as a houseboy. I got him a room elsewhere. I had to have it out with Shuji who went to room with him. Shuji terrorized him. The room I supplied was a good deal and Shuji wanted to be in on it. Shuji took the rebuff with grace.

Three full days of the week belonged entirely to me. Exploiting my newfound freedom of travel, I drove deep into the interior over dirt roads and pathways. Often it was just over open terrain that never knew a road. The jeep had sunk in mud in isolated areas and had been dug out by the kindly farmers and villagers who spotted my plight. At times I would have to wade across swift streams to get to a farm house and ask for help. One shocked farmer, in nothing more than a jock strap, allowed himself the luxury of amazement, but only for an eyewink before he was leading his horse to my rescue. From this mass of kindness and generosity I chose my friends-male friends-toward whom my spirit groped. These men were farmers, fishermen, students. They knew nothing of blasé living or neurotic behavior, yet they responded to my needs with a gentleness and understanding that caused them to wield their shovels to free my vehicle. They trusted their natural instincts and responded to their natural drives. Not all of them-but most of those I was drawn to, responded to me.

I found a tiny hamlet in the mountains. I was visiting, collecting, studying whatever I found of the hirsute aborigines of the island. I needed an assistant. A crowd gathered near my jeep, too well-mannered to come too close or to stare. I gazed at the lovely group. The women saddened me. I would never experience their charms and pleasures. I could never thrill them with the gadgets and prosperity Westerners knew. The young men turned frequent glances toward the car in insuppressible curiosity about the strange visitor in a red contraption. I spotted a visor cap. Underneath it was an anxious face that was fearful that the tourist, having seen the hamlet would then disappear forever. I pointed to him and signalled him over. He stepped forward followed by the entire gathering. I asked him to be my interpreter and to help me carry the bows, arrows, mortars, pestles, swords, baskets that we would collect. Unsmilingly, uncertainly, not really knowing what I had asked him in my unmastered Japanese, he stepped into the vehicle. I quickly whisked him away. When we were rather distant from his home, he became restive and wanted to return. We had been travelling about a half hour. I had planned to accomplish a great deal that day. He had never been so far away before and he was apprehensive about his mission and the company. I turned the car around and faced it in the direction of his home, but I parked in a clump of trees. If he were an American boy and the circumstances were the same, what I did would have been the last thing he would have expected. He was genuinely afraid but he at once returned my embrace, affection, warmth. He knew in some way from the very beginning that this would occur. We started back, but he did not recognize the area and was not certain I was taking him home. His insecurity continued until we actually entered his village and he knew where he was. The grim expression turned to joy as he said "kairimasu." It means "come back."

I came back several weeks later because the jeep needed repair. When I found him, he looked at me with the expression that meant to convey that I could be sure that there would be no more nonsense. That evening we drove into Biratori-a charming village with comfortable inns. We had made the rounds and our jeep was loaded with quivers, mats, clothing manufactured from

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