CHAPTER XIII
CRICKETS AND FIREFLIES
"To-night we must see the Bon-ichi," said Mr. Harding, "for to-morrowwill begin the Feast of the Lanterns." The young man had arrived on thescene the day before, surprising every one except, perhaps, his sister.
"Oh, I have read of the Bon-ichi," said Mary Lee. "I think the Feast ofLanterns must be the most wonderful of all. I wish we could see some ofthe customs in the native houses."
"No doubt that could be managed," returned Mr. Harding. "The Feastof Lanterns, or Bormatsuri, as it is called here, is truly a mostbeautiful festival. It begins on the thirteenth of July and continuesto the fifteenth. It answers somewhat to the All Soul's Day which youknow they celebrate in special ways in Europe. I think, however, thatyou will find the ceremonies here even more interesting."
"Tell us something about them," said Eleanor.
"New mats are woven for this feast to be placed upon all the Buddhistaltars. Shrines and altars are decorated with lotus flowers, thenatural flowers when possible, when not, paper ones are used. Freshboughs of anise and other plants are used as well. The little lacqueredtables from which the Japanese take their meals, and which you haveso often seen, are placed on the altar to hold the food served to thespirits of the departed. In the very poor houses, these offerings offood are sometimes merely wrapped in a leaf and laid on the fresh mats.Wine is not given, neither do they give fish nor meat to the departedfriends, but they offer fresh, pure water and give them tea every hour.They serve the meals exactly as they would to living guests, evensupplying chop-sticks."
"It is something like the Indian custom, this giving of food to thedead," remarked Mary Lee. "Why is it called the Feast of the Lanterns?"
"Because the prettiest sorts of lanterns are hung each night before thehouses. These are in special shapes and have a peculiar kind of paperfringe. At the going down of the sun, torches are placed in the groundbefore the earthly homes of the ghosts so that they may find their way.Welcome fires, too, are seen all along the shores of the streams, thelakes and the sea where there are villages."
"How perfectly lovely," exclaimed Nan.
"To my mind," Mr. Harding went on, "the last evening, the fifteenthof July, is decidedly the most interesting of all. It is then thatthe priests offer food to those poor ghosts who have no friends togive them anything, and it is the night when the dance of Bon-odori isgiven."
"Oh, I should like to see that," said Eleanor.
"But the most beautiful of all the customs," Mr. Harding continued,"is that of sending out the little boats of farewell, with a lanternat each prow and a freightage of dainty food. In these tiny crafts thesouls of the ancestors are supposed to return to their ghostly homes byway of the sea, bearing with them written words of loving cheer."
"It must be wonderful to see all the little boats afloat."
"It is a thing not to be forgotten. At the present time it is forbiddento launch them on the sea at the open ports, but in isolated regionsthey are still sent forth."
"It is all the most fascinating and charming feast that we have heardanything about," declared Mary Lee. "We must go over and tell motherand the rest about it. They will want to go to the Bon-ichi, of course."
"I will go with you," said Eleanor jumping up.
They had been sitting in the pretty garden near where a little fountainsplashed softly over rocks and pebbles, washing the feet of slenderaquatic plants and then trickling on to form a small pool in which atiny island was visible. Nan would have followed the two girls, but asMr. Harding said, "Please don't go," she sank back again into her seat.She would yield to the temptation this once. Jack would be in evidencethat evening and she must then efface herself, so she would take thesefew golden moments for her very own.
"I want you to go with me to the Bon-ichi this evening," said Mr.Harding. "Will you?"
"Why, yes," replied Nan. "We are all going, aren't we?"
"But you will go with me, won't you?"
Nan laughed. "As if it were an opera or the theatre you were invitingme to, I suppose."
"Exactly." He spoke quite seriously and Nan, stealing a glance at him,saw that he looked very grave and earnest.
"Oh, very well, I will consider myself specially invited," she repliedlightly, "though I don't see what special difference it will make."
"We were lost in the crowd that night at the temple festival in Tokyo,you remember."
Nan fidgeted with the leaf of a small plant near her. It made her veryhappy to have him talk this way, yet she wished he would not. No, shedid not wish he would not. She would like to be lost in any crowd solong as he was by her side. She wondered if Jack really did like him sovery much, and wasn't it disloyal to Carter to encourage Jack to smileon any one else?
Mr. Harding interrupted these conjectures by repeating, "You doremember, don't you?"
For answer Nan said, "I have the wee rabbit to remind me."
"And Kamakura?"
"I have this." She took the little jade figure from the small bag shecarried and held it out.
Mr. Harding took it in his hand, looked at it with a smile and handedit back saying, "Will you mind very much being lost again?"
