{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_41437/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_41437","id":"gutenberg_41437","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41437","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Folklore -- Japan"],"text":"WARRIORS OF OLD\n\nJAPAN\n\nAND OTHER\n\nSTORIES\n\nBY\n\nYEI THEODORA OZAKI\n\n\nAUTHOR OF THE JAPANESE FAIRY BOOK\n\nILLUSTRATED\n\nBY SHUSUI OKAKURA\n\nAND OTHER JAPANESE ARTISTS\n\n\nHOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY\n\nBOSTON AND NEW YORK\n\n1909\n\n\n[Illustration: RUSHED UPON THE MONSTER AND QUICKLY DESPATCHED HIM]\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nThe kind reception given to \"The Japanese Fairy Book\" has encouraged me\nto venture on a second volume of stories from Japan. I have invented\nnone of these stories. They are taken from many different sources, and\nin clothing them with an English dress my work has been that of adapter\nrather than translator. In picturesqueness of conception Japanese\nstories yield the palm to none. And they are rich in quaint expressions\nand dainty conceits. But they are apt to be written in a style almost\ntoo bald. This defect the professional story-teller remedies by\ncolouring his story as he tells it. In the same way I have tried to\nbrighten the rather bare structure of a story, where it seemed to need\nsuch treatment; with touches of local colour in order to give emphasis\nto the narrative, and at the same time make the story more attractive to\nthe foreign reader. Whether I have succeeded or not, the reader must\njudge for himself. I shall be satisfied if in some small measure I have\nbeen able to do for Japanese folk-lore what Andrew Lang has done for\nfolk-lore in general, and if the tales in their English dress are found\nto retain the essential features of Japanese stories.\n\nMiss Fusa Okamoto and Mr. Taketaro Matsuda, my brother, Nobumori Ozaki,\nand one or two friends have given me help in translation.\n\nFor the introductory note I am indebted to Mr. J.H. Gubbins, C.M.G., of\nthe British Embassy, Tokyo.\n\nMost of the illustrations have been drawn by Mr. Shusui Okakura, of the\nPeers' College, to whose painstaking and patient collaboration grateful\nacknowledgment is due. A few of the pictures were drawn by Mr. Tsutsui,\nof the \"Jiji Shimbun,\" and some of the historical pictures by Mr. Kokuho\nUtagawa and Mr. Tosen Toda.\n\nYei Theodora Ozaki.\n\n\n\n     CONTENTS\n\n\n     Introductory Note\n\n     Madame Yukio Ozaki\n\n     I. Hachiro Tametomo, the Archer\n     II. Gen Sanmi Yorimasa, the Knight\n     III. The Story of Yoshitsune\n     IV. The Story of Benkei\n     V. The Goblin of Oyeyama\n     VI. Kidomaru the Robber, Raiko the Brave, and the Goblin Spider\n     VII. The Story of the Pots of Plum, Cherry, and Pine\n     VIII. Shiragiku, or White Chrysanthemum\n     IX. The Princess of the Bowl\n     X. The Story of Lazy Taro\n\n\n\n     ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n     RUSHED UPON THE MONSTER AND QUICKLY DESPATCHED HIM (Frontispiece)\n     TAMETOMO BEGAN TO RISE IN THE AIR\n     YORIMASA COULD NOT TELL WHICH WAS THE LADY AYAME\n     COULD OVERCOME TEN OR TWENTY SMALL TENGU IN THE TWINKLING OF AN EYE\n     THE PHANTOM HOST DREW NEARER TO THE BOAT\n     DIED STANDING WITH HIS FACE TO THE ENEMY\n     THE HEAD FLEW UP INTO THE AIR\n     THEY ENTERED THE CAVE AND FOUND A MONSTER SPIDER\n     SHIRAGIKU WAS ABOUT TO DASH DOWN INTO THE RIVER\n     SAISHO AND THE BOWL-WEARER WERE AT LAST MARRIED\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY NOTE\n\n\nThose who three years ago welcomed the appearance of \"The Japanese Fairy\nBook\" will be grateful to Madame Ozaki for the new treat afforded in the\npresent volume. \"The Japanese Fairy Book\" appealed alike to the child,\nin or out of the nursery, to the student of folk-lore, and to the lover\nof things Japanese. To all of these the stories here told will come as\nold friends with new faces.\n\nIn a country whose people are born story-tellers, where story-telling\nlong since rose to the dignity of a profession, and the story-teller is\nsure of an appreciative audience, whether at a village fair or in a city\ntheatre, the authoress had not to go far afield in search of her\nmaterials. But the range of this class of literature is wide, embracing\nas it does all that goes to make folk-lore, legendary history, fairy\ntales, and myths.\n\nFrom all these sources the present stories are drawn, and in each case\nthe selection is justified and the story loses nothing in the telling.\nThe simple directness of narrative peculiar to Japanese tales is not\nlost in the English setting, and the little glimpses we are given into\nJapanese verse may tempt the reader to do like Oliver Twist and \"ask for\nmore.\"\n\nJ.H. Gubbins.\n\nTokyo, May, 1909.\n\n\n\n\nMADAME YUKIO OZAKI\n\nA BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, BY MRS. HUGH FRASER\n\n\nIn the attempt to describe a character it is wise to begin, if possible,\nwith its distinguishing attribute, the one which will leave its mark on\nthe time, after the popularity of definite achievements may have passed\naway. So I will say, before going any further into the subject of this\nsketch, that if I were asked to single out the person who, to-day, most\ntruly apprehends the points of contact and divergence in the thought of\nEast and West, I would name the gentle dark-eyed lady who is the light\nof an ancient house in the loveliest part of Tokyo, a spot where, as she\nsits under the great pines of her garden, she can hear the long Pacific\nrollers breaking on the white beaches of Japan and listen to the wind as\nit murmurs its haunting songs of other homes in distant lands where she\nis known and loved. For though Yei Theodora Ozaki is a daughter of the\nEast in heart and soul and parentage, one to whom all the fine ways and\nthoughts of it come by nature, she is also a child of the West in\ntraining, in culture, in the intellectual justice which enables her to\ndiscern the greatnesses and smile indulgently at the littlenesses of\nboth.\n\nHer father, Baron Saburo Ozaki, the descendant of a Kyoto samurai\nfamily, a member of the House of Peers, and a Privy Councillor, was one\nof the first Japanese who went to England to study its language and\ninstitutions. While there, he made the acquaintance of Miss Bathia\nCatherine Morrison, and shortly afterwards she became his wife. This\nlady was the daughter of William Morrison, Esq., a profound scholar and\nlinguist, who would have been more famous had not his attainments, great\nas they were, been overshadowed by those of his brother, the Rev.\nAlexander Morrison, whose translations of the works of German\nphilosophers and historians placed much valuable material at the\ndisposal of English readers.\n\nWilliam Morrison's name, however, was known and loved in Japan many\nyears before his little granddaughter Yei (the Illustrious Flower Petal)\nwas born, for he was the instructor of most of the Japanese great men\nwho went to England to learn the ways and speech of modern\nenlightenment. Prince Mori, Marquis Inouye, Baron Suyematsu, and many\nothers who afterwards rose to eminence, were among his pupils, and when\nBaron Ozaki became his son-in-law it would have been natural to\nconclude that Miss Morrison was fairly familiar already with many sides\nof the complex Japanese character. But the union was not a happy one;\nand when, several years later, I made her acquaintance, I thought I\ncould divine the reason. She was a charming and intelligent woman, but\nshe was English to the backbone, and it was impossible for her to\nappreciate or sympathize with anything that was not British. And Saburo\nOzaki was as fundamentally Japanese.\n\nFive years after their marriage they separated, by mutual consent; three\nlittle girls, of whom Yei Theodora was the second, remained in England\nwith their mother and received a very thorough English education. Mr.\nMorrison took great interest in O Yei and brought her many books, which\nshe devoured greedily, having inherited all his love of literature and\nlearning. I have often heard her say that whatever ability she possesses\nin that direction is due to her English grandfather.\n\nShe was just sixteen when Baron Ozaki insisted upon her coming out to\nlive with him in Japan, and she gladly complied with his wishes. On\nmeeting her after their long separation, he was delighted with her charm\nand grace, and pleasantly surprised to find that in appearance she was\nquite a Japanese maiden, small and slender, with dark eyes, pale\ncomplexion, and a mass of glossy black hair. Accustomed to rule as an\nautocrat over his household, he decreed that henceforth she was to be\nonly Japanese. She was quite willing to please him in this, so far as\nshe could; the pretty picturesque ways of her new home appealed to her\nartistic instinct, and the traditions and ideals of Japanese life at\nonce claimed her for their own; her mental inheritance responded to them\njoyfully. But this was not quite enough for her father. His duty, from\nhis point of view, was to arrange a suitable marriage for her as soon as\npossible; but here he met with an unexpected difficulty. The example of\nher parents' estrangement had inspired the girl with something like\nterror of the married state, and she had grown up with the resolve not\nto run the risk of contracting a like ill-assorted union. In\nconsequence, she found herself in opposition to her father, an\nimpossible situation in a Japanese family, and especially undesirable\nwhere there were younger children growing up, as in this case, for Baron\nOzaki had married again after his return to his own country. Various\nother circumstances also combined to make her decide at this time to\nbecome independent. Her knowledge of English qualified her to give\ninstruction in that language, and her superior education and well-known\nsocial position brought her many pupils in a land where teaching is\nlooked upon as the highest of all professions.\n\nIn this way many interesting friendships were formed with Japanese\ngirls, one of whom opened for her the doors of that treasure house of\nstory, the ancient lore and romance of Japan. Here the ardent sensitive\nmind was in its element. She says: \"During those early years I loved the\nheroes and heroines of my country with passionate and romantic devotion.\nThey were the companions of my solitude, royal and remote, yet near and\npotential as the white fire of girlhood's idealisms; they peopled my\nvisions with beautiful images, tender and brave and loyal. In those days\nI was often reproached with being a dreamer, but my dreams were all of\nfair and noble things. The old stories had taken possession of me: they\nwere a wonder, a joy, an exaltation, though I little imagined that I\nwould ever write them down.\"\n\nIt was during this period of her life that there came a temporary\nparting of the ways and Europe again claimed O Yei for a time. My\nhusband was the British Minister in Tokyo, and we proposed to Baron\nOzaki's daughter that she should come and live with us, acting as my\nsecretary and companion. She accepted, and became not only a dearly\nloved friend, but an invaluable assistant to me, contributing very\nmaterially to the success of my various books on Japan by her profound\nknowledge of the country and the people. When I returned to Europe she\nfollowed me, and remained with us in Italy for about two years. A part\nof this time she spent in the house of my brother, Marion Crawford,\nacting as his amanuensis, and cataloguing his great library with such\nprecision and intelligence that he remarked to me, \"Miss Ozaki is a very\nexceptional person. I had not imagined that the work could be so well\ndone.\"\n\nMy brother discerned her literary talent and first suggested to her that\nshe should write and publish the stories of old Japan which she used to\ntell in the family circle to the delight of old and young. \"You have the\ngifts of imagination and of language,\" he said to her. \"You really ought\nto lecture on those stories. You would have a great success.\"\n\nItaly was a revelation to O Yei; her love of colour and romance was\nsatisfied there, and the never-silent music of the South, the gay yet\nhaunting songs of the people, found a ready echo in her sweet voice, her\ndelicate guitar-playing. But her heart had always turned faithfully to\nher English mother, and when I went to live in London she passed some\ntime there, contributing her first stories and articles to the English\nmagazines. Then she returned to Japan, where the famous educator, Mr.\nFukuzawa, had offered her a post in his school.\n\nOf all her varied experiences this was the strangest. The slight shy\ngirl had a class of two hundred young men and boys to instruct and keep\nin order, but from the crowded classroom she returned to the eeriest and\nloneliest of dwellings. She says: \"I lived in the upper storey of an old\nBuddhist temple, really enjoying the queerness and out-of-the-worldness\nof it. Under my windows was a graveyard, where on summer nights I used\nto look for ghosts; but I had a terrible time with the cold and the\ndraughts and the rats, in winter. Sometimes I was awakened at dawn by\nthe sound of gongs and bells, and would look out of my window to see a\nfuneral procession marshalled in the courtyard.\" In her spare time she\ncontinued to write, and various articles and fairy stories of hers\nappeared in the \"Wide World,\" the \"Girls' Realm,\" and the \"Lady's\nRealm.\" At last her health broke down and she gave up her post at the\nschool and devoted herself more closely to literary work, which\nresulted, in 1903, in the publication of \"The Japanese Fairy Book,\" a\nwork which has now become a classic. At the same time she belonged to\nseveral of the societies, patriotic, educational, and charitable, by\nwhich the Japanese ladies so quietly yet so efficiently aid the cause of\ntrue progress in their country. Indeed it was in the interests of\nJapanese womanhood that she first took up her pen, resolved to dispel\nthe hopeless misconceptions which existed in regard to it in western\nminds. To use her own words: \"When I was last in England and Europe and\nfound by the questions asked me that very mistaken notions about Japan,\nand especially about its women, existed generally, I determined if\npossible to write so as to dispel these wrong conceptions. Hence my\nstories of Japanese heroines, Aoyagi and Kesa Gozen [in the 'Nineteenth\nCentury'] and Tomaye Gozen, last year ['Lady's Pictorial']. It has been\nmy hope too that the ancient tales and legends, retold in English, may\nshow to the West some of the good old ideals and sentiments for which\nthe Japanese lived and died.\"\n\nBut other than purely studious interests entered into O Yei's life; she\nhad many friends in the Court and Diplomatic circles, and they drew her\nmore and more into society, where she was always a welcome addition to\nany gathering. She saw every side of the national existence, Imperial,\nofficial, scholastic, and was equally intimate with the small but\nbrilliant foreign society. Her single state was a mystery to all except\nher closest friends; they knew that she had resolved never to marry\nuntil she met a man who should fulfil all her ideals.