Pathway to Japanese Literature

“Let’s be on our way.”
Indeed, the light shifted, and everyone stood up.
The short grass where they had been sitting.
Something like a heat haze was wavering.
It wasn’t a heat haze.
That light was merely what their retinas had perceived.

“Let’s be on our way. Only those who want to go.” Those who hadn’t come yet couldn’t be helped.
He had already been waiting for twenty minutes.
Though admittedly, this blue dormitory by the roadside had been pleasantly refreshing.

From now on, they would have to return here once more and reach the inn across by eleven o’clock.
“Where’re we goin’?”
Right—some of them didn’t know they were going to Kama-ike.
“To Kama-ike—about thirty minutes.”

Because it was nestled in gentle fresh whites and greens under open daylight, it felt perfectly suitable. The calico cloth and those wrapped sweets could stay behind. Satchels and such could all be set down on this turf too—there were bound to be things they wouldn’t need along.

“I’ll wait here, then.”

It was the Principal.
The Principal, stout and dressed in dark clothing, had indeed spread his legs wide and settled himself on the grass before the woods at the roadside.

“Very well, I shall take my leave for a short while.”

The green of trees, the green of trees—the clouds in the sky today were sweet-sour too, the sway of footsteps and waves of light.
The sway of footsteps and waves of light.

It was a clay path.
It was dry.
Yellow.
Path.
Clay.

Young pine trees and woods surrounded them.

The woods displayed shifting contrasts of light and dark through their varied greens.

Moreover,the students all appeared vibrant.

And yes-that black section on the distant cliff was unmistakably an obsidian dyke.

I never imagined one could observe it so distinctly from this vantage point!

Excellent-perfectly clear.

"Please observe that cliff ahead," he instructed.

"You'll notice a black,pillar-like rock formation protruding slightly.Correct?"

"That represents volcanic rock forced into sedimentary stone fractures."

"It consists of obsidian."

Should I term it 'dyke'?

No-'rock vein' proves more accurate.

"We classify such formations as rock veins."

Had they grasped this?

“Did they understand?” he wondered. “You can see a black rock protruding vertically on that cliff over there. That is igneous rock that welled up within sedimentary rock. A dike—that’s what it is.”

It swayed and swayed—nets of light.

“This mountain is composed of rhyolitic tuff. The quartz trachyte tuff has extremely poor soil quality. You’ll notice only red pines and small mixed trees grow here,” he explained. “However, around that area—on the gentle slopes at the foot—magnificent blue-green broad-leaved trees grow abundantly. That section over there is an old alluvial fan. It was carried here and formed relatively fertile soil.” The manner of tree growth appeared different there—this should have been clear. They would understand.

Yet everyone kept walking in silence. This was how it always went.

I’m lonely.

But it meant nothing.

There were some crouching down to pick up stones at the rear.
It was a grove of young pines.
They grew thickly.
This path continues all the way to the upper reaches.
During afforestation periods, horses laden with seedlings and such would plod along here in droves.

“Near Shitodaira, south of the Toyosawa River, there’s a beautiful mountain densely covered with cedar trees. The way trees grow here can’t even begin to compare to that place over there. That area consists of andesitic agglomerate, while this here is rhyolitic tuff. Lime, potassium, and plant nutrients are far scarcer here—cedars and such simply can’t thrive in these conditions.” The one nodding along with thoughtful hmms in the back was Fujiwara Seisaku. That guy was Ota—he understood well.

“However, the area where cedars grow over there is on the north side, while this side faces south and east.”
“That is one factor, but even without it, cedars and cypresses would not grow here even on the north side.”
“Even if you look at that cliff over there, you’ll understand.”
“This mountain shares the same geological composition.”
“However, being on the north side, mixed trees have grown somewhat better here.”
No—it didn’t work.
Mentioning that last part only ended up complicating things.
I shouldn’t have said it.

Even so, that cliff was quite splendid with its tender greens, gray buds, and the blue of birch trees.
Sato Shin was walking alongside me.
Sakuraba picked up tuff again.
That small child with bright red cheeks and reddish hair.