Nan shot him a swift look. She felt the color rising to her cheeks asshe answered, "I will not mind." Then fearful of further temptation shearose and fled, not even turning her head as Mr. Harding called afterher, "Please, Miss Nan, don't go. Please come back."
Back she would not come, but she was happy, happy. She would letherself go for this one time. Surely so much was her due. In a littlewhile these happy days would be over. Mr. Harding would be returning tohis work. In the meantime let him choose between her and the youngergirl. She would let fate decide.
Why Mr. Harding had gone so far as to venture on such an invitation,Eleanor might have explained. She adored Nan and had charged herbrother with fickleness. Had asked why he treated Nan with suchcoldness when at first the two had seemed to be the best of friends. Hehad replied that it was all Nan's own doings, that she had turned thecold shoulder, and that he could but accept his position. "I think shewishes me to understand that some one else has a prior claim," he saidat last.
Eleanor considered this before she replied. "I don't believe a word ofit. I am quite sure she is not engaged to any one, but I shall make itmy business to find out from Mary Lee. If she isn't and even though shemay be interested in some other man, I don't see why you haven't asgood a chance as he has. There isn't a girl in the world I would ratherhave for my sister, Neal, old boy."
"You are a trump, Nell," returned her brother, but he did not say thatthere was no girl he would rather she should have for a sister, anomission which Eleanor thought of in the light of after events.
By some hokus-pokus, Jack found herself in the society of Mr. Montellwhen they all started off for the Bon-ichi. This young man had come upwith Neal Harding, and it is to Eleanor's credit that she managed tohand him over to Jack rather than to accept his escort for herself.Jack did not mind the experience in the least, although if it had beengiven her to choose, she would have selected Mr. Harding.
Between the flickering light of lanterns and torches all the way downthe street moved a crowd of people and soon the party of Americansbecame a part of the throng, themselves, though soberly clad,conspicuous above the little women in bright garments and the smallmen in blue or black or gray. In spite of this, Nan and her companionwere soon separated from the rest. They had stopped long before a boothwhere were sold lotus flowers and leaves for the ceremony of the morrow.
They lingered, too, to look at the bundles of hemp sticks, the crudedishes of earthenware, made especially for the ghostly visitors. Asthey turned away from these last, Mr. Harding looked down with a smile."Now we are alone," he said with a smile.
Nan understood. Who is so alone as in a crowd? Some distance aheadshe caught sight, once in a while, of the colonel's soldierly figuretowering up above his companions, and once or twice she could seeJack's hat, and her sparkling face tur
ned gaily toward her escort.
"We have gone back to the temple fair at Tokyo, I hope," said Mr.Harding as Nan grew more and more expansive and chatty.
"We won't talk about goings back," returned she lightly. "It is alwaysbetter to go ahead. What is done is done. We can control the futuresomewhat, but we cannot help the past."
"That sounds like one of Confucius' philosophies. I accept the lessonit holds."
Just what did he mean by that? Nan felt that she had been more didacticthan wise and wished she had said something else. She must be moreguarded. She forgot her introspections in the beauty of the things tobe seen at the next stall: wonderful lanterns of most beautiful shapesand colors, although there were some that were a pure luminous whiteand these were intended for the cemeteries. They stood long looking atthem but in time moved on to where queer little figures made of strawwere offered for sale. "What in the world are these?" inquired Nan.
"These are horses for the ghosts to ride and oxen to work for them,"her companion told her.
"How queer, how very queer, and what is that on the next stall?"
"That is incense."
A little further along they came upon Jean and Mary Lee all absorbed ina display of tiny horsehair cages, from which twinkled and sparkledmyriads of lights. Alongside of these were larger cages, though smallenough, of bamboo from whose interiors the strident notes of greatgreen crickets came incessantly.
"Aren't they darling?" cried Jean enthusiastically as Nan came up. "Youcan get a cricket and a cage for two cents, and for one cent you canbuy fifteen fireflies in a cage. Mary Lee and I are getting ever somany."
"What for?" inquired Nan.
"Oh, just to give them their freedom. We hate to see the poor littlecreatures caged. The cages are so curious that we want those anyhow."
"Have they any religious fitness?" Nan asked Mr. Harding.
"Oh, no, they are only for the children."
Nan concluded that she must have a cage, too, and bore away a galaxyof twinkling stars which she declared she would make a ceremony ofliberating.
Then while Mr. Harding told her a pretty tale of how the fireflies cameto exist at all, and then wandered off into other folk-lore, they movedslowly out of the seething crowd to find their way into shadowy grovesand at last to come upon a shrine before which lights were burning butwhere no one worshiped, for it seemed quite deserted.