\n\nShe met him at last. In 1904 she made the acquaintance of Yukio Ozaki,\nthe Mayor of Tokyo. Each had long known of the other, and various\namusing complications had occurred through mistakes of the postman, who,\nowing to identity of name (there was no connection of family),\nsometimes got hopelessly confused, and delivered the Mayor's letters to\nthe young lady and the young lady's correspondence to the Mayor. From\nthe moment when the two first met, at a big dinner party, and laughed\ntogether over the postman's mistakes, the result was a foregone\nconclusion. Mr. Ozaki had already learned all that his friends could\ntell him about the intellectual, attractive girl whose independent,\nresolute spirit had in no way marred her gentle womanliness; she knew\nhim equally well by reputation--and to hear of Yukio Ozaki, in Japan, is\nto admire and respect him. Many were the parents, both wealthy and\nnoble, who after his first wife's death would gladly have had him for a\nson-in-law. His irreproachable morals and elevated character earned for\nhim during this period the title \"Nihon no Dai Ichi no O musoko San,\"\nthe \"First (best) bridegroom in all Japan.\" But he too nursed an ideal,\nand was not to be drawn into new ties until he had found it. Given two\nsuch beings, it needed but one kindly touch of Fate's wand to bring them\ntogether. The result was a marriage happy in its perfect romance and\nblest with the deep sympathy of tastes and interests which forms the\nsurest foundation for married felicity.\n\nI returned to Japan a few weeks before the wedding took place, and\ncounted myself fortunate in gaining the friendship of Yukio Ozaki. My\nfirst impressions of him could be summed up in a very few\nwords--strength, calmness, largeness of heart. The fearless glance of\nhis eyes, the noble carriage of his fine dark head, the quiet voice and\ndirect yet eloquent speech--all this was the fitting index to a\ncharacter which through many long years of public stress and strain has\nnever let even a passing shadow flit over its crystal sincerity and\nloyalty. Political corruption, temptations of personal ambition, lures\nof advancement, popular feeling, the outcries of opponents and the\napplause of adherents, all these have assailed him in vain, have fallen\nlike broken arrows from the shield of his spotless integrity. A Japanese\nwriter says of him: \"Mr. Yukio Ozaki has had a wonderful political\ncareer. He is a born orator, the most powerful debater, and the ablest\nwriter, in Japan; a staunch fighter for the cause of liberty and the\ninterests of the people; one of the political magnates, and a potent\nfactor in the introduction of the Meiji civilization; a man who is above\nevery form of political corruption; once the Minister for Education, and\nnow the highly renowned mayor of Tokyo who has never missed a single\nelection for the twenty-five Sessions of the Diet of Japan.\"\n\nMr. Ozaki is a strenuous and untiring worker. In his character of Mayor\nno detail is too small for him to go into patiently. Drainage, street\ncleaning, water supply, market regulations, everything that can conduce\nto the health and morals of the city passes under his watchful eyes,\nand Tokyo is governed marvellously well. His scrupulous\nconscientiousness leads him to take upon himself a thousand minutiae\nwhich another man would hand over to his subordinates. I shall never\nforget the searching orders that were promulgated to prepare the capital\nfor the return of the troops from Manchuria. Hundreds of thousands of\nmen, war-worn and ragged, with all their invalids, were to be arriving\nfor months together, and no one could tell what germs of disease might\ncome with them. So before the first detachment reached Shimbashi, a\nhouse-to-house visitation was made, the most thorough cleaning and\nclearing away of rubbish was insisted upon, and the entire foundations\nof the dwellings as well as out-houses and gateways were copiously\nsprinkled with chloride of lime. Tokyo sneezed, Tokyo wept, but Tokyo\nhad no epidemics.\n\nBesides all his responsibilities as Mayor, a post which he has filled\nfor seven years, Mr. Ozaki has great political duties to occupy his\ntime. He has steadily refused to attach himself to any party in\nparticular, and, though he has many supporters in the Diet, is an\nabsolutely independent statesman, judging all measures from his only\nstandpoints--right and wrong, and the best interests of the country.\nThis uncompromising attitude has made many enemies for him, but even\nthey admire and respect him, knowing that he is a man who has said to\nevil, \"Stand thou on that side, for on this am I.\"[1]\n\nThere is another side to his character, the love of all that is\nbeautiful and inspiring. No one who saw the \"Triumphal Return\" of\nAdmiral Togo can forget the splendid scene of that imposing ceremony,\nattended by half a million people and so deftly organized that all could\nsee the hero and the man who welcomed him in the country's name. The\nwelcome came from the nation's heart and found adequate expression in\nYukio Ozaki's magnificent address, delivered in the voice whose clear\ntones had ever sounded in the cause of true patriotism. The thrill of\ndeepest feeling was in them that day, and I, who stood near the speaker,\nsaw that his hand trembled and his eyes were suffused with emotion as he\nwelcomed the beloved old sailor back, in glory, to the country he had\nsaved.\n\nOne more superb pageant--one where Yukio Ozaki and his bride were host\nand hostess--returns to my memory, the f\u00eate given to Prince Arthur of\nConnaught in 1906. This was the largest social reunion that has ever\ntaken place in the East, and most regally was the illustrious visitor\nentertained. In the beautifully wooded park a banqueting pavilion had\nbeen erected in the purest style of ancient Japanese architecture,\nseverely harmonious in outline and detail. The interior contained,\namong other decorations, a great collection of rare Japanese flowers,\nshrubs, and dwarf trees--pines and maples hundreds of years old, and,\nfrom hoary trunk to new-born feathery branch tip, perfect miniatures of\ntheir spreading, towering brethren of the forest. The crowning feature\nof the day was the Daimyo's procession, a mile long, which defiled\nbefore our eyes across the great lawns in the open air. For this the\nlast survivors of the feudal epoch had been sought out and brought in\nfrom every part of Japan, old _samurai_ who had accompanied their\nimperious masters in many a famous progress and had cut down all and any\nwho had the temerity to cross their path. In joyful arrogance they came\nto show a degenerate world the martial splendours of their younger days,\nand the sight was enough to make one overlook the wrongs and dangers of\nthe dead time and only regret that so much colour and fire had to be\nswept away to make room for the nation's new life.\n\nFor things like these all art lovers are grateful to Yukio Ozaki, but\nhis two or three intimate friends have more exquisite moments to thank\nhim for. \"Let me take you to my favourite garden,\" he said one day when\nI was with him and his wife, \"the Garden of the Seven Flowers of\nAutumn.\"\n\nThe sun was setting as we drove for miles beside the river-bank; leaving\nthe city far behind, we came, through leafy lanes, to a half-hidden\ngate through which we passed into a dreamland of misty beauty, all\nshadowy and subdued in the late October twilight. Great pale moonflowers\nswung, like scarce-lit lamps, from tree and trellis; feathery autumn\ngrasses waved their plumes below. The dark velvety paths led to dim\nmonuments on whose grey stones we could feel rather than read the\ndeep-cut characters of classic poems. All was imbued with the tender\nmelancholy which brings repose, not pain; and even now, in hours of\nstress and weariness, my memory turns to the starlit peace that reigns\no' nights in the spirit-haunted Garden of the Seven Flowers of Autumn.\n\nThings like these mean more to Yukio Ozaki and his wife than all the\nsocial and public side of their existence. Both have the proud delicate\nreserves of the aristocrat of mind and soul, and escape whenever they\ncan from the publicity which has been forced upon them. It required much\npersuasion to obtain their permission for this sketch to be published.\nMadame Ozaki's last words on the subject were: \"It is true that my life\nis varied and exceedingly interesting. One night I may dine at a State\nbanquet with Cabinet Ministers and foreign Ambassadors, or with\ndistinguished visitors like Mr. and Mrs. Taft, who recently visited this\ncountry; the next will find me with a purely Japanese party at the Maple\nClub. I assist at the Court functions, the Imperial wedding receptions;\nI act as sponsor or go-between at Japanese marriage ceremonies; I see\nall the ins and outs of Japanese life. I seem to live in the heart of\ntwo distinct civilizations, those of the East and the West, but the East\nis my spirit's fatherland. My mind still turns for companionship to the\ngreat ones of the Past, the heroines of my country's history. I find\ngreater pleasure in the old classical drama of the 'No,' with its\nBuddhist teachings and ideals, its human tragedies of chivalry and of\nsorrow, than in all the sensational and spectacular modern drama. But my\ngreatest happiness is in my home life, in the companionship of my baby\ndaughter, in the few short hours that my husband can snatch from his\nwork to devote to me. If you must write about us, tell people about\nYukio--he is so good and great. I have no wish to be mentioned apart\nfrom him.\"\n\nMary Crawford Fraser.\n\nNote: Mr. Ozaki's collected works have just been published in Japan;\nthey include many essays on public and literary topics, original poems,\nand a translation into Japanese of the Life of Lord Beaconsfield.\n\nMadame Ozaki's writings include \"The Shinto Fire-Walking,\" \"The Hot\nWater Ordeal,\" \"Nikko Festival,\" \"Singing Insects of Japan,\" and many\narticles on travel and folk-lore, \"The Japanese Fairy Book,\" \"Japanese\nin Time of War,\" \"Japanese Peeresses in Tableaux,\" \"Stories of Japanese\nHeroines,\" \"Buddha's Crystal\" (in 1908), and \"Japanese Girls' Home\nAccomplishments\" (in 1909).\n\n\n[1] F.W. Myers.\n\n\n\n\nHACHIRO TAMETOMO, THE ARCHER\n\n\nLong, long ago there lived in Japan a man named Hachiro Tametomo, who\nbecame famous as the most skilful archer in the whole of the realm at\nthat time. Hachiro means \"the eighth,\" and he was so called because he\nwas the eighth son of his father, General Tameyoshi of the house of\nMinamoto. Yoshitomo, who afterwards became such a great figure in\nJapanese history, was his elder brother. Tametomo was therefore uncle to\nthe Shogun Yoritomo and the hero Yoshitsune, of whom you will soon read.\nHe belonged to an illustrious family indeed.\n\nAs a child Hachiro gave promise of being a very strong man, and as he\ngrew older this promise was more than fulfilled. He early showed a love\nof archery, and his left arm being four inches longer than his right,\nthere was no one who could bend the bow better or send the arrow farther\nthan he could. By nature Hachiro was a rough, wild boy who did not know\nwhat fear was, and he loved to challenge his elder brothers to fight. He\never a grew wilder as he grew older, till at last he acted so rudely\nand wilfully, respecting and obeying no one set over him, that even his\nown father found him unmanageable.\n\nNow it happened when Hachiro was thirteen years old that a learned man,\nnamed Fujiwara-no-Shinsei, came to the Palace of the Emperor one day to\ngive a lecture on a certain book. During the lecture he said that there\ncould not be found in the whole of Japan a warrior whose skill in\narchery could match that of Kiyomori, the chief of the Taira clan, or of\nYorimasa, the Minamoto knight. These two knights, though belonging to\ntwo different clans, were the best archers throughout the land. Now\nHachiro, when he heard these words, laughed aloud in scorn, and said, so\nthat every one might hear him, that Fujiwara-no-Shinsei was right about\nYorimasa, but to call their enemy, that coward of a Kiyomori, a clever\narcher, only showed what a foolish and ignorant man Fujiwara-no-Shinsei\nwas.\n\nThis rude speech, so contrary to the rules of Japanese courtesy, which\ncommands young people to maintain a respectful and humble silence in the\npresence of their elders, made Fujiwara very angry. When the lecture was\nfinished, he therefore sent for Tametomo and rebuked him sternly for his\nbehaviour, but the daring Tametomo, instead of being ashamed of his\nunmannerly conduct and prostrating himself in apology before the\nlearned man, would not listen to anything he had to say, and was so\nboisterous in declaring that he was right that Fujiwara gave up his task\nof correction as a hopeless one.\n\nBut the lad's father, Tameyoshi, when he heard of what had happened, was\nvery angry with his son for daring to dispute with his elder and\nsuperior, especially in the sacred precincts of the Palace. He was so\nwroth indeed that at last he refused to see him or to keep him any\nlonger under his roof, and to punish him he sent him far away from his\nhome to the island of Kiushiu.\n\nNow Tametomo, like the wilful, headstrong boy that he was, did not mind\nhis banishment at all; on the contrary, he felt like a hound let loose\nfrom the leash, and rejoiced in his liberty, even though he had incurred\nhis father's displeasure.\n\nWhen he reached the island of Kiushiu he made his way to the province of\nHigo, and finally settled down in the plain of Kumamoto. Now that\nTametomo found himself free to do just as he liked, his thirst for\nconflict became so great that he could not restrain himself. He gathered\nround him a band of fighters as wild as himself and challenged the men\nin all the neighbouring provinces to come out and match their strength\nagainst his. In twenty battles which followed this challenge Tametomo\nwas never once defeated, so great was his strength, and his cleverness\nin directing his soldiers. He was like a silkworm eating up the mulberry\ntree. Just as the silkworm devours one leaf after another, with slow but\nsure relentlessness, so Tametomo fought and fought the inhabitants of\nthe provinces round about till he had brought them all into subjection\nunder him. By the time he was eighteen years old he had made himself\nchief of a large band of outlaws, distinguished for their reckless\nbravery, and with them he had mastered the whole of Kiushiu, the western\npart of Japan. It was now that the name of Chinsei was given him on\naccount of his having conquered the West. _Chin_ means \"to put down,\"\nand _sei_ means the \"West.\"\n\nTidings travelled slowly in those days, for there were no railways or\ntelegraph wires forming a network of lightning speed communication\nacross the land, and all carrying of news was done on foot by\nmessengers; so it was a long time before the Government at the capital\nheard of the wild and lawless doings of Chinsei Hachiro Tametomo, but at\nlast his daring exploits became known, and the Government decided to\ninterfere and to put a stop to his outlawry. They sent a regiment of\nsoldiers to hunt him down and take him prisoner, but Tametomo and his\nband were not only strong and fearless, but sharp of wit, and in the\nfrequent skirmishes that took place they always came out victorious. At\nlast the soldiers gave up their task of capturing him, for they found it\nimpossible to overcome him and nothing would make Tametomo surrender. So\nthe general returned to the capital and confessed that his expedition\nhad failed. The Government now decided to arrest the outlaw's father,\nTameyoshi, and so try to bring the rebel to bay. Tameyoshi was therefore\nseized and punished for being the parent of such an incorrigible rebel.