The clouds broke up; the sun was shining; there was no more need to worry about rain.
I had mentioned it once before—perhaps I should explain that flat pine tree at the bald spot there again.
The pine tree was flat and black.
A shadow was also cast.
I had seen a collotype like that somewhere.
Oikawa and them must know.
Perhaps I should stop.
No—
I’ll do it.

“Now then, are you ready? There’s a large yellow bald spot over there, you see. Over there, roughly halfway up, a single pine tree is growing, you see. It’s flat and looks exactly like a crushed mushroom. Why did it end up like that? The soil is shallow, so when the roots spread out even a little, they immediately hit rock, you see. They can’t grow downward even if they try, you see. They can only spread sideways, you see. However, roots and branches form similar shapes as a correlative phenomenon. Branches spread out sideways like the roots. When planting a cherry tree, if you bundle the roots and plant them straight down, the part above the soil will stand upright like a broom. If you spread them, they will spread.”

"That’s right."
"I learned that in forestry studies."
What was it he said?

This tall, big-eyed student.

It had become a slope.
Rocks lay scattered about.

“Teacher, what do you call this rock?”
“It’s obviously tuff.”

Tuff.
It was rhyolitic tuff.
It had been silicified by the hot spring associated with the tuff.

The light formed into swaying nets.
Everyone's footsteps.
A dense thicket of small pines.

“This here’s Kama-ike. I’ve seen it plenty times before.”
“Even so, I came again today.”

Someone was speaking from behind.
That red-faced student—the one whose eyes were always slightly bloodshot and who often looked on the verge of tears.
It wasn’t Gonaigawa either—what was his name again?

But I understood that term perfectly well.
I certainly understood it well.

Large boulders were scattered about.
Should I break off a piece to show them?
It worked.
There was a snap.
“This is andesite.
It was carried down from upstream.”

He started walking briskly.
It was Mr.Seki.
“This rock is andesite.”
“It was carried down from upstream.”
He was imitating.
It was Horita.
Horita was wearing a red woolen jacket.
His mouth moved unsteadily when he spoke, and his eyes—black and glistening—wandered vaguely, never settling on any particular point.
Now they glinted briefly from the side behind.

From within that pine forest emerged a single black field.

(Ah, fields do get included too—they do get included.
(Ah, fields do get included too—they do get included.) Who was it that had said something like that? Unreliable.
They must have meant a field like this.
The one I meant was that vast newly cultivated field beneath Kozakura Mountain—the one commanding a view from the upper Kitakami River far eastward to the mountain ranges—that’s what I’d been talking about.)

“Where in the world’re we s’posed t’be goin’?”

“Nah, we just gotta follow Teacher and go along, s’pose.”

Horita again.
It was the same path as before.
Behind something glowed yellow.
Everyone hesitated and cleared the path.
I'll take the lead.
I don't know this path well either but it's right there.
If it could be seen from the path just descend.

The firebreak had fallen far behind.

That must be Kozakura Mountain.
It possessed two steep ridges, dark and lying beneath cloud shadows.
The name didn't quite fit.
Yet there was a certain stillness there—a birch tree's mood deep in spring—though that was chance.
I didn't truly understand.

The path split into two.
This lower path must surely lead to Kama-ike.
There was no mistake about it.

The pines grew small and dense, clustered thickly together. Large boulders lay scattered about—dark-gray andesite stones of uncertain origin. When conducting geological surveys, one shouldn't strike ambiguous rocks like these—should I teach them that? Oikawa rushed past before me, towel around his neck and yellow clothes fluttering—should I mention it? But no, it would be unnecessary. It might only cause confusion. The slope had turned treacherously steep anyway—this was precisely how they'd descend to Kama-ike properly. Birds sang distantly while below, the stream roared violently—perhaps Kama-ike lay just beneath this spot? Let me take a quick look.

Black pine trunks and dried grass.
Everyone followed along behind.
The stream came into view.
Water was visible.
Waves and white foam were also visible.
Ah, still further down.
It was still far below.
Kama-ike.
Flattening out toward the waterfall at the edge, the water glided smoothly onward.
That too was still far below.

