The Yecha

By the sea there was a village called Reed-Flower, whose folk lived by the catching of fish. Among them dwelt an old man named A-fu, who in his youth was overtaken by a hurricane upon the black waters and lost his boat. Clinging to a broken mast he floated and sank, certain of death. Then a great hand rose from the waves—bristling with coarse hair—and set him upon a reef. By the moon he glimpsed a body dark and green, eyes like red lanterns, its mouth split in a grin; no mortal thing. A-fu shut his eyes in terror, awaiting the bite. Yet no sound came; when he looked again, the creature had sunk away, leaving only a piece of shark-skin upon his breast. A-fu returned home and spoke of it to no one. Thereafter, on every windy and rainy night, a green light would wheel above the boats like a torch, circling thrice before it faded, and the fishermen were kept safe. When neighboring boats met peril, a black shadow was often seen bearing them home, though none knew why. In A-fu's old age his grandson Little Man also took to the sea. One foggy evening Little Man lost his way and struck a hidden reef; the water rose to drown him. Through the mist he heard the water rend like silk, and a thing bore his boat up and carried it to the shallows. He looked in awe: a green shadow stood at the edge of the waves, and turning its head it gazed at him, the red lanterns of its eyes warm and seeming to smile—and its markings were none other than those of the shark-skin his grandfather had kept. When the tide fell the green shadow vanished. Little Man went home and asked his grandfather, who brought forth the shark-skin and wept. 'This,' said he, 'is the debt of my life, saved from the drowning. That yecha spared me from death then, and now guards my grandson. Beasts know gratitude—and what of men?' From that time the villagers, fishing by night, would often see the green light upon the sea, and they called it 'Lord Yecha,' and built a small shrine upon the shore, offering sacrifice each season. The Chronicler of the Strange remarks: The world says the strange tribes have no feeling, yet for a single rescue, three generations were repaid. How many wear the cap and robe yet harbor a beast's heart? Gaze upon that green shadow's gentle eyes—can one feel no shame?