The little house was perched on pilings over a pool at the<br >bottom of a waterfall. A winding pathway of great black<br >rt~cks led to it from the bank. The only sounds were the<br >p~attle of the waterfall and the sighing of the wind in the<br >pi.aes. The site had been chosen and the little house designed<br >fo~k，~eelusion and meditation.<br > It had been built ages earlier by the ancestor of their host.<br >Fujiwara Hidehira. Hidehira said his ancestor， banished from<br >Heian Kyo， had almost died of longing for the capital until<br >he built this meditation hut and found peace. It was kept<br >in ~epair and used by cvcry gencration of these Northern<br >Fujiwaras.<br > Jebu took off his clogs and set them on the mossy em-<br >bankment before trying to walk across to the house. The<br >stepping stones were wct and slippery. When he had reached<br >the house， he climbed stcep wooden stairs and stood on the<br >porch. " Ho， Yukio."<br > "Come in， Jebu-san."<br > Yukio， seated cross-legged before a low table， was wearing<br >a violet robe with a yellow butterfly pattern. The robe looked<br > strange to Jebu: hc had grown so used to seeing Yukio in<br > Chinese and Mongol garmcnts. Yukio had brush， ink and<br > paper before him， and when Jebu cntered and seated himself，<br > Yukio handed him a scroll.<br >3<br >I<br >)<br ><br >