Once they were led away, he had Hyonai summoned.
* * *
“Hyonai, Hyonai. I am sure you have heard about the quarrel yesterday. I thought that by permitting your farmers to plant rice, it would lead to an increase in harmony, not in discord.”
Hyonai kowtowed. “I apologize, on behalf of all of the farmers, and not just those three fools, for the disturbance.”
“So what do you suggest I do, Hyonai? Forbid the rice cultivation after all? Allow it, but without the old rite? Require that tradition be followed, too? Divide the paddy lands in two, Christian and non-Christian?”
Hyonai pondered the question. “The culture of Japan is a culture of rice,” he said, his words as slow as a river in summer. “We do not merely eat the grains, we make clothing out of the wara, the dried straw of the rice plant. The rice is our mother and our father. We celebrate the first work in the rice field, the sowing, the planting-out, and the harvesting.
“The people know, deep in their hearts, that as kirishitan, they should not continue the old rituals, but they need new ones to take their place. Otherwise they will lapse into bad habits.
“Let those who best know the words of the Lord In Heaven devise new rituals, rituals that are similar, where possible, to those we have done since time out of mind, yet pleasing to Deusu.”
* * *
And so Imamiro Yojiro, who, as a lay catechist, was the First Fleet’s highest-ranking religious leader, found himself at a field altar near the mouth of the Pajaro River, asking that Saint Isidore the Farmer, canonized in 1622, bless the rice paddy of Niji Masu.
There was, of course, no torii, the red-painted gate that marked a Shinto shrine. But Yojiro thought it most convenient that the kanji character “ta,” meaning a rice paddy, was a square divided by a cross in the middle. He had a sign erected with the cross painted in red and the square in black. The spectators could see “ta,” or just the cross, as they pleased.
Girls carried the seedlings from the nearby nursery to the paddy, for transplanting. They were dressed in special costumes: red pants, green shirts, and hats festooned with greenery and flowers. They walked clockwise around the paddy, singing the rice-planting song, as their fathers and brothers played flutes, beat on drums, rang bells, or banged wooden blocks together. They were followed by the samurai, dressed in full armor.
At the end of his prayer, Yojiro thanked “God in Heaven, He Who Blesses the Growing Rice.” The words “growing rice,” in Japanese, were ine-nari. Yojiro was well aware that this would evoke remembrance of Inari, the Great Kami of Fertility.
Kawa Machi/Salinas,
Summer 1635
David Date coughed to get his sister’s attention, and pointed down, toward the outer gate of the little castle of Kawa Machi. “Well, it appears that your Indian friend First-to-Dance has come up in the world.”
Date Chiyo-Hime saw that the figure down below was indeed First-to-Dance. Chiyo summoned Mito and they walked briskly—running would have been undignified—down to the gate to greet her.
As before, First-to-Dance was wearing a double apron, braided tule in front, buckskin in back. The same otter skin robe she had before covered her shoulders, but it was only loosely clasped, allowing glimpses as she walked of the large, ornate necklace she now wore. The sunlight glinted off her new earrings. The two men following her were carrying baskets, and their manner was ever-so-slighty subservient.
* * *
Date Masamune had been surprised to learn that among First-to-Dance’s people, a woman could be a chief. It wasn’t common, because the office usually passed from father to son, but if no son were available, the old chief’s sister or daughter was considered the next best choice. Likewise, a woman could serve as a “speaker,” dealing with neighboring tribes.
Before, First-to-Dance was of interest primarily as a source of information, and, secondarily, as an intriguing companion who might distract Chiyo-Hime from other mischief.
Now, she was a diplomatic envoy of a tribelet of perhaps a hundred people. While her people were certainly no match for the Japanese militarily, Masamune was anxious to avoid unnecessary conflicts. There was no telling when a Spanish ship would spot the Japanese settlements.
First-to-Dance bowed in the manner that Chiyo-Hime had taught her. “Noble Guardian, I offer the greetings of my people to yours. I bring you gifts.” These included tobacco, shell beads, feather headdresses, and strips of rabbit skin. Masamune didn’t know it, but these were all traditional offerings to the spirits. There were also a few small stone mortars, containing red and white pigments.
“And I have gifts for you,” Masamune said. These included a steel knife, a bolt of silk, and a mirror. The mirror had a bronze back, with a chrysanthemum blossom design upon it, and a reflective surface that was a tin-mercury amalgam.