This cliff was too steep to descend.
They would go down below.
It was a pine forest.
There were also places trampled into something resembling a path.
They began to descend.
It was a thicket.
It was shaded.
Green branches of yamabuki and other growth were tangled messily.
The one leading the way was Ouchi.
Ouchi wore a yellow fieldwork uniform over his summer clothes, with a knot hanging at his waist, and pushed vigorously through the thicket.

He pushed through vigorously.

Suddenly, there was a steep ledge.
They clutched at trees; the trees glistened.
Two mixed trees—their trunks glistened.

“I’ll handle these trees and branches!”
Someone shouted from behind.
What did that mean?
Did it mean that when you grab a tree, it springs back and hits those behind?

A tree glinted and sprang back.
Did I do something like that?
No—I had been careful enough.
It was a thicket.
It was tangled.
Ouchi walked skillfully.

A cliff.
The waterfall was right there—no choice but to descend here.
All right, let’s go down.
Ouchi descended skillfully.
Steep!
This tree’s too thick.
Gray.
Steep! Grass! This tree’s thin! Green! Dangerous!
Quite steep.
Safe.
This tree’s been cut!
Hmm—that slope’s far too steep.

Going down?
Can’t be helped.
The trees are dizzying!

“If one falls, everyone falls!”
Someone was shouting from behind.
If someone were to fall, everyone would indeed fall.
Ouchi plummeted all the way down.

Ouchi went all the way to the riverbed and finally came to a stop.

At any rate, I’d managed to descend successfully.

I had descended a bit too far.
There was no path to the waterfall.

The tuff continued bluish-white for four or five sun between the cliff and the waves, but traversing there was utterly impossible.
Rather than that, I should still cross the water and go to the other side.
The riverbank on the other side was quite wide and continued all the way to the waterfall.

But my legs still got wet.
I had gone out of my way to take a detour from above to avoid getting wet—maybe I should set up one stepping stone.
Two could be used as they were, and I just needed to roll four more—first, I would take off my shoes.
Dirty blue socks in rubber boots?
“Wait a moment—I’ll get us across now.”

Can I move this stone?
It's rhyolite with considerable specific gravity.
It will move.
It’s in the water—Archimedes—it’s in the water, so it’ll move, it’ll move.
It worked.
The waves—this one’s fine too.
It’s safe.
It’s odd that the teacher in charge is making stepping stones, but also admirable.
Still strange.
I’m grateful.
It worked.

One person crossed.
They wobbled.
They crossed dangerously; two made it across.

Which one should I pick next? Only four had crossed so far.
I found it amusing how they stood neatly on the stepping stones with both feet together, four of them lined up waiting.
I’ll move the one on the far riverbank.
This one's a shaded stone.

Can I carry this one?
I can carry it.
But this was where the waves were strongest.
Probably a bit too small.
It's small.
The waves are kelp; I cross over them.
I’ll get another one.
This one’s slippery with moss.
That makes two.
Still unsteady. Need one more.
Though small, it makes a suitable base.
It’s safe.
Should I go barefoot?
No—I should put my shoes on after all.
Stuffed the annoying socks into the pocket; the pocket bulged out, feeling pleasantly full.

He crossed the water in rubber boots over bare feet, splashing noisily. This was proving to be quite advantageous. He had experienced something like this once before somewhere. Last autumn. It might have been pooled water in a humus-rich field. There was a black path ahead. He entered the cliffside thicket. This might be the path that crossed over Hane Mountain and came out onto the plateau, but he couldn’t be sure. Maybe he would climb it on the way back. No— No good. It was ambiguous, and besides, they probably couldn’t cross.

“Teacher, what’s this stone?”
He picked up a fragment and held it.
Hmm.
“What do you think it is?”
“What could it be?”
“It’s tuff.”
“All of them around here are like that.”
“Pumiceous tuff.”

Earlier, everyone had tried not to get their feet wet, but with the sun shining and the water clear, before they knew it, they had waded into the river.

