Motion Picture Magazine (Aug 1914-Jan 1915)

92 MOTION PICTURE MAGAZINE He beckoned feebly, and she fetched him the sword of his samurai ancestors. And over her bowed head, as he slipped lower and lower on his mat, he gave her the words of the dread oath, Katana. 1 ' For those who sin must die by the sword ! " he muttered, and, as she kist the bright tracery of the blade in solemn promise, the burnt-out old man lay back in final sleep. After that, in November, there came a laquered box of dry chrysanthemums for Masao, and a message from Hisa that the head of the family had passed away and that she now lived alone with her mother and young brother. Masao spread out her flowers before him, and his eyes turned inwards to the vision of the gleaming, emerald bay with the gnarled and ancient pines sentineling its shore, and back of the low hills the golden-purple sky. There, in a tiny garden filled with white and yellow blooms, strolled Hisa, his little wife-to-be, and overhead the shining bronze of the turning maples vied with the luster of her high-piled, scented hair. But such day-dreams were stolen joys for Masao — the athletic council had found him out. Lithe as an eel, wiry, untiring, clean-living, he was a natural born athlete. In the dashes he showed a clean pair of heels to the former speed-artists, and indoors his gliding, sinuous shape became the dreaded attack of the basket-ball five. At night he locked his door and studied with the thirst of an acolyte. It was after the victory of the gymnasium team over Leland Stanford that a reception was given to the athletes in the flower-decked gymnasium. Masao was the lion of the hour. His breath came in a gasp as the crowd rushed up to shake his hands. He had done a wonderful thing in the lightweight wrestling by forcing his unbeaten opponent to the mat. "Masao Mori, let me introduce Mrs. Deane and Captain Deane, one of our old football stars. ' ' Masao remembered the quick hand shake of the woman and his looking up into the face of the ruddy, blond giant. Deane looked the Jap over critically; then sighed. "I cant coach the team this year," he said. "I'm a bride of. the sea, you know — steamer Governor, trading in Yokohama and Nagasaki. But if my eyesight holds out, I look to see you passing the leather as our new quarterback. * ' The big man passed on to give place to others around the college idol of the hour. The purple skies turned to sunless black; the pound of angry surf on the sands of Enoura ; the scream of a typhoon's breath in the pines on the shore. A league off shore a big steamer had struck a ledge of hidden, conglomerate rock and was slowly settling into her grave. The crew had long since taken to the boats, and only one man remained on the sea-swept decks — a big, blond man with water-soaked, tawny hair. At last his turn came, too, and, buckling on a life-preserver, he flung himself into the sea. For breathless minutes he battled for control in the giant cauldron of cresting waters; then his strength gave out, and he let the rushing wall beat over him. A half-laden sampan of the fleet of Gombei staggered shoreward like a wounded thing. The fish were dumped into the sea to give place to the leaping waves. Then one of the brown fishermen reached out suddenly and clung to a floating object which others helped him drag into the boat. Thru the black, shrieking scud the sampan fled to the land. Thus the lifeless body of Captain Deane came to the Bay of Enoura. And in the house of Hisa, on the gentle slope of the hill, a girl knelt in steadfast prayer for the lives of the fisherfolk. As she bowed her head against the floor, the frenzied gusts of wind laid trembling fingers on the frail paper shoji and shook them till they danced like fire-flies.