Kanbei watched the laborers. Exhausted by working all hours of the day and night, some hardly moved at all. They had only two weeks to complete the project.
Two days. Three days. Five days passed.
Kanbei thought, Progress is so slow that we won't be able to complete the dike in fifty or even in a hundred days, much less in two weeks.
Rokuro and Kyuemon were going without sleep, supervising the workers. But no matter what they did, the men were disgruntled and insolent. To make matters worse, some laborers intentionally sabotaged the schedule by persuading even the comparatively submissive workers to hinder the project with deliberate slowness.
Kanbei was unable to watch passively. He finally began to visit the construction site himself, staff in hand. Standing on a hill of fresh earth at a section of the dike that had finally been completed, he looked down, with eyes aflame, at the thousands of workers. When he discovered someone showing the least bit of sloth, he would dash up to the laborer with a speed hardly befitting a cripple, and beat him with his staff.
"Get to work! Why are you being lazy?"
The laborers would tremble and work frantically, but only while Kanbei was watching them.
"The crippled demon warrior is looking!"
Kanbei finally made a report to Hideyoshi: "It's going to be impossible to finish on time. Just to make sure we are prepared, I'd like to request that you decide on some strategy beforehand in case the Mori reinforcements arrive while the construction is only half done. By the gods, it's more difficult getting these laborers to work than it is getting troops to maneuver."
Uncharacteristically nervous, Hideyoshi counted silently on his fingers. He was being informed hourly of the approach of a large Mori army, and he received the dispatches just as he might watch the clouds of an evening squall approach the mountains.
"Don't be discouraged, Kanbei. We still have another seven days."
"The construction is less than a third finished. How are we going to complete the dike in the few days we have left?"
"We can do it." This was the first time Hideyoshi had contradicted Kanbei so strongly. "We can finish it. But it won't be done if we only get the strength of three thousand men from our three thousand workers. Now if one man works like three or even five men, our three thousand workers will have the strength of ten thousand. If the samurai supervising them act in the same way, one man will be able to muster the spirit of ten men, and we should be able to accomplish anything we want. Kanbei, I'm coming to the construction site myself."
The following morning, a yellow-robed messenger ran around the construction site, ordering the laborers to stop their work and gather around a banner set up on the dike.
The workers from the night shift who were on their way home, and the men just now coming on, all followed their bosses. When the three thousand workers were assembled, it was difficult to differentiate the color of the earth from the color of the men themselves.
Prompted partly by uneasiness, the wave of blackened men moved forward. They had not lost their false show of courage, however, and continued to joke and banter. Suddenly the crowd became hushed as Hideyoshi moved toward the stool set up next to the banner. His pages and retainers were to his right and left, and stood back solemnly. The demon warrior, Kuroda Kanbei, who was the target of their daily malice, stood off to the side, resting on his staff. He addressed them from the top of the dike.
"Today it is Lord Hideyoshi's wish that you tell him your thoughts. As you all know, the time allotted for building the dike is more than halfway through, but the construction is going slowly. Lord Hideyoshi says that one of the reasons for this is that you have not been making a real effort. He has commanded you to gather here so that you can frankly explain why you are dissatisfied or unhappy, and what it is that you want."
Kanbei stopped for a moment and looked at the laborers. Here and there, men were whispering.
"The bosses of the various groups must understand the feelings of their men well. Don't miss this opportunity to tell His Lordship exactly what you want. Five or six men should come up here as representatives and speak out about your dissatisfactions and desires. If they are legitimate, they will be addressed."
With that, a tall man, stripped to the waist and with an insubordinate expression, came forward. Looking as if he were trying to gain favor with the herd of men, he climbed aggressively to the top of the dike. When they saw this, three or four more laborers swaggered up after him.
"Are these the only representatives?" Kanbei asked.
As they approached Hideyoshi's camp stool, each of them knelt down on the earth.
"It's not necessary to kneel," Kanbei told them. "Today His Lordship has cordially asked you to explain your discontent. You've come up here before him representing all of the laborers, so speak your minds freely. Whether or not we finish this construction on
time depends on you. We want you to tell us the reasons for the resentment and dissatisfaction you have hidden inside yourselves until now. Let's start with the man who came up here first, on the right. Speak up now." Kanbei's tone was conciliatory.
When Kanbei urged them to speak a second time, one of the five men representing the laborers spoke up.
"Well then, I'll take you at your word and speak, but don't get mad, all right? For one thing… well, all right… please listen to this…."
"Speak."
"Well, you're paying us one sho of rice and a hundred mon for every sandbag we haul, and the fact is that all of us—a couple of thousand poor folks—are real happy to be employed. But, well, we all think—and me, too—you might go back on your word because we're all just laborers, anyway."
"Well now," Kanbei said, "why should a man with Lord Hideyoshi's reputation go back on his word? Every time you carry a sandbag, you receive a branded strip of bambooo that you can exchange for pay in the evening, don't you?"
"Yes, Your Honor, we get the bamboo strips, but we only get paid one sho of brown rice and a hundred mon even if we've carried ten or twenty sacks in one day. The rest is military stubs and rice tickets to cash in later."
"That's right."
"So it troubles us, Your Honor. What we've earned would be fine in either rice or money, but without the real thing, a poor day-laborer like me can't feed his wife and children."
"Isn't one sho of rice and a hundred mon a living far better than what you usually earn?"
"You shouldn't joke, Your Honor. We're not horses or cows, and if we worked like this all year, we'd be done for. But, well, we've agreed to it, following His Lordship's orders, and we've been working day and night. Now, we can do unreasonable work if we get our wants filled along the way, and thinking that afterward we can drink sake, pay back our debts, and buy some new clothes for the wife. But if we get paid in promises, we just can't continue putting our hearts into the work."
"Well, you're pretty hard to understand. Lord Hideyoshi's army has made it a principle to rule benevolently and has done nothing despotic at all so far. What, really, do you have to complain about?"
The five laborers laughed coldly. One of them said, "Your Honor, we're not complaining. Just pay us what we've earned. We can't fill our stomachs with waste paper and rice tickets. And, more important than that, who is going to give us real money for that waste paper on the day Lord Hideyoshi loses?"
"If that's what it is, you have nothing to worry about!"
"Ah, but wait. You say that you're going to win, and you and all these generals have staked your lives on this gamble, but I wouldn't put a half share on a bet like that. Hey, everybody! Isn't that right?"