Tomotada rode all through that day. As he approached the mountains, the sky grew black. Lightning flashed, a cold wind blew, and a heavy rain was soon pelting down. Tomotada rode on, urging his horse forward along the slippery trails. Night was fast approaching. A fall on those mountain passes could easily mean death. Up ahead Tomotada saw a gleam of light. It vanished, then shone again. Heading toward it, he came to a small hut. Near the hut, by the banks of a stream, stood three willow trees. Two of the willows were old, heavy-limbed, and grew close together. The third willow was young, graceful, and slender. Willow branches tossed by the wind had hidden and then revealed the light shining through a crack in the hut’s shuttered window.