Chapter 3 - Yumi Crafting
"Masaatsu. I have a request."
"If it’s about those bullies again, I’m going to have to decline. In order to become a man of good standing you need to be able to handle things like that yourself."
Masaatsu’s face was a mess of guilt as he suggested that, but still his resolve on the matter seemed rather unwavering.
Gengyo shook his head.
"No, that’s not it. I will deal with them soon but for now—"
In Masaatsu’s surprise, he missed the log he was intent on splitting before cutting Gengyo off mid-sentence.
"What? You’ll deal with them? Before when I mentioned it you would always—"
Gengyo cut him off in return and nodded.
"Yes, brother. I intend to find some way of dealing with them, rest assured. But for now, do you have any idea where I might find some bamboo – around two metres tall would be perfect."
Masaatsu played with his long hair in thought. His tall stature and handsome face were a poster boy image for any young samurai.
’It truly is a shame how much birth decides. This kid deserves better than this.’
"Mmm. There’s a cl.u.s.ter of bamboo further into the forest if you walk straight for about five minutes... but what do you want bamboo for? Are you going to start spear training? That’d be a good idea seeing as though we don’t have long left."
"No, not a spear. I’ll show you what it is when it’s finished."
Masaatsu looked curious, but didn’t prod Gengyo any further.
"Hehh... Well, it’s getting a bit dark. Do you want me to come with you whilst you pick your bamboo?"
’Truly a good kid...’
"Nah, it’s okay. The dark is a mere absence of light – there is nothing to fear. Thank you for your help, brother."
Gengyo began walking deeper into the forest with a slight wave, leaving Masaatsu to his task of chopping the wood.
’Hmm, Tadakata’s changed somehow... though I can only hope he’s changed enough to survive the battles to come.’
Masaatsu thought to himself as he watched the silhouette of his younger brother disappear further into the forest.
...
...
The bamboo was exactly where Masaatsu had said they would be. It was a rather dense patch of bamboo, with no apparent route through it, leading one to believe that it had never – or at least rarely – been touched.
Gengyo walked around the perimeter of the green bamboo, searching for one that met the requirements he had for it.
’Too short.’
’Too thin.’
’Too bent.’
He critiqued each piece of bamboo ruthlessly. He did not want something mediocre – something that merely did the job. He wanted something that even a master craftsman would not frown when using.
Though Gengyo had never made a bamboo bow before, he was well aware of the procedure, and using the knowledge he had of physics, he was confident he could make one that not only looked good, but was also mathematically sound, and therefore accurate.
After a good deal of searching, he managed to find it. The perfect piece of bamboo. It was tall – a little over two metres – and straight. Its diameter was also of a thickness suitable for bow making.
’Good. This just needs heat curing, and then we can get to work on the actual bow.’
...
...
Following an uneventful meal, with a more docile father, Gengyo was back outside, sitting by a fire he had set up and with a machete-like blade laying by his side.
It was almost completely dark by now, and everyone else had retired to bed before another hard day’s work tomorrow.
However - spurred on by a sense of urgency - Gengyo was adamant that a bow and a few arrows had to be completed tonight, so that he might start practising tomorrow.
’Tomorrow’s work is going to be tough... but it’s not like I’m unused to pulling all-nighters.’
He held the bamboo shaft over the flames, only moving it along when he was sure that the area had been hardened sufficiently.
’Good.’
He nodded to himself, happy with the tempered state of the bamboo, and then he reached for his blade.
Using the blade, he measured four ch.i.p.s into the end of the bamboo, making sure that they were an equal distance away from each other.
And then, he pushed the blade down the shaft, using the ch.i.p.s as guidance so that he might cut the shaft evenly in half.
It was rather difficult to negotiate his way through the bamboo using just that simple blade, and even more so to do it with the aim of keeping it straight. But Gengyo managed, using the precise eye he had acquired from the many years spent fiddling with circuit boards.
And then he repeated the process again, so that he was left with the four even segments that had once made up the bamboo shaft.
These segments were straightened using his blade, forming four even strips of wood. The wooden strips were then placed on top of each other, and tied together using some hemp string.
At this point, you could already see the beginnings of the bow. It was able to hold a good amount of tension when Gengyo folded the ends in, and so he proceeded, satisfied.
A series of wooden wedges were then hammered in under the string, forcing the bow to assume its curved shape, and then he began to paint the bow in a glue, so that it would retain its shape even when the wedges were removed.
Whilst the bow was busy setting, Gengyo quickly made some bamboo arrows, and sharpened them after they were fletched with geese feathers. He did not have access to arrowheads, so he used to small stones to mimic the weight.
As he finished up, stringing his bow, the first light of dawn could already be seen and a sliding door began to open.
Masaatsu stepped out, fiddling with his kimono and about to relieve himself.
He only saw Gengyo as he turned his head to admire the morning woodland, and by then it was too late. Attempting to stop himself midstream, he only succeeded in soiling his kimono as he almost fell from the raised platform of the porch in his shock.