\n\nNow even the wilful Tametomo was moved and distressed when he heard of\nwhat had happened to his father, because of him. Although he was\nundisciplined by nature, and ever ready to rebel against all authority,\nyet hidden deep in his heart there was still a sense of duty to his\nfather, and on this his enemies had counted. He knew that it was\ninexcusable to let his father suffer punishment for his misdoings. As\nsoon as the bad tidings reached him, he gave up without the least\nhesitation all the land in Kiushiu, which had cost him several years of\nhard fighting to wrest from the inhabitants, and taking with him only\nten of his men, with all the speed he could make, he went up to the\ncapital.\n\nAs soon as he reached the city he sent in a document signed and sealed\nin his blood, asking pardon of the Government for all his former\noffences, and begging that his father might be released at once. He\nthen waited calmly and quietly for his sentence of punishment to be\ndeclared.\n\nNow when those in authority saw his filial piety and his good conduct at\nthis crisis, they could not find it in their hearts to treat him with\nseverity.\n\n\"Even this man who has behaved like a demon can feel so much for his\nfather,\" they exclaimed; and merely rebuking him for his lawlessness\nthey handed him over to his father, whom they had set free.\n\nAt this time civil war broke out in the land, for two brothers, sons of\nthe late ex-Emperor Toba, aspired to sit on the Imperial throne. Owing\nto the favouritism of their father the elder brother, Sutoku, was forced\nto abdicate and retire, while Go-Shirakawa, the younger brother, was put\non the throne. On his deathbed the ex-Emperor Toba (also called the\nPontiff-Emperor) had foreseen that there would be strife between the\ntwo, and left sealed instructions in case of emergency. On opening this\ndocument it was found to contain a command to all the principal generals\nto support Go-Shirakawa.\n\nHence the great chief of the Taira, Kiyomori, and Tametomo's eldest\nbrother, Yoshitomo,--indeed all the warriors of repute and\nstrength,--supported Go-Shirakawa, while such nobles as Yorinaga and\nFujiwara-no-Shinsei, who knew nothing of fighting, sided with the\nretired Emperor Sutoku. Yorinaga, it is said, could not mount his\nhorse. Indeed the only efficient soldiers on Sutoku's side were\nTameyoshi and his seven younger sons, Tametomo, the reformed rebel,\namongst them. Sutoku was told of Tametomo's strength and wonderful skill\nas an archer, and was advised to make use of him, so Tametomo was\nsummoned ere long to the ex-Emperor's presence.\n\nTametomo was now just twenty years of age; he was more than seven feet\nin height; his eyes were sharp and piercing like those of a hawk, and he\ncarried himself with great pride and noble bearing. As he entered the\nImperial Audience Hall, so strong and brave and such a fine soldier did\nhe look, that Sutoku at once felt confidence in him, and without delay\nconsulted the young knight about the impending war.\n\nThen Tametomo told the Emperor of how, when he had been banished to the\nWest by his father, he had lived the life of an outlaw for many\nyears--all that time his hand had been raised against every one, and\nevery one had fought against him. It had been his delight and pastime to\nfight all who opposed his being lord of Kiushiu. He and his band had\nalways conquered, he said, because they had always fought at night. It\nwould be a good plan, he thought, for Sutoku and his men to attack the\nPalace of Go-Shirakawa by night, to set fire to the Palace on three\nsides and to place soldiers on the fourth side to seize the new Emperor\nand his party when they tried to escape. If the ex-Emperor would follow\nhis advice, Tametomo said he felt sure that he would win the victory.\n\nYorinaga, who was attending the Council when he heard Tametomo's plan,\nshook his head in disapproval, and said that Tametomo's scheme of attack\nwas an inferior one; that in his opinion it was a coward's trick to\nattack by night; and that it was more befitting brave soldiers to fight\nby day in the ordinary way. When Tametomo saw that his advice was\noverruled and that Sutoku's Council would not follow his tactics, he\nleft the Palace.\n\nWhen he reached home he told his men of all that had passed, and added\nin his anger that Yorinaga was a conceited fellow who knew nothing of\nfighting, though he had dared to give his worthless opinion and to\ncontradict him, Tametomo, who had fought without once being beaten all\nhis life long. Thus giving vent to his disappointment, Tametomo seated\nhimself on the mats, and as his anger passed away, he added with a sigh:\n\"I only fear that Sutoku will be defeated in the coming struggle!\"\n\nHad Tametomo's tactics been followed, Japanese history would certainly\nhave been different, for Kiyomori and Yoshitomo won a victory by the\nvery plan which Tametomo had advised Sutoku to follow.\n\nThat night, without any warning, the enemy made an attack on the\nex-Emperor's Palace.\n\nThe wary Tametomo, however, expected an assault and had stationed\nhimself at the South Gate on guard. On seeing Kiyomori and his band\napproaching he exclaimed: \"You feeble worms! I'll surprise you!\" and\ntaking his bow and arrow shot a _samurai_ named Ito Roku through the\nbreast. The arrow was shot with such skill and force that it went right\nthrough the soldier's body, and coming out through his back, pierced the\nsleeve of the armour of Ito Go, his younger brother, who was riding\nclose behind him.\n\nIto Go, when he saw the precision and strength with which the arrow was\nshot, knew that they had to deal with no common foe, and in alarm\ncarried the arrow to his general, Kiyomori, to show it to him. Kiyomori\nexamined the arrow carefully and found that it was made from a strong\nbamboo of more than the usual thickness, and that the metal head was\nlike a big chisel, a formidable weapon indeed! It was so large that it\nresembled a spear more than an arrow, and even the redoubtable Kiyomori\ntrembled at the sight of it.\n\n\"This looks more like the arrow of a demon than of a man. Let us find\nanother place of assault where our enemies are weaker and where the\nleaders are not such remarkable marksmen!\" said he.\n\nKiyomori then retired from the attack on the South Gate.\n\nWhen Yoshitomo (who was now supporting Kiyomori, though later on he left\nthe Taira chief) heard of his brother Tametomo's doings, he said:\n\"Tametomo may be a daredevil and boast of his skill as an archer, but he\nwill surely not take up his bow and arrow against the person of his\nelder brother,\" and he took Kiyomori's place at the South Gate of the\nPalace which Tametomo was guarding.\n\nDrawing near the great roofed gate, Yoshitomo called aloud to Tametomo\nand said: \"Is that you, Tametomo, on guard there? What a wicked deed you\ncommit to fight against your elder brother? Now quickly open the gate\nand let me in. Tametomo! Do you hear? I am Yoshitomo! Retire there!\"\n\nTametomo laughed aloud at his elder brother's command and answered\nboldly: \"If it is wrong for me to take up arms against you, my brother,\nare you not an undutiful son to take up arms against your father?\"\n(Tameyoshi, his father, was fighting on the ex-Emperor's side.)\n\nYoshitomo had no words wherewith to answer his brother and was silent.\nTametomo, with his archer's eye, saw what a good mark his brother made\njust outside the gate, and he was greatly tempted to shoot at him even\nfor sport. But he said that though war found them fighting on opposite\nsides, yet they were brothers, born of the same mother, and that it\nwould be acting against his conscience to kill or hurt his own brother,\nfor surely he would do so if he took aim seriously! He would however for\nthe sake and love of sport continue to show Yoshitomo what a clever\nmarksman he was. Taking good aim at Yoshitomo's helmet, Tametomo raised\nhis bow and shot an arrow right into the middle of the star that topped\nit. The arrow pierced the star, came out the other side, and then cut\nthrough a wooden gate five or six inches in thickness.\n\nEven Yoshitomo was astonished at the skill which his brother displayed\nby this feat of archery. He now led his soldiers forward to the attack.\n\nBut Sutoku's army was far outnumbered by the enemy, who swept down upon\nthe Palace in overwhelming numbers, and though Tametomo fought bravely\nand with great skill, his strength and valour were of no avail against\nthe great odds which assailed him. The enemy gained ground slowly, inch\nby inch, till at last the gates were battered down, and they ruthlessly\nentered the Palace. Calamity was added to calamity, the foe set fire to\nseveral parts of the building, and great confusion ensued.\n\nThe ex-Emperor, in making a vain attempt to escape with Yorinaga, was\ncaught and taken prisoner. Seeing that for the present there was\nnothing to be done, Tametomo, with his father Tameyoshi and his other\nbrothers, all loyal to Sutoku's cause, made good their escape and fled\nto the province of Omi.\n\nTameyoshi was an old man unable to endure the hardships of a hunted\nlife, and he found that he could go no further; so he told his sons\nthat, as the Emperor had been taken prisoner, and as there was no hope\nof raising Sutoku's flag again, at any rate for the present, it would be\nwiser for them all to return to the capital and surrender themselves to\nthe conquerors--the Taira. They all agreed to this proposal except\nTametomo, so Tameyoshi, the aged general, and the rest of his sons went\nback to Kyoto.\n\nNow Tametomo was left behind, alone in his brave resolution to fight\nanother battle for the ex-Emperor Sutoku. As soon as he had parted, sad\nand determined, from his father and brothers, he made his way towards\nthe Eastern provinces. But unfortunately, as he was journeying, the\nwound he had received in the recent fight became so painful that he\nstopped at some springs along the route, with the hope that the healing\nwaters, a panacea for so many ills in Japan, would heal his hurt. But\nwhile taking the cure, his enemies came upon him and made him prisoner\nand he was sent back a captive to the capital.\n\nBy the time Tametomo reached the city, his father and his brothers had\nbeen put to death, and he was soon told that he was to meet the same\ncruel fate.\n\nBut courage always arouses chivalry in the hearts of friends and foes\nalike, and it seemed to Tametomo's enemies a pity to put such a brave\nman to death. In the whole land there was no man who could match him in\nbending the bow and sending the arrow home to its mark, so it was\ndecided to spare his life at the last moment. But to prevent him from\nusing his wonderful skill against them, his enemies cut the sinews of\nboth his arms and sent him away to the island of Oshima off the coast of\nthe province of Idzuto live. Lest he should escape on the way they bound\nhim hand and foot and put him in a palanquin. He was surrounded by a\nguard of fifty men, and so big and heavy was he that twenty bearers were\nrequired to carry the palanquin.\n\nIn spite of all the misfortunes that had befallen him, he carried the\nsame courage, the same stout merry heart, the same love of wildness with\nhim, even into exile. As the twenty men carried him along in the\npalanquin, Tametomo just for fun would now and again put forth all his\nstrength. So great was his weight then that the twenty bearers would\nstagger and fall to the ground. These feats of strength alarmed the\nescort of fifty soldiers. They feared lest he should act more savagely\nand become unmanageable, past their power of control, so they treated\nhim in much the same way as they would have treated a lion or a tiger.\nThey tried not to anger him, but did their utmost to keep him in a good\nhumour during the journey.\n\nAt last they reached the province of Idzu and the seashore from whence\nthey had to cross over to the island. Here they hired a boat, and\nputting Tametomo safely on board they took him to his last destination\nand left him there.\n\nThough Tametomo was banished to this island, yet once there his enemies\nleft him free to do much as he liked. He was not treated as a common\nprisoner, but as a brave though vanquished foe. The simple islanders\nrecognized in him a great man and behaved to him accordingly and\nlistened to everything he chose to say. So he led an unmolested life,\nfree from care, except the sorrow of being an exile--but his was a\nnature which took life as it came, without worrying about what he could\nnot help.\n\nNow one day Tametomo was standing on the beach gazing out to sea,\nthinking of the many adventures he had passed through and wondering if\nfate would ever bring any change in the quiet life he was leading, when\nhe saw a sea-gull come flying over the water. At first Tametomo with his\nkeen eyes saw only a speck in the distance, but the speck grew larger\nand larger till at last the seabird appeared. Tametomo now guessed that\nthere was an island lying in the direction from which the bird came. So\nhe got into a boat and set out on a voyage of discovery.\n\nAs he expected, he came to an island, after sailing from sunrise to\nsundown. To his amazement he found the place inhabited by creatures very\ndifferent from human beings. They had dark red faces, with shocks of\nbright red hair, the locks of which hung over their foreheads and eyes.\nThey looked just like demons. A whole crowd of these alarming-looking\ncreatures were standing on the beach when Tametomo landed. When they\ncaught sight of him they talked and gesticulated wildly amongst\nthemselves and with fierce looks they rushed towards him.\n\nTametomo saw at once that they meant him harm, but he was nothing\ndaunted. He went up to a large pine tree that was growing near by, laid\nhis hands on it, and uprooting it with as much ease as if it were a\nweed, he brandished it over his head and called aloud threateningly:\n\"Come, you demons, fight if you will. I am Chinsei Hachiro Tametomo, the\nArcher of great Japan. If you will henceforth become my servants and\nlook up to me as master in all things, it is well; otherwise I will beat\nyou all to little pieces.\"\n\nWhen the demons saw Tametomo's great strength and his fearlessness they\ntrembled. They held a short parley amongst themselves, and then the\ndemon chief stepped forward, followed by all his band. They came in\nfront of Tametomo and prostrating themselves before him on the sand,\nthey one and all surrendered. Tametomo with much pride took possession\nof this island of demons and made himself monarch of all he surveyed.\nHaving subdued the demons he returned to Oshima with the news. Great was\nthe praise and merit awarded him by all the islanders.\n\nAnother day, soon after this, Tametomo was walking along the sands of\nthe seashore, when he saw coming towards him, floating nearer and nearer\non the top of the waves, a little old man. Tametomo could hardly believe\nhis sight; he had never seen anything so strange in his whole life; he\nrubbed his eyes, thinking he must be dreaming, and looked and looked\nagain. There sure enough was a tiny man, no bigger than one foot five\ninches high, sitting gracefully on a round straw mat.\n\nFilled with wonder, Tametomo walked to the edge of the sand, and as the\nlittle creature floated nearer on an incoming wave he said: \"Who are\nyou?\"\n\n\"I am the microbe of small-pox,\" answered the stranger pigmy.\n\n\"And why, may I ask, do you come to this island?\" inquired Tametomo.