon too was one of those who heard that confession.
He included it as an episode in his *Demon Horse Chronicle*, adding a note stating “Though unnecessary for the main text,” and when seeing how he recorded Tetsusaku’s account in relatively detailed fashion, one could infer that the samurai of that time also held considerable interest in this incident.

The night’s exploration ended in failure, and in the early morning with rain still unceasing, the seven samurai returned to the castle in vain.
Among them, it went without saying that Mozaemon, who had managed to grasp the mysterious beast’s hair, was the foremost achiever.
Furukawa Ichigoro died at the end of March, his treatment having been unsuccessful.
Even when April came, the rumors of the Sea Monster in Tatara Village showed no signs of abating.
Under these circumstances, even within the castle walls, they could no longer turn a blind eye—just as Yajibei had said—for there were both matters of reputation with neighboring domains and the considerations of the territory’s residents.
It was decided that they would hunt down that mysterious horse, and so eighty Kobayakawa samurai and fifty foot soldiers from the firearms unit, each divided into five groups, commenced a large-scale horse hunt on the night of April twelfth.
The seven men from the previous night also all took up their respective positions.

The continued days of threatening rain since April began proved fortunate for the horse hunt that avoided moonlit nights.
Yet on the first night, they found nothing.
The second night too met with similar failure.
On the third night—the fourteenth—shortly past the Hour of the Boar (10:00 PM), the fourth group finally discerned a shadowy form along Tatara River's banks.
Signal whistles shrieked and torchlights flared into chaotic unison, drawing all groups rushing to the spot.
Though belonging to the fifth group, Kambara Mozaemon arrived swiftly given his position's proximity.

The mysterious shadow moved through the water.
Determined not to let it escape，the samurai surrounded the shore from a distance.
The foot soldier unit lined up fifty firearms and unleashed a volley of shots.
Startled by this，he saw there was no escape route left toward the shore and proceeded ever further into deeper waters.
The pursuing volley of firearms continued resounding.
Hearing these gunshots，nearly all villagers came rushing out en masse.
Torches multiplied until riverside grew bright as day，yet that shadow receded farther away.
It seemed swimming across deep waters，then sank like stone near sea’s edge，vanishing without trace.

They sent out boats to pursue it, but its whereabouts ultimately remained unknown.
Fearing it might circle back underwater, they kept bonfires burning all night along the shore in vigilance—but it never showed its shadow again.
Had it escaped to the sea, or had it drowned and sunk beneath it?
That too, of course, remained unknown.
Even though there were torches, because the distance was considerable, no one had definitively witnessed its true form.
Therefore, people’s explanations varied—some still insisted it was undoubtedly a horse.
Some said it seemed like a bear.
Some suggested it might be a baboon.
However, the theory that it resembled a horse held the majority, and to Mozaemon’s eyes as well, it appeared to be a horse.
Whether it was a horse or a bear, all who saw it agreed that it was far larger than ordinary specimens and appeared to be shrouded in exceedingly long hair.

Upon hearing this report, Physician Kitabatake Shikibu within the castle said:

“That should not be called a Sea Monster. The Sea Monster is commonly referred to as a sea lion, and since its four legs are webbed, it should not wander recklessly on land. It likely did not emerge from the water but was instead a bear or wild horse that descended from the mountains, wandering along the water’s edge or through the water itself to drink or catch fish.”

The sole piece of evidence to verify this was the clump of hair that remained in Mozaemon’s possession, but even Physician Kitabatake Shikibu could not determine what exactly it was.
Since there were many theories claiming it was a horse, it could only be said to be either a Sea Monster, a wild horse, or ultimately a type of Demon Horse.

Whether the Demon Horse had drowned to death, been wounded by the firearms, or fled far away in fear of that night’s attack—in any case, after that, it no longer let its eerie cries be heard in this village.
The nights of Najima Castle Town returned to their original tranquility, and the domestic horses of each household slept peacefully.—The record of Kambara Mozaemon Motoharu ends here.

Mr. M added a final note.

I did not know the river called Tatara, nor was I familiar with the geography around Najima, but according to the map, it appeared near the sea.
The record itself stated that the Demon Horse had sunk near the sea, making it easy to imagine how even in those days, the Tatara River must have connected to maritime waters.
Given this foundation, I reasoned that local residents would have inherently understood what constituted a Sea Monster without requiring Kitabatake Shikibu's explanation—yet found myself struggling to reconcile how such a creature could emerge ashore and provoke widespread alarm. Ultimately though, I saw no alternative but to provisionally accept this account.

As for the hair said to be from that Demon Horse, in recent years we sought appraisals from two or three specialists yet no definitive conclusion was reached.
However, it appears to have been a terrestrial creature—some suggest it may have been a type of wild beast now possibly extinct that emerged from some remote mountain area.
In Tachibana Nankei’s *Saiyuki* written much later during the Tenmei era (1781–1789), there are accounts of mountain-dwelling creatures called yamawaro inhabiting Kyushu’s remote peaks and yamame beings being shot dead—thus one cannot definitively say no such beings dwelled here during those Bunroku era days.
If indeed it came from mountains then driven into endless sea must have ultimately sunk to thousand-fathom depths.
Thus may have marked end of beast—last of kind remaining our country.
In Conan Doyle’s novels too exists story quite similar describing ancient giant bear appearing place called John Brew Gap.
Doyle’s tale likely fabrication but this presented factual record—with physical evidence remaining makes intriguing account.