Rokuro came up and offered a suggestion: "If we cut down trees at the upper reaches of the river and push them in with the foliage still attached, it may slow the current a little."
This plan was put into operation, and for half a day, more than a thousand workers felled trees and tossed them whole into the river. But this, too, failed to slow the current.
Rokuro's next suggestion was to sink thirty large boats loaded with huge boulders at the site of the proposed dam.
Pulling the huge boats up against the current, however, proved to be impossible, so wooden planks were set out on the land, oil was poured over them, and, with great effort, the boats were pulled overland and sunk with their loads of boulders at the mouth of the river.
In the meantime the great dike, stretching an entire league, had been completed, and the rushing current of the Ashimori was transformed into foam and spray and diverted toward the plain around Takamatsu Castle.
At about the same time, the waters of the other six rivers were channeled into the area. Only the channeling of the Naruya River had proved too difficult for the workers to complete on time.
Fourteen days had passed since the seventh day of the Fifth Month, the day the work began. It had been completed in two weeks.
On the twenty-first day of the Fifth Month, the forty thousand Mori troops under Kikkawa and Kobayakawa arrived at the border—one day after the surroundings of Takamatsu Castle had been transformed into a muddy lake.
On the morning of the twenty-first, Hideyoshi stood with his generals at the headquarters on Mount Ishii and looked over his handiwork.
Whether one thought of it a grand spectacle or a wretched one, the swollen waters— aided by the rain during the night—had left Takamatsu Castle standing completely isolated in the middle of a lake. The outer stone walls, the forest, the drawbridge, the roofs of
The houses, the villages, the fields, the rice paddies, and the roads were all submerged, and the level was rising hourly.
"Where's the Ashimori?"
In response to Hideyoshi's question, Kanbei pointed to a stand of pines that could dimly be seen in the west.
"As you can see, there's an opening in the dike of about four hundred fifty yards in that area, and we're running the dammed-up waters of the Ashimori through that break."
Hideyoshi followed the line of the faraway mountains from west to south. Beneath the sky directly to the south, he could see Mount Hizashi on the border. With the dawn, the countless banners of the Mori's vanguard had appeared on the mountain.
"They're the enemy, but you can't help but sympathize with what Kikkawa and Kobayakawa must have felt this morning when they arrived and saw the lake. They must have stamped on the ground in vexation," Kanbei said.
Just at that moment, the son of the official in charge of the work at the Naruya River site prostrated himself in front of Hideyoshi. He was crying.
"What's the matter?" Hideyoshi asked.
"This morning," the young man replied, "my father declared that he was guilty of inexcusable negligence. He wrote you this letter of apology and committed seppuku."
The official had been in charge of the difficult project of cutting five hundred yards through a mountain. Ninety yards remained that morning, thus he had not met his dead-:. Taking responsibility for the failure, the man had taken his own life.
Hideyoshi gazed down at the man's son, whose hands, feet, and hair were still covered with mud. He gently beckoned him to his side.
"You are not to commit seppuku yourself. Pray for your father's soul by your action on the battlefield. All right?" And he lightly patted the youth's back.
The young man cried openly. The rain began to fall. Stripes of white rain began to pour into the muddy lake from the thick clouds that were quietly descending.
It was now the night of the twenty-second day of the Fifth Month, the evening after the arrival of the Mori troops at the border.
In the dark, two men swam like strange fish across the muddy lake and crawled up to the dike. They triggered an array of clappers and bells that had been attached to a rope stretched along the water's edge, tied to the dwarf bamboo and brushwood, and made to look just like the brambles of a wild rose.
A bonfire burned brightly at each guardhouse along the dike. The guards came running quickly and captured one man, while the other was able to make good his escape.
"It doesn't make any difference whether he's one of the soldiers from the castle or on an errand from the Mori. Lord Hideyoshi should question this man carefully."
The commander of the guards sent the captive to Mount Ishii.
"Who is this man?" Hideyoshi asked as he went out to the veranda.
Retainers held lamps at either side of him, and he stared down at the enemy soldier, who was kneeling beneath the rain-covered eaves. The man knelt proudly, both arms bound with rope.
"This man's no soldier from the castle. I'll bet he's a messenger from the Mori. Wasn't he carrying anything?" he asked the retainer in charge of the prisoner.
In his preliminary investigation, the retainer had found in the man's clothing a sake bottle containing a letter, which he now placed before Hideyoshi.
"Hm… it seems to be a reply from Muneharu, addressed to Kikkawa and Kobayakawa. Bring the lamp a little closer."
The Mori reinforcements had been discouraged when they saw the lake that stretched as far as the eye could see. They had rushed to the castle, but had no idea how to aid it now that it was surrounded by water. They advised Muneharu to surrender to Hideyoshi and save the thousands of lives inside the castle.
The letter that Hideyoshi now held in his hand was Muneharu's response to that suggestion.
You have thought sympathetically of those of us here, and your words are filled with benevolence. But Takamatsu Castle is now the pivot of the western provinces, and its fall would surely signal the demise of the Mori clan. We have all received favors from the Mori clan since the time of Lord Motonari, and there is not one person here who would extend his life even by a day by selling the victory song to the enemy. We are firmly prepared for a siege, and are resolved to die with the castle.
In his letter, Muneharu was actually encouraging the reinforcements. The captured Mori messenger answered Hideyoshi's questions with unexpected frankness. Since Muneharu's letter had already been read by the enemy, he seemed resigned to the fact that it would be futile to hide anything. But Hideyoshi did not make a complete investigation. It was a matter of not humiliating a samurai. What was useless was simply appraised as such, and Hideyoshi turned his thoughts in another direction.
"I think that's enough. Untie this warrior's bonds and turn him loose."
"Turn him loose?"
"He swam across that muddy lake, and he looks cold. Feed him and send him off with a pass so he won't be arrested again on the way."
"Yes, my lord."
The retainer untied the messenger. The man had naturally been resolved to die, and was now confused. He bowed silently toward Hideyoshi and started to get up.
"I trust Lord Kikkawa is in good health," Hideyoshi said. "Please send him my warmest greetings."
The Mori messenger knelt down in the proper fashion. Feeling the depth of Hideyoshi's kindness, he bowed with the deepest respect.
"Also, I think there is a monk by the name of Ekei on Lord Terumoto's field staff. Ekei of Ankokuji."
"There is, my lord."
"I haven't seen him for a long time. Please send him my regards as well."
As soon as the messenger had gone, Hideyoshi turned and asked a retainer, "Do you have the letter I gave you earlier?"
"Quite securely, my lord."
"It contains a secret message of great importance. Take it directly to Lord Nobunaga."