The Stone Ferry

Upon the Green Creek stood a ford called the 'Ford of Forgetting,' whose waters ran too swift for any boat. East of the creek lay many fresh graves; west lay open fields, and the souls of the dead who would cross were ever lost in mist.

The villagers said that on the last night of each month, and on nights of wind and rain, a stone bridge would suddenly appear upon the creek—ten rods in length, of flawless white stone, its posts carved with lotus. At the western end stood an old man in dark clothes with a walking staff of thorn-wood, who spoke not nor smiled, and led the souls across. At cockcrow the bridge vanished and the water rushed on, leaving no mark.

The fisherman Old Ke once beheld it upon a misty night. That evening the mist was thick; Ke lay in his boat and heard the patter of footsteps from the bank. He opened his eyes and saw three or four figures in white, supporting the aged and bearing the young, mount the bridge in silence. The old man led each across; at the bridge's heart the mist parted a thread, and upon the western bank a bean of lamplight seemed to burn. The souls crossed and looked back in bow, and the man only nodded.

Ke would have called out, but his throat was sealed and could not speak. Soon the east grew bright and the bridge indeed withdrew, leaving only a line of wet upon the creek's face.

The Chronicler of the Strange remarks: The living build boats to ferry the body; the dead lean on bridges to ferry the soul. The nightly stone bridge is no marvel—'tis Heaven and Earth pitying the homeless spirit, lending stone for a crossing. Men fear death as they fear the water, knowing not that where the water ends an old man waits, staff in hand and silent, suffering you to walk at ease. Then why should death be so swift to terrify?