4-6 (2)

by Mizukami Kyouka · 2026-03-31

“Now, listen. I then passed behind the cypress trees and emerged from beneath a rock to its top. I snaked through the trees and continued along the grassy path, on and on, endlessly.

Before I knew it, I had passed the mountain I had climbed earlier, and another mountain was approaching. For a while, the area was a vast open field, with a gentle, wide path, even wider than the main road I had taken earlier.

It was as if there were two parallel paths, slightly to the west and east, with a mountain in the middle, wide enough for a procession to pass, even with spears raised.

Even in this wide-open space, as far as the eye could see, there was no sign of a medicine peddler, and occasionally small insects flew about in the scorching sky.

Walking here felt more unsettling. When the surroundings were wide open, it felt inconvenient. Of course, on a day when one was determined to cross Hida, it was said that there would be one inn every seven ri, or five inns every ten ri, and if one could get millet rice there, it would be convenient. With that in mind, my legs were quite strong, and I pressed on without faltering.

Then, gradually, the mountains closed in from both sides again, making it a narrow place where it felt like they were supporting my shoulders. It was a path that immediately led upwards.

Now, I thought, this must be the famous Amau Pass, and I braced myself. In any case, it was hot, so I gasped and first tightened the straps of my straw sandals.

I later heard that there was a wind tunnel right around this upper mouth, which extended all the way to the floor of the main hall of Renda-ji Temple in Mino, but that was no ordinary place. There was no scenery or miracles to be found, and I couldn't even tell if the weather was clear or cloudy, so I hurried up, straining my eyes.

Now, what I'm about to tell you, as I said at the beginning, is that the path was truly bad. It was as if no one ever passed through it, and what was terrifying were the snakes. I thought they were sticking their tails and heads out from the bushes on both sides, slithering across the path.

The very first time I encountered it, I was wearing a straw hat and leaning on a bamboo staff when I gasped, bent my knees, and collapsed to the ground.

I truly hated it, or rather, I was terrified of it.

At that moment, it first dragged its tail as if to help someone, and then, as soon as it raised its head in the distance, it rustled through the grass and disappeared.

I finally stood up, and after walking five or six blocks down the road, the same thing appeared again, its body dry, its tail and head invisible, slithering into view.

I gasped in surprise and jumped back, but it quickly hid itself again. The third time I encountered it, it didn't move suddenly, and its body was thick. Even if it had crawled out, it would have been a slimy sight, and I think it would have taken about five minutes for its tail to emerge. Reluctantly, I stepped over it. At that moment, my lower abdomen tensed, a shiver ran down my spine, I felt as if all my pores had turned into scales, and I closed my eyes, thinking my face must have turned the same color as that snake.

It was so unsettling that cold sweat poured out, and my legs were so stiff I couldn't stand. As I hurried down the road, trembling, it was there again.

This time, it was a creature with only a tail from a body cut in half, the cut surface was blue, yellow fluid flowed from it, and it was twitching.

I lost myself and fled back, stumbling, but when I came to my senses, I thought it might still be there, and I couldn't bring myself to step over it again, even if it meant being killed. "Ah, if that farmer had told me, even by mistake, that there were snakes on the old road, I wouldn't have come, even if it meant going to hell," I thought, and tears streamed down my face in the glaring sun. "Namu Amida Butsu, it still makes me shudder," I said, putting my hand to my forehead.