\n\n\"I have never been here before, so I came partly for sight-seeing and\npartly with the desire to seize hold of the inhabitants--\" answered the\nlittle creature.\n\nBefore he could finish his sentence Tametomo said angrily: \"You spirit\nof hateful pestilence! Silence, I say! I am no other than Chinsei\nHachiro Tametomo! Get out of my presence at once and take yourself far\nfrom this place, or I will make you repent the day you ever came here!\"\n\nAs Tametomo spoke, the small-pox microbe shrank and shrank from the form\nof a tiny man one foot five inches high, till only something the size of\na pea was left in the middle of the straw mat. As he dwindled and\ndwindled, the little creature said that he was sorry that he had\nintruded into the island, but he had not known that it was in Tametomo's\npossession; and he then floated away out to sea on his straw mat as\nquickly and mysteriously as he had come.\n\nThe island of Oshima has always been free from small-pox, and to this\nday the islanders ascribe the immunity they enjoy from the horrible\npestilence to Tametomo, who drove away the microbe when the hateful\ncreature would have landed there.\n\nNow that Tametomo had subdued the demons on the neighbouring island and\nhad driven away the spirit of small-pox from Oshima, he was looked upon\nas a king by the simple islanders. They rendered him every possible\nhonour and bowed their heads in the dust before him whenever he went\nabroad.\n\nAt last this state of affairs was reported to the authorities in the\ncapital. The Ministers of State decided that it was unsafe to allow this\nto go on. Such a popular and powerful hero was a menace to the\nGovernment. Tametomo, the Champion Archer, must be put down and without\ndelay. Such was the decree. A messenger was then and there despatched\nwith sealed orders to General Shigemitsu, in Idzu, to set sail with his\nmen for Oshima and subdue Tametomo.\n\nOne day Tametomo was standing on the beach and watching with pleasure,\nas he often did, the ever-whispering sea laughing and sparkling in the\nsunshine, when he saw fifty war-junks coming towards the island. The\nsoldiers standing on the fifty decks were all armed with swords and bows\nand arrows, and clad in armour from head to foot, and they were beating\ndrums and singing martial songs. Tametomo smiled when he saw this fleet\nall mustered in martial array and sent against him, a single man, for he\nknew, somehow or other, what they had come for.\n\n\"Now,\" he said proudly to himself, \"the opportunity is given me of\ntrying my archer's skill once more.\" Seizing his bow, he pulled it to\nthe shape of a full moon, and aiming it at the foremost ship, sent an\narrow right into the prow. In an instant the boat was upset and the\nsoldiers pitched into the sea.\n\nTill that moment Tametomo had feared that his arm had lost its first\ngreat strength, since his enemies had cut the sinews; but on the\ncontrary he now found that not only were his arms as strong as ever, but\nthat they had even grown longer, and that he was able to pull his bow\nwider than before. He clapped his hands with joy at the discovery and\ncalled aloud: \"This is a happy thing!\"\n\nBut now Tametomo reflected that if he fought against those who had been\nsent by the Government to take him, he would only bring trouble on the\npeople of the island, who had been so kind to him and who had sheltered\nhim in his exile; he thought of how in their simple reverence for his\ngreat strength they had almost worshipped him as a deified hero and had\nlooked up to him as their leader. No,--he would not, could not, bring\nwar and trouble and certain punishment upon these good folk, so for\ntheir sake he decided not to fight more. He looked back with the keen\nflight of thought that comes to mortals in moments of great crises, and\nhe remembered how with special mercy his life had been spared when he\nwas taken prisoner in the civil war. Since then he had enjoyed life for\nover ten years. As a strong, brave man he could not grudge losing it\nnow. He had made himself owner of the islands and the people called him\ntheir king; he felt that there was no shame or regret in dying when he\nhad reached the height of his glory. Therefore, with firm and quick\ndecision he made up his mind to die. He withdrew at once from the beach\nand retired to his house, and here he committed suicide by harikiri,\nthus saving himself from all dishonour and the islanders from all\ntrouble. He was only thirty-two years of age when he died. His death was\ngreatly regretted by all who loved him. But his glory did not die with\nhim. The people ever afterward honoured and reverenced him as a great\nhero.\n\nSuch is one story of the death of Tametomo, but legend has created\nanother, still more interesting, about him. Instead of taking his own\nlife, this tradition says that he escaped from Oshima and reached\nSanuki. Here he visited the late Emperor's tomb and offered up prayers\nfor the illustrious dead. He then, believing that his day of usefulness\nwas over, prepared to kill himself; when suddenly, as in a dream, the\nEmperor, Yorinaga, his father, and all those royalists who had fought\nand died in the civil war, or had been taken prisoners and killed by\nthe victorious parties of the new Emperor, appeared to him in the clouds\nand with a warning gesture prevented him from committing the dread deed\nof harakiri. As Tametomo gazed wonderingly at the beautiful vision, the\nbamboo curtain which hung before the ex-Emperor's palanquin lifted, and\nas the sunshine and grace of His Majesty's smile fell upon the\nawe-stricken man, the sword dropped from his hand and the wish to die\nexpired in his breast. He fell forward in humble prostration to the\nground. When Tametomo lifted his head, the vision had vanished within\nthe clouds; nothing remained to be seen of the royal array which had\nsaved him from his self-imposed death.\n\nThis wonderful visitation changed Tametomo's mind. He gave up all idea\nof seeking death, and, leaving Sanuki, journeyed to Kiushiu, and took up\nhis abode on Mount Kihara. Here he collected a band of followers, and\nwith them embarked on board a ship with the intention of reaching the\ncapital and once more striking a blow at the arrogant and usurping House\nof Taira. But misfortune followed him. He was overtaken by a storm, his\nship was wrecked, his men lost, while he only narrowly escaped with his\nlife to the island of Riukiu. Here he found the people in a state of\ngreat excitement, for a party of rebels had risen against the King, who\nwas greatly oppressed by them, Tametomo put himself at the head of the\nloyalists, rescued the King, who had been taken prisoner, subdued the\nrebels, and then restored peace to the disturbed land. For these\nmeritorious services the King adopted him as his son, bestowed upon him\nthe title of Prince, and married him to one of the royal Princesses. At\nlast one day, when Tametomo had reached a good old age, happy in the\nlife of peace and bliss with which his later years had been crowned, as\nhe was walking along one of the spacious verandahs of the Palace, his\nattendants noticed a trail of cloud coming towards their master from the\nsky. As soon as the cloud touched Tametomo, he began to rise in the air\nbefore their astonished gaze. Lost in speechless amazement, they watched\nthe hero mount higher and higher, till the clouds closed round him and\nhid him from their view. Such is the pretty legend of the earthly end of\nthe brave archer Tametomo, one of the most interesting figures in\nJapanese history, who conquered the trials and misfortunes of his youth,\nand won through to bright days of prosperity. He left a son called\nShun-Tenno, who became King of Riukiu in due time.\n\n\n[Illustration: TAMETOMO BEGAN TO RISE IN THE AIR]\n\n\n\n\nGEN SANMI YORIMASA, THE KNIGHT\n\n\nLong, long ago in Japan there lived a brave knight named Gen Sanmi\nYorimasa. Yorimasa was his own name, while _Gen_ was the great clan to\nwhich he belonged, the _Genji_, or _Minamoto_, famous in history, and\n_Sanmi_ showed that he was a knight of the Third Rank at Court, from the\nword _san_, which means \"three.\"\n\nNow Yorimasa is so celebrated a warrior that to this day his picture is\npainted on the kites which the little boys of Japan fly at the New Year,\nand if you visit the temple of the Goddess of Mercy, at Asakusa, in\nTokyo, you will see his portrait even there. And at the Boys' Festival,\non the fifth of the fifth month, when in every household where there are\nsons the favourite heroes of the land are set out in the alcove of\nhonour of the guest-room, you will surely find amidst the martial show\nof toys the figure of an archer clothed from head to foot in gay armour,\nwith a huge bow in his hand and a quiver full of arrows on his back.\nThat is Yorimasa of brave and dear memory.\n\nYorimasa was the fifth descendant of the Great Knight Raiko, who killed\nthe demons of Oyeyama about whom you will soon read. As a youth Yorimasa\nwas noted for his valour and his skill in archery, and he was soon\ncalled to the Court and given the important post of Chief Guard of the\nImperial Palace.\n\nNow, though Yorimasa was a man of ability and the greatest archer of his\ntime, and though he had done deeds of note which had brought him into\nprominence, yet for some unaccountable reason his rank at Court remained\nstationary, and he did not advance from the Fourth degree (_Shi-i_),\nwhich he had when he first entered the sacred precincts of the Palace.\nThe humour of the situation caught Yorimasa's fancy, for he was very\nquick-witted, and one day, smiling to himself, he sat down at his\nwriting-table and composed a poem lamenting his bad luck. From the\nearliest ages the Japanese have trained themselves, at the times when\ntheir feelings are stirred by some event which causes happiness or\nsorrow or disappointment, not to give way to their emotions, but to\ncontrol their minds sufficiently to compose a poem on the subject.\n\nYorimasa's poem was of thirty-one syllables,[1] and in five short lines\nhe said gracefully that \"one who has not the means of climbing upwards\nremains under the tree and passes his life in picking up beechnuts.\" Now\nin Japanese the word for beechnuts is _shi-i_, and this word also means\nthe Fourth Rank at Court. So that the couplet was a pun on his not being\npromoted. Yorimasa read the poem laughingly to some of his friends, and\nthey, admiring his wit, repeated it and talked about it till it became\nquite famous in the Palace, and at last reached the Emperor's ear. The\nsympathy of His Majesty was aroused, and soon after this Yorimasa was\nraised to the rank of the Third degree, _sanmi_, and by this title he\nhas ever afterwards been known.\n\nNow it happened that at this time the Emperor became ill and could not\nsleep at night. He complained of disturbance and a great sense of\noppression from sunset to sunrise. His courtiers, full of anxiety, sat\nup to watch the night through, to see if they could discover the cause\nof the Emperor's agitation. Some kept vigil in and round the Imperial\nchamber, others on the wide-eaved verandahs, and some in the courtyard\nof the Palace. Then the watchers on the verandahs and in the courtyard\nnoticed that as soon as the sun set a black cloud came from the eastern\nhorizon of the capital, and travelling across the city finally rested on\nthe roof of the Palace called the Purple Hall (_Shishinden_) of the\nNorth Star, where the Emperor slept. As soon as this cloud alighted on\nthe Palace, the Emperor's sleep became disturbed, as if by frightful\nnightmare. Those in attendance round the royal bed heard strange\nscratchings and noises on the roof as if some dreadful beast were there.\nThese unusual sounds and the nightmare of the Imperial sleeper lasted\ntill dawn, when it was noticed that the black cloud always withdrew.\n\nNow in the Palace there was great commotion. The Minister of the Right\nand the Minister of the Left, whose duty it was to guard the Emperor\nfrom all harm, held long and anxious consultation as to what should be\ndone. Every one in the Palace was of the opinion that the black cloud\nhid some monster which for some unknown cause haunted the Emperor. It\nwas quite certain that unless the monster were killed, and that soon,\nthe Emperor's life would be endangered, for he was growing weaker and\nthinner every day. The question was, who was brave enough to undertake\nthe task? The Palace sentinels were already scared, so it was useless to\nexpect help from them. The Ministers must seek for some brave _samurai_\nwell known for his daring and his skill as an archer and put him on\nnight-duty, charging him to kill the monster as soon as it should\nappear. The courtiers, one and all, said that Yorimasa was the man. An\nImperial messenger was therefore at once sent to the knight, with a\nletter telling him what was demanded of him.\n\nYorimasa, when he read the letter, looked very grave, for he felt the\nresponsibility of his new duty, which was different from all other work;\nfor on him now depended the recovery of the Emperor, who was visibly\ngrowing worse and living through each day in terror of the nightmare\nwhich haunted him in the darkness.\n\nYorimasa was a man of great courage and resource, and lost not a moment\nin getting ready. He strung his best bow most carefully and placed his\nquiver in two steel-headed arrows. He then put on his armour, and over\nhis armour he donned a hunting-dress, and to look more courtly he put on\na ceremonial cap instead of a helmet. He chose his favourite retainer,\nthe bravest and strongest of all his soldiers, to accompany him.\nYorimasa now set out as calmly and quietly as if he were simply going to\nhis every-day duty and nothing more. As soon as his arrival was made\nknown, he was summoned to the presence of the Ministers of the Right and\nthe Left and told of all that was happening at Court--how every night at\nthe hour of sunset a black cloud was seen to issue from the east,\napproach the Palace, and finally cover the roof of the Purple Hall of\nthe North Star where the Emperor always slept. Then the Ministers told\nthe knight of the strange noises that were heard on the roof, of the\nhowlings and scratchings which lasted all night till the dawn broke. It\nbehoved him, they said, to do his best to kill the monster, if such it\nwas, for all the guards were now thoroughly frightened, and none of them\ndared attack it in hand-to-hand fight, and none had skill enough to hit\nit in the dark, though the Emperor's own body-guard of archers had tried\nagain and again.\n\nYorimasa listened to the strange story gravely. He saw that the whole\nPalace was in a state of alarm and disturbance, but he did not lose\nheart. With the greatest self-possession he waited for the end of the\nday. As soon as the sun set, the night grew stormy; the wind blew a\nhurricane, the lightning flashed, and the thunder roared. Nothing\ndaunted by the fury of the elements, the brave archer waited and waited.\nIt must have been near midnight when Yorimasa saw a thick black cloud\nsweep down and settle on the roof of the Palace. He bade his retainer be\nready with sword and torch at any moment and to follow him closely. The\nblack cloud moved along the ridge of the grey-tiled roof till it stopped\nat the northeast corner, just over the Imperial sleeping-chamber.\n\nYorimasa cautiously followed the movements of the cloud, his man just\nbehind him. Straining his eyes, Yorimasa saw, during a vivid flash of\nlightning, the form of a large animal. Keeping his eyes on the spot\nwhere he had seen the head, while the peals of thunder crashed like\ncannon above, in the darkness which followed he caught the glare first\nof one eye and then of the other as the creature moved along.