Shipwrecks Read Online Free Page B
his house. By now the sky was dusky grey.
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He left the house carrying a flaming torch in his hand. When his mother heard that he had been ordered to watch over the fires under the cauldrons, she had become unusually cheerful and had pan-roasted beans for him to eat during the night. The torch flame flickered in the wind. He left the path and went down to the shore. He could see the colour of the fire ahead of him on the beach and sensed that someone was there.
He picked up his step. The manâs good eye was trained on Isaku. The other was pale and cloudy, having long since lost its glint. Isaku was indeed fortunate to have Kichizo, who was on good terms with Isakuâs father, initiating him.
Large stones had been arranged in two spots on the sandy area of the beach to serve as a base for the two big cauldrons. The wood under one of them had already been lit.
âLight that one, too,â said Kichizo, looking toward the second big pot, which was about ten yards away on the beach. Isaku responded eagerly, pulling out a bundle of dried branches from under a straw mat, swinging it onto his back, and carrying it over to the other cauldron. He put the branches into the stone enclosure and lit them with a burning piece of wood. The twigs and branches crackled as they lit. Isaku placed more wood on the fire.
Flames rose from under the two cauldrons, flickering in thewind off the sea as sparks scattered on the sand. Isaku watched the flames as he sat next to Kichizo on a log inside a makeshift wooden hut.
Several years earlier, Kichizo had been afflicted with an eye disease which had left him unable to go out fishing, forcing him to sell his wife into bondage for three years. She came back to the village after she finished her term working at the port at the southern tip of the island, but, as she was almost six months late returning from bondage, Kichizo suspected that she must have taken up with another man.
Whether it was true or not was unknown, but there were rumours among the villagers that she had had a child and had extended her term in order to clean up the matter.
Kichizo had beaten her violently, and in a fit of rage he even cut off her hair. On such occasions, when she had fled sobbing to Isakuâs house, his father and mother had intervened. Kichizo had stopped beating his wife only after the village chief stepped in and admonished him severely. After that he had become a sullen man of few words. Often at night he used to visit Isakuâs house, sometimes bringing wine made from millet. He would sit there silently, nodding as he listened to Isakuâs fatherâs fishing stories.
âYou know why we make salt on the beach, donât you?â said Kichizo, his good eye trained on Isaku.
One yearâs supply of salt would be produced and then distributed according to the size of each family. But Isaku realised that there was another reason for Kichizoâs odd question.
âItâs to summon O- fune- sama , isnât it?â he said, looking Kichizo in the face. Kichizo said nothing, turning his eye back to the cauldrons. From his expression, Isaku sensed that his reply had not satisfied the man.
Isaku thought the village chiefâs order meant that he had to know all about tending the salt cauldrons. There was much he didnât understand about the village rituals, but now that he was an adult he could no longer afford to remain ignorant. After tonight he would have to tend the fires under the cauldrons by himself, so he needed to get Kichizo to tell him everything.
âIs it to pray for O- fune- sama to come in to the shore?â he asked.
âItâs not just for praying. Itâs to attract ships passing the beach,â said Kichizo impatiently.
âTo attract ships?â
âThatâs right. When the north-west winds start to blow, the seas get rough and more ships get into trouble. At night when the waves start to wash over the decks,
  Â
He left the house carrying a flaming torch in his hand. When his mother heard that he had been ordered to watch over the fires under the cauldrons, she had become unusually cheerful and had pan-roasted beans for him to eat during the night. The torch flame flickered in the wind. He left the path and went down to the shore. He could see the colour of the fire ahead of him on the beach and sensed that someone was there.
He picked up his step. The manâs good eye was trained on Isaku. The other was pale and cloudy, having long since lost its glint. Isaku was indeed fortunate to have Kichizo, who was on good terms with Isakuâs father, initiating him.
Large stones had been arranged in two spots on the sandy area of the beach to serve as a base for the two big cauldrons. The wood under one of them had already been lit.
âLight that one, too,â said Kichizo, looking toward the second big pot, which was about ten yards away on the beach. Isaku responded eagerly, pulling out a bundle of dried branches from under a straw mat, swinging it onto his back, and carrying it over to the other cauldron. He put the branches into the stone enclosure and lit them with a burning piece of wood. The twigs and branches crackled as they lit. Isaku placed more wood on the fire.
Flames rose from under the two cauldrons, flickering in thewind off the sea as sparks scattered on the sand. Isaku watched the flames as he sat next to Kichizo on a log inside a makeshift wooden hut.
Several years earlier, Kichizo had been afflicted with an eye disease which had left him unable to go out fishing, forcing him to sell his wife into bondage for three years. She came back to the village after she finished her term working at the port at the southern tip of the island, but, as she was almost six months late returning from bondage, Kichizo suspected that she must have taken up with another man.
Whether it was true or not was unknown, but there were rumours among the villagers that she had had a child and had extended her term in order to clean up the matter.
Kichizo had beaten her violently, and in a fit of rage he even cut off her hair. On such occasions, when she had fled sobbing to Isakuâs house, his father and mother had intervened. Kichizo had stopped beating his wife only after the village chief stepped in and admonished him severely. After that he had become a sullen man of few words. Often at night he used to visit Isakuâs house, sometimes bringing wine made from millet. He would sit there silently, nodding as he listened to Isakuâs fatherâs fishing stories.
âYou know why we make salt on the beach, donât you?â said Kichizo, his good eye trained on Isaku.
One yearâs supply of salt would be produced and then distributed according to the size of each family. But Isaku realised that there was another reason for Kichizoâs odd question.
âItâs to summon O- fune- sama , isnât it?â he said, looking Kichizo in the face. Kichizo said nothing, turning his eye back to the cauldrons. From his expression, Isaku sensed that his reply had not satisfied the man.
Isaku thought the village chiefâs order meant that he had to know all about tending the salt cauldrons. There was much he didnât understand about the village rituals, but now that he was an adult he could no longer afford to remain ignorant. After tonight he would have to tend the fires under the cauldrons by himself, so he needed to get Kichizo to tell him everything.
âIs it to pray for O- fune- sama to come in to the shore?â he asked.
âItâs not just for praying. Itâs to attract ships passing the beach,â said Kichizo impatiently.
âTo attract ships?â
âThatâs right. When the north-west winds start to blow, the seas get rough and more ships get into trouble. At night when the waves start to wash over the decks,
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