"If we could but reach Kwannon-with-the-Horse's-Head," said Mr.Harding, "we could send up a prayer for the animals which have died,and Kwannon might answer."
"And where is Kwannon-with-the-Horse's-Head?"
"Away down near Izumo. I have seen the shrine and it seemed a verypleasant thing to think that these people cared to remember the welfareof their animals, and to want them to enter a better state after thetrials of this. Their religion seems very fanciful and, to us, full ofall sorts of errors, but one comes across very beautiful customs everynow and then."
Nan knelt before the little shrine and opened her cage of fireflies.One after another found its freedom, darting out and floating up intothe dimness of further distance. They stood watching them glimmeringfitfully under the dark trees. "They seem like departing souls,themselves," said Nan. "They make me think of 'Vital spark of heavenlyflame.'"
"Then you have found in them a symbol that the Japanese seem not tohave discovered. I knew you would surprise me with something of thekind."
"How did you know?"
"I divined it as one sees with the eyes of his spirit."
"There is one poor little firefly left," said Nan suddenly observing afaint glimmer still coming from the tiny cage. "I am afraid he is hurt.If I knew what to feed him on I would take him home and keep him tillhe is able to fly."
"They feed the crickets on eggplant and melon rind. We can get some onthe way back, or we can find out what to give this little fellow."
"Then that is what we must do, though I wonder if we take him so faraway if he can find his way back to his companions. Do you suppose hewill want to? Or does it make no difference to a vital spark where itis liberated?"
"I don't imagine it will make any difference. I know my soul could findits way to----" He stopped short fearing he was growing too bold.
"To where?" asked Nan.
"To its kindred soul," was the reply which was not exactly what wasfirst intended.
Nan sighed. It was all so dreamily mysterious out there in the mildwarm air under the trees. It was a great temptation to stay and listento perhaps more daring speeches. They were both silent for a littlewhile, Nan watching the feeble glimmer of the imprisoned insect, andMr. Harding watching her in the light of the lantern hung before theshrine. "It is very lovely here," said Nan at last, "but I think weshould go back."
"Must we? I could stay forever."
"It is very lovely," repeated Nan, but she began to move away from thespot.
They passed a temple where people were coming and going and heard theclanging of its gong, the shuffle of feet upon the stairway leading toit, the murmur of voices. "Shall we go up?" asked Mr. Harding.
Nan shook her head. "No, I don't care to, do you?"
"No, I would rather stay a little longer in the shadow of my dreams."They stood apart for a moment watching the moving throng, and then theyturned away, each dwelling in a world far away from that which theysaw, the land of Heart's Desire.
For some reason, Nan noticed that whenever Jack started off with Mr.Harding alone, after the night of the Bon-ichi, she was not allowed togo far without being joined by either Mary Lee or Eleanor, but whenshe, herself, happened to come upon either of these two latter in theyoung man's company, some mysterious errand would take one or the otherto another part of the house or grounds. She was too happy to searchvery far for the cause of this and accepted what fate brought her inthe way of a tete-a-tete. That it was anything more than accident shedid not ask, that it was really a conspiracy she did not for a momentimagine. For one short week she would enjoy herself and then let comewhat must.
The last day of the Feast of Lanterns was the great one. On its morningMary Lee came to her. "I want you to do something for me, Nan," shesaid. "I suppose you will think it is foolish, and of course I don'tin the least believe in these queer religions, for who could? But I dowant to do one thing. It seems as if somehow Phil might know that I amsending him a message and it would comfort me to pretend. I want tolaunch a little boat on the river this evening. Will you come with me?"
"Of course I will," said Nan heartily. "I don't think it is foolish atall. I should feel exactly the same under the circumstances. Where willyou get the boat?"
"Oh, I have it. I managed all that. I shall not do as the Japanese do,of course, and load it with food. I shall only write a little letterand shall send out my boat with the lantern on it. I hope Phil willknow," she said wistfully.
Nan's eyes filled with tears. This was the romance of Mary Lee's lifeshe understood. All the poetry and romance of her nature was centred inthe memory of the young lover she had lost. "I am sure, if our dearangels know anything of what we do, he will know," she answered hersister gently. "Are we not compassed about by a cloud of witnesses?"she added. "He must know, Mary Lee."
"I am glad you remembered that," returned her sister. "It iscomforting. I will come for you, shall I? or will you come for me?"
"Whichever you say."
"Perhaps you'd better come for me, then we can steal away by ourselvesmore easily. I know just the spot."