\n\n\"This must be the monster who disturbs the Emperor's rest!\" said\nYorimasa to himself.\n\nWith these words he fitted an arrow to the bow, and aiming to the left\nof where he saw the left eye glare he pulled his bow as round as the\nfull moon and let fly. Yorimasa felt that his arrow had touched flesh.\nAt the same moment there was a frightful howl and a heavy thud, and the\nwrithing in agony of some animal on the ground, which showed that\nYorimasa had done his work well.\n\nNow Yorimasa's retainer rushed upon the monster; in one hand he held a\nblazing torch, in the other a short sword with which he stabbed the\ncreature nine times and quickly despatched him. Then they both raised\ntheir voices and called to the sentinels and the courtiers to come and\nlook. A strange sight was in store for them. Never had any of them seen\nanything like the monster that lay before them. The dreadful beast was\nas large as a horse; it had the head of an ape, the body and claws of a\ntiger, the tail of a serpent, the wings of a bird, and the scales of a\ndragon. They had heard and read of such creatures in some of the old\nbooks, but had always thought that such stories were old women's\nfables, to be told and whispered by grey-haired dames round the\n_hibachi_ (fire-brazier) to their wonder-struck grandchildren, but never\nto be entertained seriously by men of sense. For a few moments they were\nall struck dumb with astonishment; they gazed silently first at the\nstrange and horrible beast before them, then at Yorimasa, the slayer of\nit. Exclamations of wonder burst from their lips. Then one and all\nturned to the brave archer and congratulated him on his wonderful feat,\nhis courage and his marksmanship. It seemed as if they would never cease\napplauding him.\n\nThe animal was flayed and its skin was carried to the Emperor, who\nordered it to be stored as a curiosity in the Imperial treasure-house.\nHis Majesty was highly pleased. He sent for Yorimasa and bestowed on him\na sword called _Shishi-Wo_, or the King of Lions. The time of the year\nwas the beginning of the fifth month; the crescent moon hung like a\nsilver bow in the twilight sky, and the cuckoo[2] was calling from the\ntrees near by; so the Minister of the Left who handed the sword to\nYorimasa improvised the first half of a stanza saying:\n\n     \"O cuckoo of wonder, even your name\n      Climbs ever upward to the Heaven!\"\n\nThen Yorimasa, on his knees with uplifted hands and bowed head,\nreceived the sword, and as he did so he completed the short poem with\nthese words:--\n\n    \"Not through thine own: but through the merit of a moon-shaped bow!\"\n\nThe Minister used the cuckoo then calling in the trees as simile of the\nbrave warrior whose fame was rising now at Court because of his brave\ndeeds, and Yorimasa modestly answered that all was due not to his skill,\nbut to his bow, which he likened to the crescent moon then reigning in\nthe sky. Both turned to the scenery of the moment for inspiration--the\nMinister in expressing his praise and the warrior in receiving it with\nbecoming humility and grace.\n\nThe Emperor also considered this a fitting occasion to give Yorimasa the\nLady Ayame (Iris) for his wife, and about this incident there is a\npretty story.\n\nThe Lady Ayame was the most lovely lady-in-waiting in the Palace, and as\ngood as she was beautiful. Not only in beauty, but in mind and heart,\nwas she superior to all the other ladies-in-waiting, and both the\nEmperor and Empress held her in high esteem. Many were the Court nobles\nwho fell in love with her, but all in vain; there was not one, however\ngreat or rich or handsome, who could make her so much as grant him even\na fleeting smile. Time after time these noble suitors wrote her letters\nand poems, telling her of their hopeless love and beseeching her to send\nthem but a single line in reply. But only her silence answered them. She\nremained obdurate to all entreaties.\n\nOne day Yorimasa, when on duty in the Palace, caught a passing glimpse\nof the Lady Ayame, and from that hour his heart knew no rest. He could\nnot forget the witching grace nor the modest beauty of her lovely face;\nsleeping or waking the vision of his lady-love was always before his\neyes, and it seemed to grow more vivid as the days went by. Time after\ntime he wrote her letters and composed poems asking her to marry him,\nbut the Lady Ayame treated Yorimasa as she treated all her other\nwooers--she vouchsafed him no reply. For three long years Yorimasa\nwaited and hoped and despaired, and waited and hoped again, content if\nonce in a way from a respectful distance he could catch a glimpse of\nher. In spite of long and cold discouragement he loved her\nperseveringly.\n\nThe Emperor had heard of the knight's constancy, and now sent for his\nfavourite lady-in-waiting, thinking this the right time to reward\nYorimasa's prowess and the Lady Ayame's merit, and to make them both\nhappy.\n\nAs soon as Ayame appeared, His Majesty said: \"Lady Ayame, is it true\nthat you have received many letters from the knight Yorimasa? Is it\nso?\"\n\nAt this the Lady Ayame blushed like a peach-blossom in the glow of dawn,\nand hesitating a moment she replied: \"May it please the Son of Heaven to\ncondescend to send for Yorimasa and ask him!\"\n\nHis Majesty then commanded her to retire, and forthwith summoned\nYorimasa to his presence.\n\nIt was the fifth of May, the Spring Festival, and Yorimasa came robed in\ngala attire. He presented himself below the dais on which the Emperor\nwas seated and prostrated himself before the throne.\n\n\"Is it true,\" and the Emperor smiled as he spoke, \"that you love the\nLady Ayame?\"\n\nYorimasa was bewildered by the suddenness of the question and knew not\nwhat to reply, for he knew it to be strictly forbidden by Court\netiquette to write love-letters to any lady-in-waiting, and he had done\nthis persistently.\n\nNow the Emperor saw Yorimasa's confusion and felt sorry for him. A\nbright thought struck His Majesty. He would please and puzzle Yorimasa\nand have some fun at his expense at the same time as well. He whispered\nan order to the chief master of ceremony.\n\nIn a short time three ladies appeared, heralded by attendants. As they\nmoved across the mats of the immense hall, Yorimasa saw that they were\nall dressed exactly alike, and that even their hair was done in the\nsame style, so that it would be impossible for any one who did not know\nthem well to distinguish one from the other.\n\nWho were they? Was the Lady Ayame one of them?\n\nLike maidens of Heaven (_tennin_) did the three noble damsels appear and\ntheir robes were beautiful to behold. So alike were they, and their\nbeauty so extraordinary, that Yorimasa compared them to plum-blossoms on\na branch seen through a window.\n\n\"The Lady Ayame is here,\" said the Emperor. \"Choose her from among three\nladies and take her.\"\n\nYorimasa bowed to the ground. He was overcome with the graciousness and\nkindness of the Emperor. But the task laid upon him he felt to be too\ndifficult. Being a military man and inferior in rank to the Court\ncircle, Yorimasa had never had an opportunity of seeing any of the Court\nladies face to face. All he had seen of the Lady Ayame was sometimes a\nglimpse of her from the courtyard, where he was stationed, as she passed\nalong the corridors of the Palace. Once at a poetical party, to which he\nhad been admitted as a great favour, he had seen her, at the further end\nof the hall, glide with trailing robes of ceremony into her place behind\nthe silken screen which always hid the women from view at such\ngatherings. That was all he had ever seen of her, so that now he could\nnot distinguish her from the rest.\n\n[Illustration: YORIMASA COULD NOT TELL WHICH WAS THE LADY AYAME.]\n\nThe Emperor was pleased at the success of his pleasantry. He saw that\nYorimasa was fairly perplexed, and that he was unable to pick out his\nlady-love from her companions.\n\n\"I am a soldier and no courtier,\" thought the knight, \"I may not presume\nto lift my eyes to a lady _above the clouds_.[3] Nor can I be sure which\nis Ayame. Were I to make a mistake and choose the wrong lady, it would\nbe a lifelong disgrace and disappointment to me!\"\n\nThe perplexity in his mind at once rose to his lips in the form of a\nshort poem, which he repeated:--\n\n\"In the rainy season when the waters overflow the banks of the lake, who\ncan gather the Iris?\"\n\nSuch is the meaning of the verse.\n\nBy the rainy season Yorimasa meant his three years of hopeless courting,\nduring which his eyes had become dim with the tears of disappointment he\nhad shed, so that he could no longer see clearly enough to discover\nwhich was the lady of his choice. In this way he excused himself for his\nseeming stupidity, and showed a modest reserve which pleased all\npresent.\n\nThe aptness and quickness of Yorimasa's verse won the Emperor's\nadmiration. The tears stood in the august eyes, for he thought of the\ngreat love wherewith Yorimasa had loved the Lady Iris, and of the sorrow\nand patience of his long wooing and waiting. His Majesty rose from his\nthrone, descended the steps of the dais, and going up to Ayame took her\nby the hand and led her forth to Yorimasa.\n\n\"This is the Lady Ayame, I give her to you!\" were the golden words of\nthe Emperor.\n\nTo Yorimasa it must have seemed too wonderful almost to be true. The\ngreat desire of his life was given him by the Emperor himself!\n\nThen Yorimasa led his beautiful lady-love away and married her, and we\nare told that they lived as happily as fish in water; and it seemed as\nif they had but one heart between them, so harmonious was their union.\nIn the Palace there was great rejoicing over the auspicious event, and\nall the courtiers praised the merit of the verse which had finally given\nAyame to Yorimasa and won the Emperor's special commendation. The happy\ncouple received the congratulations of the Emperor and Empress, of the\ncourtiers and many noble people, and wedding-presents innumerable.\nSurely at this time there was no one happier than Yorimasa in all the\nland.\n\nThere are many stories told of Yorimasa which show us that he was not\nonly a brave soldier and a man of learning and a poet, but also a man\nof wit and tact who knew how to use men as he willed.\n\nNow one day a band of discontented turbulent priests came to the Palace\nGate where Yorimasa was on guard, and demanded entrance. It must be\nexplained that in those days the Buddhist priests of Kyoto were a set of\nwild and lawless men who often brought shame to their religion by their\nwicked lives. They lived outside the city on Mount Hiei, which they made\ntheir stronghold, and, forgetting the dignity of their religion, they\ntook sides in war and in politics. They gave trouble to those in\nauthority, especially to those who did not favour them. They used the\nsmallest event as an occasion for carrying swords and bows and arrows,\nand it was their habit to go out equipped like soldiers going forth to\nwar.\n\nYorimasa saw that the priests were all well armed, and only too anxious\nto find a pretext for drawing their swords. They carried with them in\ngreat state the sacred palanquin of their temple. In this palanquin\ntheir patron god was supposed to dwell, and it was borne aloft on the\nshoulders of fifty men. With loud shoutings and a wild display of\nstrength the priests rushed the car along, now lifting it high above\ntheir heads, now staggering under its weight, as it seemed about to\ncrush them to the ground.\n\nNow Yorimasa was in no mood for fighting that day, and it seemed to him\nnot worth his while to set his men--the best fighters and archers in the\nrealm--against a handful of priests whom he could disperse in a few\nminutes; besides, these priests from Mount Hiei were troublesome fellows\nand he did not wish to earn their enmity. So laughing quietly to himself\nhe said that he would have some fun at their expense.\n\nWhen the procession stopped opposite the gate, Yorimasa with his\ncaptains of the guard sallied forth to meet the noisy crowd, and coming\nin front of the palanquin bowed in reverence before it with slow\nceremony.\n\nThe priests, who had expected and were prepared for a very difficult\nreception, were surprised and somewhat taken aback. After some parley\namongst themselves, their spokesman advanced and asked leave to enter\nthe gate, saying they had a petition to present to the Emperor.\n\nYorimasa sent his captain forward.\n\n\"My lord bids you welcome,\" he said, \"and wishes me to say that he\nworships the same god as yourselves, and he is therefore averse to\nshooting against the _Mikoshi_ [sacred palanquin] with his bows and\narrows. Besides this, we are very few in number, so that your names will\nbe dishonoured and you will be called cowards for having chosen the\nweakest post to fight. Now the next gate is guarded by the Heike\nsoldiers, who are much stronger in numbers than we are. How would it do\nfor you to go round and fight there? You would surely gain glory in an\nencounter with them.\"\n\nThe priests were so pleased by the flattery of this speech that they did\nnot see that it was a ruse on the part of Yorimasa to get rid of them\neasily, and that he was sending them round to bother his rivals. He had\nalso appealed to their best feelings, for Japanese chivalry teaches that\nin the event of choosing between two enemies the weaker must always be\nspared.\n\nSome polite answer was made to Yorimasa, and then the priests shouldered\nthe _Mikoshi_ and departed in the same spirited and vociferous manner\nthat they had come. They went to the next gate, guarded by the Heike.\nBattle was given at once, for they were refused admittance. The priests\nwere beaten and fled for their lives to the hills.\n\nAll these stories show us that Yorimasa was a clever man in every way,\nbut in the end he was unfortunate, and for this there was no help.\n\nWhen we read the story of his ill-fated death our hearts are filled with\nsorrow for him. It is not always as one wishes in this world, and\nYorimasa did not meet with the fate his meritorious deeds and character\ndeserved.\n\nThe Heike or Taira clan were now in the ascendant (Yorimasa, it will be\nremembered, belonged to the Genji or Minamoto), and Kiyomori, their\ndespotic and unprincipled leader, was Prime Minister. All the important\nposts in the Government he gave to his sons, grandsons, and relations,\nwho under these circumstances, seeing that they owed everything to him,\ndid just as the tyrant ordered. All _samurai_ who did not belong to the\nHeike clan he treated unjustly, even throwing those he did not like into\nprison, whether they were innocent or guilty of the crimes or behaviour\ndeserving such punishment.\n\nAs a general of the rival Genji clan, Yorimasa suffered much from this\nunfair treatment. As he watched the arrogant conduct of Kiyomori and his\nson Munemori, he longed to be able to punish them and to bring\nretribution on the whole clan, and to this end he thought and worked and\nplanned.\n\nAt last the Heike became so overbearing and so powerful that their\nactions passed the bounds of all reason, and Kiyomori, on a question of\nsuccession to the throne, confined the reigning Emperor in his Palace.\n\nThis last step was too much for Yorimasa; he could endure this state of\nthings no longer, and he resolved to make a bold strike for the right.