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them。 They shouted something to the boatmen； and Yejiro turned to
me。 The wayfarers asked if we would let them go with us to the sea。
There was no regular conveyance； and they much desired to reach the
Tokaido that night。 What would I do？
〃Oh！ Very well；〃 said I； reluctantly； 〃take them on board。〃
So it had come to this； after our romantic solitary voyage！ We were
to end as a common carrier； after all。 One is born a demigod； the
French say； to die a grocer。
Our passengers were honest and businesslike。 Soon after coming
aboard they offered to pay for their passage； an offer I politely
declined。 Then they fell to chatting with Yejiro； and I doubt not in
five minutes had possessed themselves of all our immediate history。
Meanwhile； the river was lazily dropping us down to the sea。 On the
left； at a respectful distance； a long； low rise； like a bit of
fortification； ran down indefinitely in the same direction； by way of
encouraging the stream。 Pitiable supposition！ Was this
meadow…meandering bit of water indeed our wild Tenriugawa！ It seemed
impossible。 Once we had a bathetic bit of excitement over a near
case of grounding； where the water had spread itself out to ripple
down to a lower level。 This was all to recall the past。 The stream
had grown steady and profitable。 More than once we passed craft
jarringly mercantile； and even some highly respectable automations；
water…wheel boats anchored in the current； nose to tail； in a long
line； apparently paddling up stream； but never advancing an inch。
And all these sights had a work…a…day； machine look like middle age。
The afternoon aged to match。 The sun began to dip behind the distant
hills； and then toward the east； in front of us； came out the long
outline of the Tokaido bridge； three quarters of a mile in length；
like a huge caterpillar crawling methodically across the river…bed。
Gradually we drew toward it； till its myriad legs glinted in the
sunset glow； and then； as we swept under； it wheeled round to become
instantly a gaunt stalking silhouette against the sky。 From below by
the river's mouth the roar of the surf came forebodingly up out of
the ashen east。 But in the west was still a glory； and as I turned
to it I seemed to look down the long vista of the journey to western
Noto by the sea。 I thought how I had pictured it to myself before
starting； and then how little the facts had fitted the fancy。 It had
lost and gained； if no longer maiden； it was mine； and the glamour
that fringes the future had but changed to the glamour that gilds the
past。 Distance had brought it all back again。 Delays； discomforts；
difficulties； disappeared； and its memory rose as lovely as the sky
past which I looked。 For the better part of place or person is the
thought it leaves behind。
End