Frontier Group Work
—Morning of December 9th—
By the time December comes to the isolated frontier, the fields and mountains are all covered by a sheet of snow. With river crossings closed to them for the time being, the frontier folk would construct ice bridges. The bottom layer was composed of logs, on top of which they packed branches and needles of spruce and conifer. On top of that they pack in and stomped down snow, and to top it off they poured water on the layers to freeze it. The individual layers added up to a sturdily-built bridge. In the harsh winters of the north, this bridge would function until the first thaw at the end of March.
Once the frontiersmen had finished their bridge sleigh-bells echoed through the mountains and traffic slowed to a crawl. Livestock which had spent the autumn asleep in their barns were ushered off to markets. People from far away would also come to the village during this time to trade. Therefore, to get to and from this mountain village, the ice bridges were a necessity.
Example of an ice bridge
There was only one way out of the frontier: a river crossing at the main branch of the Sankebetsu River, several kilometers downstream from the village. The ice bridge spanning that product was a cooperative project. One man from each house went downstream to lend his hand to the construction. This was one of the village’s annual events.
On that fateful December 9th, fifteen men left their homes to gather at the work site. They felled trees to serve as girders for the ice bridge. These trees, located nearby the house of Tsuji Hachikura, had been discarded by the Imperial Forestry Agency. The wives and children were left to watch over the homes.
That morning, Ōta Kazuo had prepared to go down to the work site. His foster son, Tsuneo, who ordinarily never followed his example, threw a tantrum. “Take me with you! I wanna go!” This began a small argument.
“You’re a kid! You’re no use there!” said his wife, Mayu.
“It’s fine, I’ll take him,” said Ōta. Ōta loved Tsuneo as he would his own son. The couple, unblessed with children of their own, had been strong-armed into caring for Tsuneo when he was six by an acquaintance of theirs, Hasumi Kahichi, until next spring, when he would be returned to his parents’ home in Rikibiru to begin school.
A man named Nagamatsu “Odo” Yōkichi was lodging with the Ōtas. Early in the morning he had gone out to gather supplies for a keel, and Tsuneo and Mayu were left to watch the house.
Around eight o’clock, Ōta Kazuo set out, along with Miyoke Yasutarō, for the group project. When they arrived, the mountain of corn they had piled up for food had been devoured, and the area was tracked with the paw prints of a bear. But the two men were unfazed. “A creature can’t get this big eating meat,” they rationalized. During breaks, the subject of the bear arose, but nobody was particularly unnerved, and so they all labored on in silence.