\nHe placed Prince Takakura, the son of the late Emperor, at the head of\nhis army and set out to do battle with the Heike.\n\nBut the Genji were far inferior in numbers to the Heike, and, sad to\nrelate, Yorimasa was defeated in his good and just cause. With the\nremainder of his army he fled before the enemy and took refuge in the\nTemple of Byodoin, situated on the river Uji.\n\nThe Byodoin Temple, a large edifice near Kyoto, remains to this day.\nHere Yorimasa made a last stand to afford time for Prince Takakura to\nescape. He divided his men into two parties--one division he stationed\nas a reserve force in the grounds of the temple, while the other he drew\nup in battle array along the banks of the river. In case of pursuit, to\nprevent the enemy from crossing the river, they tore up the planks which\nformed the flooring of the bridge, so that only a skeleton of posts and\ncross-beams remained. Then they rested and waited to see what would\nhappen.\n\nThe Heike soon came in sight following hard after them. First came the\ngenerals, then the soldiers, twenty-eight thousand strong. They\napproached the bridge, but stopped short when they saw what the Genji\nhad cleverly done. In a few minutes they ranged themselves along the\nbank facing the enemy.\n\nBoth armies now stood confronting each other on either side of the Uji.\nSimultaneously the order was given to fight by both the Genji and the\nHeike generals and a fierce discharge of arrows from both sides ensued.\n\nThen there rushed forth from the ranks of the Genji a huge priest,\nTajima Bo by name (in those days the Buddhist priests often took part in\nbattles); brandishing an enormous halberd he dashed out alone on the\nskeleton bridge. The Heike, thinking that he made an excellent target,\nshot a shower of arrows at him, but he was not in the least daunted.\nWhen the arrows were aimed at his head, he stooped and they passed over\nhim; when they were aimed at his legs, he jumped high in the air and\nthey flew under him; when they were aimed at his body, he swept them\naside with his halberd; and in this way he escaped free from hurt. So\nquick was he in his movements, and so marvellous was the way in which he\nbalanced himself in his progress across the bridge, that he seemed to be\nendowed with power more than human; and not only his own comrades but\nthe enemy also looked at him in breathless admiration.\n\nThen another of Yorimasa's men, also a priest, Jomyo by name, inspired\nby this example, came forth and stood up at the end of the bridge, and\nfitting his arrows to the bow, in rapid succession shot about a dozen of\nthe foe, in the twinkling of an eye.\n\nCrying out, \"Oh, this is too much trouble!\" he threw away his bow and\narrow, and walked over the bridge on another beam, sweeping aside with\nhis sword the arrows aimed at him.\n\nYet another priest, famous for his great strength, dashed out and\nfollowed after his friends across the bridge. He soon came up with\nJomyo, but as the beams of the bridge were narrow he could not pass him.\nStopping for a moment to think what he should do, he stretched out his\nhands and touched the helmet of the man just in front of him, then\nlightly and quickly jumped leap-frog over his head. The bridge was now\nsoon swarming with the Genji, who with fierce battle-cries began to\nattack the Heike, whose advance was entirely checked. For some minutes\nthe Heike were greatly put out, not knowing what to do.\n\nThen one brave youth, seeing how matters stood, and that it required\nsome one to take a dauntless lead, sprang forth in front of the Heike\nand called out: \"Now that it comes to this, there is no other way!\" and\nwith these words he dashed his horse into the river. It was the rainy\nseason, and the waters were higher and the current stronger than usual.\nBlack with mud the river ran swirling and whirling on its course.\n\nNever was there a braver sight than when the young soldier drove his\nhorse into the swollen river and made for the other side. His comrades\ncould not stand still and watch him; fired by his courage, numbers of\nthe Heike, shouting \"I also! I also!\" dashed in after him. In a few\nminutes, while the Genji looked on in surprise, three hundred men had\nfollowed the gallant young captain, stemmed and crossed the torrent, and\nlanded on the other side; and with the same dashing spirit, carrying\neverything before them, they broke through the last lines of the Genji\nand entered the Byodoin Temple, where their last stand was made. The\nGenji, with Yorimasa at their head, were now in a desperate condition.\nSeeing his father hard-pressed, Kanetsuna, Yorimasa's second son, an\nintrepid young knight, rushed into the thickest of the fight and tried\nto defend his father. A Heike captain coming up with fifteen of his men\nseized Kanetsuna, overpowered him, and cut off his head.\n\nNot one of Yorimasa's little band turned to flee. Although they knew\nthere was no hope, they fought on face to face with the foe, for\n_samurai_ traditions held it a disgrace to be even wounded in the back.\nOne famous general in ancient history issued an order to the effect that\nprizes would be awarded to those who were shot in the forehead, but\nthose who were wounded in the back should be slain.\n\nOne by one, the Genji fell, slain either by sword or arrow. Yorimasa\nreceived several wounds. Then he saw that there was no use in fighting\nmore; all was lost. Those of the Genji who were still left made a brave\nstand round their chief; while they kept the enemy at bay Yorimasa\nslipped away and hastened to Prince Takakura, in the temple, and begged\nhim to flee in safety while there was yet time.\n\nHaving seen his Imperial master safe, Yorimasa then retired to an inner\npart of the garden, and sitting under a large tree drew out his sword\nand prepared himself to commit _harakiri_, for _samurai_ honour would\nnot let him survive defeat. Calling his retainer Watanabe, who had\nescaped unhurt and who never left his master's side, Yorimasa bade him\nact as second in the rite. Then quietly taking off his armour, he\ncomposed a poem. He likened himself to a fossil tree that never knows\nthe joy of blossoming, for he had never attained his ambition (the\ndestruction of his enemies), \"and sad indeed is the end of my life,\" the\nlast line of the verse, were the last words he uttered.\n\nHe took out his short sword, and thrusting it into his side died like a\nbrave and gallant _samurai_, without a moan. Then from behind, as was\nhis duty as second, Watanabe cut off his master's head, and so that it\nshould not be discovered by the enemy and carried away as a trophy of\nwar, he tied a large stone to it, and with sorrowful reverence dropped\nit into the river and watched it sink beneath the water out of sight.\n\nIn this way died Yorimasa; those of his followers who were not killed by\nthe enemy died by their own hand, and Prince Takakura, fleeing to Nara,\nwas overtaken by the Heike and put to death on the way.\n\nYorimasa was seventy-five years of age when he died. Though, as he\nlamented in his last poem, he had not achieved his ambition in punishing\nthe Heike, yet years later his work was carried on, and the Heike were\ncompletely exterminated by Yoritomo, the great chief and mighty avenger\nof the Genji; and the name of Gen Sanmi Yorimasa lives forever in the\nhistory of his country.\n\n\n[1] All Japanese poetry is regulated and counted by syllables, not by\nlines and feet, as with us. Many words have several meanings and the\nwitty use of these punning facilities is greatly sought after.\n\n[2] The cuckoo in Japanese literature and fancy takes the same place as\nthe nightingale in England.\n\n[3] \"Above the clouds\"--a complimentary expression used for the exalted\nCourt circle.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF YOSHITSUNE\n\n\nIn old Japan more than seven hundred years ago a fierce war was raging\nbetween the two great clans, the Taira and the Minamoto, also called the\nHeike and the Genji. These two famous clans were always contesting\ntogether for political power and military supremacy, and the country was\ntorn in two with the many bitter battles that were fought. Indeed it may\nbe said that the history of Japan for many years was the history of\nthese two mighty martial families; sometimes the Minamoto and sometimes\nthe Taira gaining the victory, or being beaten, as the case might be;\nbut their swords knew no rest for a period of many years. At last a\nstrong and valiant general arose in the House of Minamoto. His name was\nYoshitomo. At this time there were two aspirants for the Imperial throne\nand civil war was raging in the capital. One Imperial candidate was\nsupported by the Taira, the other by the Minamoto. Yoshitomo, though a\nMinamoto, sided at first with the Taira against the reigning Emperor;\nbut when he saw how cruel and relentless their chief, Kiyomori, was, he\nturned against him and called all his followers to rally round the\nMinamoto standard and fight to put down the Taira.\n\nBut fate was against the gallant and doughty warrior Yoshitomo, and he\nsuffered a crushing defeat at the hands of the Taira. He and his men,\nwhile fleeing from the vigilance of their enemies, were overtaken within\nthe city gates, and ruthlessly slaughtered by Kiyomori and his soldiers.\n\nYoshitomo left behind him his beautiful young wife, Tokiwa Gozen, and\neight children, to mourn his untimely death. Five of the elder children\nwere by a first wife. The third of these became Yoritomo, the great\nfirst Shogun of Japan, while the eighth and youngest child was Ushiwaka,\nabout whom this story is written. Ushiwaka and the hero Yoshitsune were\none and the same person. Ushiwaka (Young Ox--he was so called because of\nhis wonderful strength) was his name as a boy, and Yoshitsune was the\nname he took when he became of age.\n\nAt the time of his father's death, Ushiwaka was a babe in the arms of\nhis mother, Tokiwa Gozen, but his tender age would not have saved his\nlife had he been found by his father's enemies.\n\nAfter the defeat they had inflicted on the rival clan, the Taira were\nall-powerful for a time. The Minamoto clan were in dire straits and in\ndanger of being exterminated now, for so fierce was Kiyomori's hatred\nagainst his enemies that when a Minamoto fell into his cruel hands he\nimmediately put the captive to death.\n\nRealizing the great peril of the situation, Tokiwa Gozen, the widow of\nYoshitomo, full of fear and anxiety for the safety of her little ones,\nquietly hid herself in the country, taking with her Ushiwaka and her two\nother children. So successful was Tokiwa Gozen in concealing her\nhiding-place that, though the Taira clan either killed or banished to a\nfar-away island all the elder sons, relations, and partisans of the\nMinamoto chief, they could not discover the whereabouts of the mother\nand her children, notwithstanding the strict search Kiyomori had made.\n\nDetermined to have his will, and angry at being thwarted by a woman,\nKiyomori at last hit on a plan which he felt sure would not fail to draw\nthe wife of Yoshitomo from her hiding-place. He gave orders that Sekiya,\nthe mother of the fair Tokiwa, should be seized and brought before him.\nHe told her sternly that if she would reveal her daughter's hiding-place\nshe should be well treated, but if she refused to do as she was told she\nwould be tortured and put to death. When the old lady declared that she\ndid not know where Tokiwa was, as in truth she did not, Kiyomori thrust\nher into prison and had her treated cruelly day after day.\n\nNow the reason why Kiyomori was so set on finding Tokiwa and her sons\nwas that while Yoshitomo's heirs lived he and his family could know no\nsafety, for the strongest moral law in every Japanese heart was the old\ncommand, \"A man may not live under the same heaven with the murderer of\nhis father,\" and the Japanese warrior recked nothing of life or death,\nof home or love in obeying this--as he deemed--supreme commandment.\nWomen too burned with the same zeal in avenging the wrongs of their\nfathers and husbands.\n\nTokiwa Gozen, though hiding in the country, heard of what had befallen\nher mother, and great was her sorrow and distress. She sat down on the\nmats and moaned aloud: \"It is wrong of me to let my poor innocent mother\nsuffer to save myself and my children, but if I give myself up, Kiyomori\nwill surely take my lord's sons and kill them.--What shall I do? Oh!\nwhat shall I do?\"\n\nPoor Tokiwa! Her heart was torn between her love for her mother and her\nlove for her children. Her anxiety and distraction were pitiful to see.\nFinally she decided that it was impossible for her to remain still and\nsilent under the circumstances; she could not endure the thought that\nher mother was suffering persecution while she had the power of\npreventing it, so holding the infant Ushiwaka in her bosom under her\nkimono, she took his two elder brothers (one seven and the other five\nyears of age) by the hand and started for the capital.\n\nThere were no trains in those days and all travelling by ordinary people\nhad to be done on foot. _Daimios_ and great and important personages\nwere carried in palanquins, and they only could travel in comfort and in\nstate. Tokiwa could not hope to meet with kindness or hospitality on the\nway, for she was a Minamoto, and the Taira being all-powerful it was\ndeath to any one to harbour a Minamoto fugitive. So the obstacles that\nbeset Tokiwa were great; but she was a _samurai_ woman, and she quailed\nnot at duty, however hard or stern that duty was. The greater the\ndifficulties, the higher her courage rose to meet them. At last she set\nout on her momentous and celebrated journey.\n\nIt was winter-time and snow lay on the ground, and the wind blew\npiercingly cold and the roads were bad. What Tokiwa, a delicately\nnurtured woman, suffered from cold and fatigue, from loneliness and\nfear, from anxiety for her little children, from dread lest she should\nreach the capital too late to save her old mother, who might die under\nthe cruel treatment to which she was being subjected, or be put to death\nby Kiyomori, in his wrath, or finally lest she herself should be seized\nby the Taira, and her filial plan be frustrated before she could reach\nthe capital--all this must have been greater than any words can tell.\n\nSometimes poor distressed Tokiwa sat down by the wayside to hush the\nwailing babe she carried in her bosom, or to rest the two little boys,\nwho, tired and faint and famished, clung to her robes, crying for their\nusual rice. On and on she went, soothing and consoling them as best she\ncould, till at last she reached Kyoto, weary, footsore, and almost\nheartbroken. But though she was well-nigh overcome with physical\nexhaustion, yet her purpose never flagged. She went at once to the\nenemy's camp and asked to be admitted to the presence of General\nKiyomori.\n\nWhen she was shown into the dread man's presence, she prostrated herself\nat his feet and said that she had come to give herself up and to release\nher mother.\n\n\"I am Tokiwa--the widow of Yoshitomo. I have come with my three children\nto beseech you to spare my mother's life and to set her free. My poor\nold mother has done nothing wrong. I am guilty of hiding myself and the\nlittle ones, yet I pray humbly for your august forgiveness.\"\n\nShe pleaded in such an agonizing way that Kiyomori, the Taira chieftain,\nwas struck with admiration for her filial piety, a virtue more highly\nesteemed than any other in Japan. He felt sincerely sorry for Tokiwa in\nher woe, and her beauty and her tears melted his hard heart, and he\npromised her that if she would become his wife he would spare not only\nher mother's life, but her three children also.