"Tadakata... What on earth are you doing!?"
Gengyo regarded him calmly, and continued adding on the finishing touches to his bow.
"Ah, Masaatsu, good timing. Finish your business and then come over and see what I used that bamboo for."
Masaatsu blushed deeply, as he dashed behind a tree, member in hand, before relieving the last of his pent-up urine.
Heaving a sigh of relief, he calmed himself.
"Have you been out here all night?"
"Hmm. Guess you could say that. Are you done? Come on out from behind that tree and check it out. I’ll let you have the first shot."
’First shot?’
Masaatsu thought to himself, intrigued, as he quickly adjusted his kimono and marched over to his younger brother.
"What..? Is that a bow?"
Gengyo nodded, and handed it to him, not resentful in the slightest of his masterpiece being used by someone else.
"My god... this is fantastic! I’ve never held a bow this fine."
Masaatsu examined the bow, noticing the symmetry of the build and the perfect diameter of the body, and the fine upper and lower curves.
"Did you really make this? How much does it draw?"
At this, Gengyo could not help but be a little proud, for it had a draw strength that could even rival the European longbow.
"110 pounds."
"110 POUNDS? What!?! Is that even possible? I thought the maximum was around 90... and even then I’ve only ever used a 30 pound bow. Can I try it? Please?"
He could not help laughing at the excitement of his brother.
"By all means. Here’s an arrow – try not to hit a tree. The tip will probably break."
Masaatsu took the arrow gratefully, and carefully nocked it.
"It really is 110 pounds... I can’t even draw it the full way back. But if not a tree, then what am I meant to aim for?"
"Mm. A bird perhaps?"
"A bird? But I’m going to have to find one first..."
"Try that crow that’s been watching us for the past ten minutes."
"What? Where?"
"To your left."
"Oh. Right... I’m going to shoot then."
"Wait, first look along the top of the arrow, and make sure it lines up with the crow’s body."
Masaatsu followed his advice, and released the arrow.
It flew at lightning speed due to the immense weight of the draw, and surprisingly, the arrow was even accurate. The crow did not stand a chance.
... Rêađ lat𝒆st ch𝒂/p/ters on n𝒐/v/𝒆/l(b)i𝒏(.)c/𝒐/m
...
"Mother! We can cook this for tea tonight!"
Masaatsu said, proudly presenting the dead crow.
"What’s this Masaatsu-kun? How did you manage to catch a crow?"
Fuku wrinkled her nose slightly as she took the corpse from Masaatsu by its feet.
"He shot it. He’s a surprisingly good aim."
Gengyo chipped in.
"Shot it? Myyy, I didn’t know we had an archer in the family. Who did you borrow the bow from?"
Masaatsu put his hand on Gengyo’s shoulder before lying on his behalf.
"Old man Azai lent it to us, right Tadakata?"
"That’s correct. We’ve decided we wish to be in the yumi ashigaru."
They had agreed beforehand that it would be wiser not to let anyone else know of the bow, even if it was their own parents. A bow of such quality was considered a treasure, and Gengyo did not want his name to become too well known should the news of his skills spread.
"Yumi? Mmm, that’s a good idea, dear. It’s a lot more sensible than being one of the yari ashigaru. But you’ll need to pass the test first—"
Masaatsu cut her off at that.
"Don’t worry mother, we know how difficult it is to get in. We’ll train hard and make you proud."
’Not that you’ll need to train much, though.’
Gengyo thought to himself. Masaatsu’s skill with the bow was unnatural – nailing a crow first shot. It could have been dumb luck but Gengyo concluded that unlikely.
Earlier - whilst using the bow - Masaatsu had asked Gengyo why he had decided to make it, since he had never shown an interest in such things in the past. It was then that Gengyo shared his desire to be one of the yumi ashigaru, to which Masaatsu firmly approved, and expressed his own desire to do the same.
"I had thought being an archer was just an excuse to not be on the frontline... but after playing around with this, I realize it’ll be a lot more exciting than wielding a spear."
He had said whilst they discussed it, and now he was a veritable walking advertis.e.m.e.nt.
"I see. I’m sure your father will be proud too – we’ve never had a bowman in our family before."
The now sober Morohira walked in at that.
"Mm. It would be a step up, that’s for certain. When I had to battle as a youngster it was always as a yari. It’s not a fun role. Bowmen are people of skill, and so are treated much better. Do your best kids."
He was a completely different man with the alcohol out of his system, and Gengyo nodded with enthusiastic approval.
"I will make you proud father."
He stated solemnly.
At that Morohira could only scratch his head awkwardly, evidently recalling some of the events of his drunken episode.
"Yeah... thanks."
Fuku was beaming happily, seeing the now reconciled state of her husband and children, as they talked about their dreams for the future.
’If only this could last forever...’
She thought to herself.
’If we had just a little bit more money, perhaps it could.’
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