The sun had set, but there was still light in the sky, when Mary Leeand Nan set out for a secluded place along the riverside. The littlestraw boat which Mary Lee carried was carefully screened from view andit was not till they reached the river's brink that she took it fromits wrappings to set it afloat with its tiny lantern and the writtenmessage of love and longing. Very carefully Mary Lee lighted the smalllantern, very cautiously set the tiny craft afloat and watched it driftoff adown the current to join the fleet further along. The twinklinglights from many another frail bark sh
owed that a host of phantoms weresupposedly moving out upon the current to find the sea at last.
The two girls stood silently watching the boat slowly making its waydown-stream. When its tiny spark at last vanished around a bend in theriver Mary Lee turned away with a quick sob. "Sometimes I feel as if Icould not bear it," she said.
Nan put her arms lovingly around the younger girl and laid her cheekagainst the fair hair. "I know, I know," she whispered, "but he isalways there, dear, and always yours."
"Yes," returned the other, "and that is all that comforts."
"Suppose you had been obliged to give him up to some one else, lovinghim as you did, wouldn't it have been harder?"
"I don't know. Perhaps. Yes, he is mine, forever mine, and he may notbe very far away if I could only have faith to realize it. I shallthink he does know and is glad to have me do what I have done to-night."
They returned slowly saying little. As they neared the hotel, they sawJack and Mr. Harding sauntering through the garden paths. They appearedto be having an animated conversation. "Do you like Mr. Harding as muchas you did at first?" inquired Mary Lee.
"Oh, yes," returned Nan in as indifferent a manner as she could assumethough she felt the color rush to her face. Mary Lee stole a glance ather, and remembered what Nan had forgotten. It was when she did nottalk freely of any special man that she might be counted on as feelingthe deeper interest. Nan rarely discussed Neal Harding and Mary Leedrew her own conclusions.
"I wonder what Carter would say if he saw Jack now," she said after apause.
"He knows what Jack is," replied Nan, "and moreover I don't know thathe has any right to criticize her actions. We only assume that he hasany claim. Jack has never said so."
"No, she is a perfect sphinx upon the subject. Sometimes I think shedoesn't care a rap for him and again I am convinced that she wouldnever consider any one else."
"She is too young to know her own mind."
"I knew my own mind when I was younger than she."
"Well, I think she ought to have her chances."
"And you think Neal Harding is one of them."
"I think it within the bounds of possibility."
"Nonsense!"
"Why nonsense? He attracts her and I think she would attract him if----"
"If what?"
"If propinquity were made a factor."
"Do you think she would be happy married to Neal Harding?"
"Certainly. Why shouldn't she be? He is a fine, honorable gentlemanwith a good mind and with excellent prospects. I cannot imagine how anyone could find fault with him."
Mary Lee smiled wisely. "Oh, I am not picking flaws. I think he is finebut I don't concede that he would suit Jack in the least."
"Oh!" Nan seemed a little bewildered, but Mary Lee, watching the pairwandering around the garden together, made up her mind to severalthings which she did not reveal to Nan.
Jack espied her sisters as they came forward. She ran to meet themexclaiming: "Why, where have you all been? We have been looking allover for you. Mr. Harding wants us to see the great dance, the dancecalled Bon-odori. Eleanor and the rest are waiting for us. The othershave gone on ahead."
There was nothing to do but follow out the suggestion and in due timethe party reached the temple court where the strangely-fascinating,weird dance was going on. It was one of those peculiar religious ritesperformed in many countries on special feast days, though varying withthe time and place, a quaint and rhythmical march, accompanied by theclapping of hands, the beat of a drum. A procession of maidens swaying,turning, stepping lightly, moving gracefully around the temple court;this is what they saw. Presently others joined the procession, menand again other women. Then began the songs, curious antiphonal chantsrising with more and more volume as the company of marching figuresgrew larger.
"It reminds me of some strange old Scriptural rite," said Mrs. Cornerto the colonel. "One might imagine the daughters of Israel going out tomeet David, or dancing before the golden calf. It is very Oriental, butreally very beautiful. The hands are very expressive and the rhythm isperfect."
"I have seen the dance done in different parts of Japan," returned thecolonel, "and it is never quite the same, but it is always interesting."
They tarried till a booming bell gave signal that the dance was overand then they joined the throng of toddling women and shuffling men whoturned toward their homes.
"To-morrow," said the colonel, "the fishermen can go out again, forthose who have parents need not go without meat, although those whohave lost a parent must wait a day longer before they can have fish toeat."
"But we shall have fish," said Mrs. Craig with decision. And so endedthe great Festival of the Bonku.
CHAPTER XIVJEAN VISITS]