\n\nFor the sake of saving her children's lives the sad-hearted woman\nconsented to Kiyomori's proposal. It must have been terrible to her to\nwed with her lord's enemy, the very man who had caused his death; but\nthe thought that by so doing she saved the lives of his sons, who would\none day surely arise to avenge their father's cruel death, must have\nbeen her consolation and her recompense for the sacrifice.\n\nKiyomori showed himself kinder to Tokiwa than he had ever shown himself\nto any one, for he allowed her to keep the babe Ushiwaka by her side.\nThe two elder boys he sent to a temple to be trained as acolytes under\nthe tutelage of priests.\n\nBy placing them out of the world in the seclusion of priesthood,\nKiyomori felt that he would have little to fear from them when they\nattained manhood. How terribly and bitterly he was mistaken we learn\nfrom history, for two of Yoshitomo's sons, banished though they had been\nfor years and years, arose like a rushing, mighty whirlwind from the\nobscurity of the monastery to avenge their father, and they wiped the\nTaira from off the face of the earth.\n\nTime passed by, and when the little babe Ushiwaka at last reached the\nage of seven, Kiyomori likewise took him from his mother and sent him to\nthe priests. The sorrow of Tokiwa, bereft of the last child of her\nbeloved lord Yoshitomo, can better be imagined than described. But in\nher golden captivity even Kiyomori had not been able to deprive her of\none iota of the incomparable power of motherhood, that of influencing\nthe life of her child to the end of his days. As the little fellow had\nlain in her arms night and day, as she crooned him to sleep and taught\nhim to walk, she forever whispered the name of Minamoto Yoshitomo in his\near.\n\nAt last one day her patience was rewarded and Ushiwaka lisped his\nfather's name correctly. Then Tokiwa clasped him proudly to her breast,\nand wept tears of thankfulness and joy and of sorrowing remembrance, for\nshe could never even for a day banish Yoshitomo from her mind. As\nUshiwaka grew older and could understand better what she said, Tokiwa\nwould daily whisper, \"Remember thy father, Minamoto Yoshitomo! Grow\nstrong and avenge his death, for he died at the hands of the Taira!\" And\nday by day she told him stories of his great and good father--of his\nmartial prowess in battle, and of his great strength and wonderful\nwielding of the sword, and she bade her little son remember and be like\nhis father. And the mother's words and tears, sown in long years of\npatience and bitter endurance, bore fruit beyond all she had ever hoped\nor dreamed.\n\nSo Ushiwaka was taken from his mother at the age of seven, and was sent\nto the Tokobo Monastery, at Kuramayama, to be trained as a monk.\n\nEven at that early age he showed great intelligence, read the Sacred\nBooks with avidity, and surprised the priests by his diligence and\nquickness of memory. He was naturally a very high-spirited youth, and\ncould brook no control and hated to yield to others in anything\nwhatsoever. As the years passed by and he grew older, he came to hear\nfrom his teachers and school friends of how his father Yoshitomo and his\nclan the Minamoto had been overthrown by the Taira, and this filled him\nwith such intense sorrow and bitterness that sleeping or waking he could\nnever banish the subject from his mind. As he listened daily to these\nthings the words of his mother, which she had whispered in his ear as a\nchild, now came throbbing back to his mind, and he understood their full\nmeaning for the first time. In the lonely nights he felt again her hot\ntears falling on his face, and heard her repeat as clearly as a bell in\nthe silence of the darkness: \"Remember thy father, Minamoto Yoshitomo!\nAvenge his death, for he died at the hands of the Taira!\"\n\nAt last one night the lad dreamed that his mother, beautiful and sad as\nhe remembered her in the days of his childhood, came to his bedside and\nsaid to him, while the tears streamed down her face: \"Avenge thy father,\nYoshitomo! Unless thou remember my last words, I cannot rest in my\ngrave. I am dying, Ushiwaka, remember!\"\n\nAnd Ushiwaka awoke as he cried aloud in his agony: \"I will! Honourable\nmother, I will!\" From that night his heart burned within him and the\nfire and love of clan-race stirred his soul. Continual brooding over the\nwrongs of his clan generated in his heart a fierce desire for revenge,\nand he finally resolved to abandon the priesthood, become a great\ngeneral like his father, and punish the Taira. And as his ambition was\nfired and exalted and his mind thrilled back to the days when his poor\nunhappy mother Tokiwa prayed and wept over him, daily whispering in his\near the name of his father, his will grew to purpose strong. Tokiwa had\nnot suffered in vain. From this time on, Ushiwaka bided his time every\nnight till all in the temple were fast asleep. When he heard the priests\nsnoring, and knew himself safe from observation, he would steal out from\nthe temple, and, making his way down the hillside into the valley, he\nwould draw his wooden sword and practise fencing by himself, and,\nstriking the trees and the stones imagine that they were his Taira foes.\nAs he worked in this way night after night, he felt his muscles grow\nstrong, and this practice taught him how to wield his sword with skill.\n\nOne night as usual Ushiwaka had gone out to the valley and was\ndiligently brandishing about his wooden sword. His mind fully bent upon\nhis self-taught lesson, he was marching up and down, chanting snatches\nof war-songs and striking the trees and the rocks, when suddenly a great\ncloud spread over the heavens, the rain fell, the thunder roared, and\nthe lightning flashed, and a great noise went through the valley, as if\nall the trees were being torn up by the roots and their trunks were\nsplitting.\n\nWhile Ushiwaka wondered what this could mean, a great giant over ten\nfeet in height stood before him. He had large round glaring eyes that\nglinted like metal mirrors; his nose was bright red, and it must have\nbeen about a foot long; his hands were like the claws of a bird, and to\neach there were only two fingers. The feathers of long wings at each\nside peeped from under the creature's robes, and he looked like a\ngigantic goblin. Fearful indeed was this apparition. But Ushiwaka was a\nbrave and spirited youth and the son of a soldier, and he was not to be\ndaunted by anything. Without moving a muscle of his face he gripped his\nsword more tightly and simply asked: \"Who are you, sirrah?\"\n\nThe goblin laughed aloud and said: \"I am the King of the Tengu,[1] the\nelves of the mountains, and I have made this valley my home for many a\nlong year. I have admired your perseverance in coming to this place\nnight after night for the purpose of practising fencing all by\nyourself, and I have come to meet you, with the intention of teaching\nyou all I know of the art of the sword.\"\n\nUshiwaka was delighted when he heard this, for the Tengu have\nsupernatural powers, and fortunate indeed are those whom they favour. He\nthanked the giant elf and expressed his readiness to begin at once. He\nthen whirled up his sword and began to attack the Tengu, but the elf\nshifted his position with the quickness of lightning, and taking from\nhis belt a fan made of seven feathers parried the showering blows right\nand left so cleverly that the young knight's interest became thoroughly\naroused. Every night he came out for the lesson. He never missed once,\nsummer or winter, and in this way he learned all the secrets of the art\nwhich the Tengu could teach him.\n\nThe Tengu was a great master and Ushiwaka an apt pupil. He became so\nproficient in fencing that he could overcome ten or twenty small Tengu\nin the twinkling of an eye, and he acquired extraordinary skill and\ndexterity in the use of the sword; and the Tengu also imparted to him\nthe wonderful adroitness and agility which made him so famous in\nafter-life.\n\nNow Ushiwaka was about fifteen years old, a comely youth, and tall for\nhis age. At this time there lived on Mount Hiei, just outside the\ncapital, a wild bonze named Musashi Bo Benkei, who was such a lawless\nand turbulent fellow that he had become notorious for his deeds of\nviolence. The city rang with the stories of his misdeeds, and so well\nknown had he become that people could not hear his name without fear and\ntrembling.\n\n[Illustration: COULD OVERCOME TEN OR TWENTY SMALL TENGU IN THE TWINKLING\nOF AN EYE]\n\nBenkei suddenly made up his mind that it would be good sport to steal a\nthousand swords from various knights.\n\nNo sooner did the wild idea enter his head than he began to put it into\npractice. Every night he sauntered forth to the Gojo Bridge of Kyoto,\nand when a knight or any man carrying a sword passed by, Benkei would\nsnatch the weapon from his girdle. If the owners yielded up their blades\nquietly, Benkei allowed them to pass unhurt, but if not, he would strike\nthem dead with a single blow of the huge halberd he carried. So great\nwas Benkei's strength that he always overcame his victim,--resistance\nwas useless,--and night by night one and sometimes two men met death at\nhis hands on the Gojo Bridge. In this way Benkei gained such a terrible\nreputation that everybody far and near feared to meet him, and after\ndark no one dared to pass near the bridge he was known to haunt, so\nfearful were the tales told of the dreaded robber of swords.\n\nAt last this story reached the ears of Ushiwaka, and he said to himself:\n\"What an interesting man this must be! If it is true that he is a bonze,\nhe must be a strange one indeed; but as he only robs people of their\nswords, he cannot be a common highwayman. If I could make such a strong\nman a retainer of mine, he would be of great assistance to me when I\npunish my enemies, the Taira clan. Good! To-night I will go to the Gojo\nBridge and try the mettle of this Benkei!\"\n\nUshiwaka, being a youth of great courage, had no sooner made up his mind\nto meet Benkei than he proceeded to put his plan into execution. He\nstarted out that same evening. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and\ntaking with him his favourite flute he strolled forth through the\nstreets of the sleeping city till he came to the Gojo Bridge. Then from\nthe opposite direction came a tall figure which appeared to touch the\nclouds, so gigantic was its stature. The stranger was clad in a suit of\ncoal-black armour and carried an immense halberd.\n\n\"This must be the sword-robber! He is indeed strong!\" said Ushiwaka to\nhimself, but he was not in the least daunted, and went on playing his\nflute quite calmly.\n\nPresently the armed giant halted and gazed at Ushiwaka, but evidently\nthought him a mere youth, and decided to let him go unmolested, for he\nwas about to pass him by without lifting a hand. This indifference on\nthe part of Benkei not only disappointed but angered Ushiwaka. Having\nwaited in vain for the stranger to offer violence, our hero approached\nBenkei, and, with the intention of picking a quarrel, suddenly kicked\nthe latter's halberd out of his hand.\n\nBenkei, who had first thought to spare Ushiwaka on account of his youth,\nbecame very angry when he found himself insulted by a lad to whom he had\nbeen intentionally kind. In a fury he exclaimed, \"Miserable stripling!\"\nand raising his halberd struck sideways at Ushiwaka, thinking to slice\nhim in two at the waist and to see his body fall asunder. But the young\nknight nimbly avoided the blow which would have killed him, and\nspringing back a few paces he flung his fan[2] at Benkei's head and\nuttered a loud cry of defiance. The fan struck Benkei on the forehead\nright between the eyes, making him mad with pain. In a transport of rage\nBenkei aimed a fearful blow at Ushiwaka, as if he were splitting a log\nof wood with an axe. This time Ushiwaka sprang up to the parapet of the\nbridge, clapped his hands, and laughed in derision, saying:\n\n\"Here I am! Don't you see? Here I am!\" and Benkei was again thwarted\nthus.\n\nBenkei, who had never known his strokes miss before, had now failed\ntwice in catching this nimble opponent. Frantic with chagrin and baffled\nrage, he now rushed furiously to the attack, whirling his great halberd\nround in all directions till it looked like a water-wheel in motion,\nstriking wildly and blindly at Ushiwaka. But the young knight had been\ntaught tricks innumerable by the giant Tengu of Kuramayama, and he had\nprofited so well by his lessons that the King Tengu had at last said\nthat even he could teach him nothing more, and now, as it may well be\nimagined, he was too quick for the heavy Benkei. When Benkei struck in\nfront, Ushiwaka was behind, and when Benkei aimed a blow behind,\nUshiwaka darted in front. Nimble as a monkey and swift as a swallow,\nUshiwaka avoided all the blows aimed at him, and, finding himself\noutmatched, even the redoubtable Benkei grew tired.\n\nUshiwaka saw that Benkei was played out. He kept up the game a little\nlonger and then changed his tactics. Seizing his opportunity, he knocked\nBenkei's halberd out of his hand. When the giant stooped to pick his\nweapon up, Ushiwaka ran behind him and with a quick movement tripped him\nup. There lay the big man on all fours, while Ushiwaka nimbly strode\nacross his back and pressing him down asked him how he liked this kind\nof play.\n\nAll this time Benkei had wondered at the courage of the youth in\nattacking and challenging a man so much larger than himself, but now he\nwas filled with amazement at Ushiwaka's wonderful strength and\nadroitness.\n\n\"I am indeed astonished at what you have done,\" said Benkei. \"Who in the\nworld can you be? I have fought with many men on this bridge, but you\nare the first of my antagonists who has displayed such strength. Are you\na god or a _tengu_? You certainly cannot be an ordinary human being!\"\n\nUshiwaka laughed and said: \"Are you afraid for the first time, then?\"\n\n\"I am,\" answered Benkei.\n\n\"Will you from henceforth be my retainer?\" demanded Ushiwaka.\n\n\"I will in very truth be your retainer, but may I know who you are?\"\nasked Benkei meekly.\n\nUshiwaka now felt sure that Benkei was in earnest. He therefore allowed\nhim to get up from the ground, and then said: \"I have nothing to hide\nfrom you. I am the youngest son of Minamoto Yoshitomo and my name is\nUshiwaka.\"\n\nBenkei started with surprise when he heard these words and said: \"What\nis this I hear? Are you in truth a son of the Lord Yoshitomo of the\nMinamoto clan? That is the reason I felt from the first moment of our\nencounter that your deeds were not those of a common person. No wonder\nthat I thought this! I am only too happy to become the retainer of such\na distinguished and spirited young knight. I will follow you as my lord\nand master from this very moment, if you will allow me. I can wish for\nno greater honour.\"\n\nSo there and then, on the Gojo Bridge in the silver moonlight, the bonze\nBenkei vowed to be the true and faithful vassal of the young knight\nUshiwaka and to serve him loyally till death, and thus was the compact\nbetween lord and vassal made. From that time on, Benkei gave up his wild\nand lawless ways and devoted his life to the service of Ushiwaka, who\nwas highly pleased at having won such a strong liegeman to his side.