They were steadily climbing up the waterfall.
It was a cascade.
Such a wide, flat cascade shone brightly—a welcome sight.
Going further up would likely reveal even flatter terrain.
But I had intended to show them a pothole specimen—it wasn't as clearly defined as I'd imagined.
I felt somewhat disappointed.
How exquisitely round and smooth the rock was carved.
Water moss grew across its surface.
Would it be slippery?
It wouldn't slip.
The gritty friction of his rubber boot soles registered clearly.
No slipping.
Safe enough.
Water trickled down steadily.
Boots squelched rhythmically.
Everyone remained unharmed.
And they all followed close behind.

Moss grew beautifully.
The water had carved this part of the waterfall into such a perfectly rounded and smooth shape.
The softness of this erosion.

The terrain was already flat.
That was right.
I had gone upstream there once before.
No—it wasn’t this spot.
But it was remarkably similar—the river’s width, the cliffs on both banks, the patches of green grass dotting the shoals here and there.
The ground was already level.
Everyone had come quite a ways upstream.

“Please look here. Along these rock cracks, you can see how the color has turned red. Even in areas without cracks, there are places where red streaks run through. Hot springs once flowed through these fissures. The rocks turned red from the hot spring’s activity. This dates back to when this entire area lay deep underground for ages. Do you understand?”

They were silent.
The waves moved and beat against feet.
Sunlight fell.
The delight of wading through this water.
There was Sugiki.
Sugiki was staring intently into people’s eyes as usual.

"Please look here.
There are fissures in the rock—you see?
This is where thermal waters permeated through and altered its composition.
Such crimson veining may also arise from weathering processes.
Yet here we ascertain its hydrothermal origin through supplementary indicators."

They had gone quite far upstream.
Indeed, with the riverbed this flat and the water so clear, it was a premier thoroughfare through the mountains.
It was only natural they would want to keep ascending indefinitely.

They shifted toward the opposite bank.

“Teacher, what is this rock?”
“It’s Chiba.”
“It really resembles father.”
“What does it resemble?”
“What’s it made of?”
He remained silent.
Didn’t they understand?
Conglomerate.
“Conglomerate.”
“Tuffaceous conglomerate.”
“Oikawa.”
“Are you ready?”
“This is due to the hot spring’s activity.”
“It was due to the hot spring that passed through these cracks that the tuff underwent alteration.”

So everyone did understand.
This.
There seemed to be another waterfall over there.
A dusky black rock.
Was everyone saying they wanted to go that far?
There was a grassland with spring-cut wood piled up.
We’d come quite far upstream!
Here was a small terrace.

“What do you call those rock crevices again?”
“I did learn it though.”

[It's still just cracks after all.
[A crack suffices.] What they call joints must refer to polygonal jointing - these can't properly be termed joints.
Fissures then.
Cracks will do just fine.
I need better potholes for demonstration...
This elongated one might serve.]
"Do you understand how these elongated potholes form?"
"Stones and gravel carve them out."
"See how water makes gravel tumble?"
"They gradually grind through rock."
"Deeper sections will deepen further."
"There exist much larger specimens too."

Waves of sunlight, waves of sunlight—nets of light and nets of water.

"This here hole ain't properly round, Teacher."

Ah, excellent—this is a fine specimen.
I’ll take this one back.

“Now, take a look.”
“This is an excellent specimen.”
“Look here.”
“There should be stones inside here.”
“They have all become rounded, you see?”
“The water scraped them away.”
“Look.”

Truly fine gravel.
It was pure white.
It was perfectly round and wet with water.
I took it.
Someone was stirring it up again.
There was no more left.
The rest were brown and had some angular edges.
Ah, that was good.
This was such a blessing.
We had gone too far upstream.
Let’s head back.
The Principal was also waiting at that fork in the path.

Ho! Turn back. Ho!
The cliff opposite was sunlit, and his voice wouldn’t carry well.
It didn’t seem to reach them.
They kept climbing vigorously up the Ichinokawa River.
“Turn back, I say! Hey!”
“Turn back.”

They turned around! They turned around!
Once even one had turned back, that was enough.
It was better to climb back up to the earlier path from here rather than returning along the river—the slope was gentler and seemed just manageable.
[Everyone should get out onto that path from there.]

Waving a hand would get through to them.
It seemed they understood—understood—understood.
The Ichinokawa River gazed upon the path atop the cliff.

Someone was shouting from atop the waterfall behind. That was Otake. “I left my gear back there, so I’m goin’ this way.” “Very well.” [All right.] Otake had already started descending the waterfall. He was a quick one. Two or three more followed after him. Even after that, another followed behind alone, hunched over with an air of deep concern as he made his way down. Is that Saito Teiichi? In that brief glance this way lay a nimbleness akin to a squirrel’s. He really was worried. Poor thing.

Ichinokawa and everyone seemed to be filing up the cliff toward the path.

In that case, I should still go down the river.
If anyone were to stop partway, that would be troublesome.
Admittedly, my socks are in my pocket—there’s no absolute need to go down—but I’ll still take this path.
Ah, this feels good.
How many years has it been since I last walked along a river swinging a hammer this vigorously?
Waves wash at my feet; the water is cold; the sun shines.

“Teache~r, you’re walkin’ awful fast.” Was that Tomite or Sugiki saying such things? Being quick-footed refers to walking on paths. This too was flat and a superior walkway. There was nothing but water.

“Teacher, what’s makin’ that part of the cliff over there change color?” It was Kan. “The color of the cliff?”

“That area over there has lost its soil. It slid off.” “It slid off.”

Right.
Of course.
This was evidence of hot springs having passed through the fissure.
A vein of hyalite opal.

"Look here.
You see this white substance filling the rock crevice?
This precipitated from a hot spring.
Quartz.
Observe how it fills these fractures.
An excellent specimen."
Everyone gathered around.
It lay submerged.

"Shouldn't we take it?"
"No—this specimen stays precisely where it is."

"But shouldn't we take it anyway?"
"Shall we try?"
"It can be done."

This was rather troublesome.

“Teacher! There’s an even bigger one over here!”
“Here it is!”
“You could call this a nest!”
“We can take this one.”
“The pointed end of the hammer won’t work.”
“The flat side...”

The water splashed with a splish-splash.
The things over there fled, hmph.

"Is the water going to splash? After all, maybe I should go this way."

A white scar scored the rock. Two strikes landed.

It came free. It came free. Perfect. It’s fresh. Bluish-white.

It also had epidote. "No, this isn’t it—this is moss. Are you following? This is hyalite opal. This was precipitated from a hot spring. There are also druses. They are small quartz crystals. Take it with you."

Who was it up on the cliff shouting?

“Teacher.
“I caught a river imp!”
“Caught a river imp!”
It was Fujiwara Kentaro.
Wearing a black uniform and carrying a knapsack, he was laughing boisterously.
Why on earth had he shown up on that cliff now?

“Teacher.”
“We oughta take the downhill way.”
“Teacher.”
“Alright, let’s take the downhill way!”

Hmm.
It's safe.
It's safe. They descended and descended.
They came scraping along.
But that final step alone was dangerous!
The bare blue rock was exposed and steep.

[Hey.] They needed to angle their descent a bit more. Down they went, down and down. They kept descending swiftly. They were already in the water. [What happened?] “Teacher! I caught a river imp! Soaked my bag an’ everythin’!” [Where...]

They began to descend.
They arrived at the waterfall.
Some were descending.
Where water flowed, moss was green; where it did not flow, it was brown.
Everyone came down cautiously.
The flowing water areas are safe—they don't get slippery.
"Walk where the water flows.
The flowing water areas are safer."

That was the Katsumaru River.
Who was it that had their feet swept away into the pool?
No—it wasn’t the Katsumaru River.
It was the dark valley from moments of fancy.
It didn’t matter either way.
The water rushed on with a steady roar.
“Lovely.
That spot over there where the water splashes back.”

Hmm, even Hayachine Mountain's Nanuori Falls would just be a larger version of this sort of thing, I supposed.

Everyone was already descending.
I resolved to go down too.
A lone person was coming along from behind.
It looked precarious.

Walk where the water flows.
Walk where the water flows.

Right.
Right.
It feels good.