\n\nAlthough Ushiwaka had now secured Benkei, it was impossible for only two\nmen, however strong, to think of fighting the Taira clan, so they both\ndecided that the cherished plan must wait till the Minamoto were\nstronger. While thus waiting they heard a report to the effect that a\ndescendant of Tawara Toda Hidesato[3] named Hidehira was now a famous\ngeneral in Kaiwai of the Ashu Province, and that he was so powerful that\nno one dared oppose him. Hearing this, Ushiwaka thought that it would be\na good plan to pay the general a visit and try to interest him, if\npossible, in the fortunes of the House of Minamoto. He consulted with\nBenkei, who encouraged the young knight in his scheme of enlisting the\nGeneral Hidehira as a partisan, and the two therefore left Kyoto\nsecretly and journeyed as quickly as possible to Oshu on this errand.\n\nOn the way there, Ushiwaka and Benkei came to the Temple of Atsuta, and\nas they considered it important that the young knight should look older\nnow, Ushiwaka performed the ceremony of Gembuku at the shrine. This was\na rite performed in olden times when youths reached the age of manhood,\nThey then had to shave off the front part of their hair and to change\ntheir names as a sign that they had left childhood behind. Ushiwaka now\ntook the name of Yoshitsune. As he was the eighth son, it would have\nbeen more correct for him to have assumed the name of Hachiro, but as\nhis uncle Tametomo the Archer, of whom you have already read, was named\nHachiro, he purposely did not take this name. From this time forth our\nhero is known as Yoshitsune, and this name he has glorified forever by\nhis wonderful bravery and many heroic exploits. In Japanese history he\nis the knight without fear and without reproach, the darling of the\npeople, to them almost an incarnation of Hachiman, the popular God of\nWar. And as for Benkei, never can you find in all history a vassal who\nwas more true or loyal to his master than Benkei. He was Yoshitsune's\nright hand in everything, and his strength and wisdom carried them\nsuccessfully through many a dire emergency.\n\nFrom Kyoto to Oshu is a long journey of about three hundred miles, but\nat length Yoshitsune (as we must now call him) and Benkei reached their\ndestination and craved the General Hidehira's assistance. They found\nthat Hidehira was a warm adherent of the Minamoto cause, and under the\nlate Lord Yoshitomo he and his family had enjoyed great favour. When the\ngeneral learned, therefore, that Yoshitsune was the son of the\nillustrious Minamoto chief, his joy knew no bounds, and he made\nYoshitsune and Benkei heartily welcome and treated them both as guests\nof honour and importance.\n\nJust at this time Yoshitsune's eldest brother, Yoritomo, who had been\nbanished to an island in Idzu, collected a great army and raised his\nstandard against the Taira. When the news about Yoritomo reached\nYoshitsune, he rejoiced, for he felt that the hour had at last come when\nthe Minamoto would be revenged on the Taira for all the wrongs they had\nsuffered at the hands of the latter.\n\nWith the help of Hidehira and the faithful Benkei, he collected a small\narmy of warriors and at once marched over to his brother's camp in Idzu.\nHe sent a messenger ahead to inform Yoritomo that his youngest brother,\nnow named Yoshitsune, was coming to aid him in his fight against the\nTaira.\n\nYoritomo was exceedingly glad at this unexpected good news, for all that\nhelped to swell his forces now brought nearer the day when he would be\nable to strike his long-planned blow at the power of the hated Taira.\nAs soon as Yoshitsune reached Idzu, Yoritomo arranged for an immediate\nmeeting. Although the two men were brothers, it must be remembered that\ntheir father had been killed, and the family utterly scattered, when\nthey were mere children, Yoshitsune being at that time but an infant in\nhis mother's arms. As this was therefore the first time they had met\nYoritomo knew nothing of his young brother's character.\n\nOne of Yoshitsune's elder brothers had come with him, and Yoritomo being\na shrewd general wished to test them both to see of what mettle they\nwere made. He ordered his retainers to bring a brass basin full of\nboiling water. When it was brought, Yoritomo ordered Noriyori, the elder\nof the two, to carry it to him first. Now brass being a good conductor\nof heat, the basin was very hot and Noriyori stupidly let it fall.\nYoritomo ordered it to be filled again and bade Yoshitsune bring it to\nhim. Without moving a muscle of his handsome face Yoshitsune took hold\nof the almost unbearably hot vessel and carried it with due ceremony\nslowly across the room. This exhibition of nerve and endurance filled\nYoritomo with admiration and he was favourably struck with Yoshitsune's\ncharacter. As for Noriyori, who had been unable to hold a hot basin for\na few moments, he had no use for him at all, except as a common soldier.\n\nYoritomo begged Yoshitsune to become his right-hand man and zealously\nto espouse his cause. Yoshitsune declared that this had been his\nlifelong ambition ever since he could remember,--as they both were sons\nof the same father, so was their cause and destiny one. Yoritomo made\nYoshitsune a general of part of his army and ordered him in the name of\nhis father Yoshitomo to chastise the Taira.\n\nDelighted beyond all words at the wonderfully auspicious turn events\nwere taking, Yoshitsune hastened his preparations for the march. The\nlonged-for hour had come to which through his whole childhood and youth\nhe had looked forward, and for which his whole being had thirsted for\nmany years. He could now fulfil the last words of his unhappy mother,\nand punish the Taira for all the evil they had wrought against the\nMinamoto. All the wild restlessness of his youth, which had driven him\nforth to wield his wooden sword against the rocks in the Kuramayama\nValley and to try his strength against Benkei on the Gojo Bridge, now\nfound vent in action most dear to a born warrior's heart. With several\nthousands of troops under him, Yoshitsune marched up to Kyoto and waged\nwar against the Taira, and defeated them in a series of brilliant\nengagements.\n\nThe stricken Taira multitudes fled before the avenger like autumn leaves\nbefore the blast, and Yoshitsune pursued them to the sea. At Dan-no-Ura\nthe Taira made a last stand, but all in vain. Their lion leader,\nKiyomori, was dead, and there was no great chieftain to rally them in\nthe disordered retreat that now ensued. Yoshitsune came sweeping down\nupon them, and they and their fleet and their infant Emperor likewise,\nwith their women and children, sank beneath the waves. Only a scattered\nfew lived to tell the tale of the terrible destruction that overtook\nthem on the sea.\n\nThus did Yoshitsune become a great warrior and general. Thus did he\nfulfil the ambitions of his youth and avenge his father Yoshitomo's\ndeath. He was without a rival in the whole country for his marvellous\nbravery and successive victories. He was adored by the people as their\nmost popular hero and darling, and throughout the length and breadth of\nthe land his praise was sung by every one.\n\nEven to this day there is no one in Japan who has not heard the name of\nYoshitsune. The next story, \"The Story of Benkei,\" will tell you more of\nYoshitsune, for the two lives are linked together in the fame and glory\nof noble deeds done, of dangers passed, of troubles and reverses borne,\nand of honours earned and joy and victory shared together--to be told\nand remembered forever.\n\n\n[1] The Tengu are strange creatures with very long noses; sometimes they\nhave the head of a hawk and the body of a man.\n\n[2] The fighter's fan was always made of metal and was often used as a\nweapon.\n\n[3] See in the story of \"My Lord Bag of Rice,\" _The Japanese Fairy Book_\n(Constable, London).\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF BENKEI\n\nSEQUEL TO THE STORY OF YOSHITSUNE\n\n\nThose who have read the story of the great warrior Yoshitsune will\ncertainly remember that his retainer Benkei was a gigantic bonze as\nremarkable for his physical strength as he was for his original\ncharacter. In the story of Yoshitsune very little was said about Benkei;\nyou may therefore like to hear something more about the famous man who\nis so favourite a hero with Japanese children and so greatly respected\nin Japan for his faithfulness to his master.\n\nBenkei was the son of a Buddhist priest named Bensho, High Steward of\nthe Temple of Gongen at Kumano, a famous shrine from ancient times, and\nhis mother was the daughter of a high Court official of the second rank.\n\nBenkei was no ordinary mortal. Most children come into the world within\nten months, but Benkei kept his mother waiting one year and six months\nfor him; and when he was born he already had teeth and a luxuriant\ngrowth of hair, and was so strong and big that he could walk from the\nfirst as well as most children of two or three years of age.\n\nSeeing how extraordinarily big and strong he was, the family were lost\nin amazement; but their wonder quickly changed to dismay, for the mother\ndied soon after giving birth to her son. The father, Bensho, was very\nangry at this, and took an aversion to the child who had brought, he\nsaid, so great a misfortune upon him. He even wished to abandon the boy\naltogether, believing that, as Benkei's birth had cost his mother's\nlife, he would in after years only prove a curse to the family.\n\nNow the boy's aunt (who was married to a man named Yama-no-i), hearing\nthis, pitied her little nephew Benkei, and going to her brother said:\n\"If you are going to treat the child so cruelly as to cast him away,\nplease give him to me. I have no children and will bring him up as my\nown child. He is not responsible for his mother's death. It is fate, and\nthere is no help for it!\"\n\nBensho consented to her taking the child, saying that he did not care\nwhat happened to him so long as he was kept out of his sight, for he\ncould no longer bear to see him. So Benkei was adopted by his aunt, who\ntook him away to the capital of Kyoto.\n\nThe child rewarded her care and grew to be a fine boy beyond all\nexpectation. He was exceedingly strong and healthy; at five or six\nyears of age he was equal in size and strength to boys of ten or twelve,\nand gave promise of unusual intelligence and cleverness.\n\nUnfortunately his face was as fierce as that of a demon and he looked so\ntruly savage and ugly that he gradually earned for himself the nickname\nof Oni-Waka, or Demon Youth.\n\nIn a few years his uncle thought that it was time to send the boy to\nschool, and he accordingly sent Benkei to the monastery of Eizan and\nplaced him under the tutorship of the famous priest Kwankei. In Japan as\nin England in those times all learning was in the hands of the priests,\nand the temples were the only schools.\n\nWhen Benkei arrived at Kwankei's temple he was taught the reading and\nwriting of Chinese characters, and as he was at first docile and\ndiligent, and obedient to all set over him, he made rapid progress, and\nnot only satisfied but pleased his teacher, who commended his industry;\nbut after a time he chafed at the restraint of his new surroundings and\nbegan to give trouble. Not content with being unruly himself, he would\nlead the other novices away from their studies into the mountains and\nplay all kinds of rough games with them, and, of course, being by nature\nmuch stronger and bigger than any of them, none of his companions could\nstand against him. It therefore happened that in every contest he\ninvariably gained the victory, and this elated him so much that he\nthought of nothing but his sports and his triumphs, and, neglecting his\nlessons entirely, practised athletic games day after day, quite\nforgetting everything else.\n\nOni-Waka's teacher, Kwankei, hearing about the youth's wild doings, and\nconsidering them as unseemly, sent for him and told him that such\nbehaviour not only grieved his guardians but brought disgrace upon the\nholy temple; but his rebuke fell upon deaf ears and did no good at all.\nWhile he was being scolded, Benkei listened respectfully enough; but as\nsoon as the reverend teacher turned his back he would forthwith be as\nwild, if not wilder, than ever. His conduct grew worse and worse, till\nat last, losing all patience, the master priest forbade him to go out of\nthe house, and then enforced his order by shutting him up in a\nmonastery.\n\nThis punishment Oni-Waka deeply resented, and one night, eluding the\nvigilance of his gaolers, he stole out quietly, and picking up a great\nlog of wood began to destroy everything he could. First he smashed the\ngateway; then the fences all round the temple; then he broke the\nshutters and the sliding screens inside; indeed everything he could\nreach, he wrecked. The bonzes, roused from their slumbers by the\nunexpected noise, which sounded as if a troop of robbers were at work,\nwere all so frightened that they could do nothing to stop the whirlwind\nof destruction. When Oni-Waka had done all the mischief he could he felt\nthat, after this last mad prank, the Temple of Eizan was no place for\nhim, so he fled from the spot forever. He was now just seventeen years\nof age, and he called himself Musashi Bo Benkei.\n\nOni-Waka showed a sense of humour when he called himself Musashi Bo\nBenkei. In olden times there lived in Eizan a man named Musashi, who was\nturbulent and wild in his youth, and yet became a famous bonze and lived\nuntil the ripe age of sixty-one. Oni-Waka, having heard about this\nfamous man, made up his mind to be like him, and therefore called\nhimself Musashi Bo, or Musashi the Bonze. The first syllable--\"Ben\"--of\n_Ben_kei was taken from the first character of his father's name\n(Bensho), and the second--\"kei\"--was the last syllable of his teacher's\nname (Kwankei). The name Benkei was therefore a combination of the names\nof his father and teacher.\n\nAshamed to return home to his uncle and aunt after his behaviour at the\nmonastery, Benkei made up his mind to travel. This he did much after the\nfashion of German apprentices at about the same period in Europe.\nLeaving Kyoto, he came to Osaka; from Osaka he went to the province of\nAwa in the island of Shikoku; he then travelled all through that\nisland, and thence wandered back to the mainland, where in the province\nof Harima he came at last to a monastery called Shosa. This monastery\nwas as large as that of Eizan, and Benkei thought that he would like to\nstay there for a time as a student. With the consent of the abbot,\nBenkei was enrolled as an acolyte of this temple.\n\nAmong the numerous novices in the temple there was one named Kaien, who\nwas nearly as fond of mischief as Benkei himself, and he was known in\nthe neighbourhood for a troublesome fellow, no one young or old being\nsafe from his foolish pranks. One day soon after Benkei's arrival, Kaien\nfound the newcomer taking a nap, so for fun he wrote on Benkei's cheek\nthe Chinese character for _geta_, or \"clog.\"\n\nWhen Benkei woke up and went into the courtyard he noticed that\neverybody he came near seemed to be laughing at him, though nobody would\nsay why.\n\nThinking that there must be something strange in his appearance he\nglanced into a bowl of water and at once discovered the cause of the\nmerriment. Angry at the trick played on him, he seized a thick stick and\nrushing into the midst of his fellow novices shouted: \"You rogues! I\nsuppose you thought that you were doing something clever when you\nscribbled on my face. Now just come here, one by one, and kneel down and\nbeg my pardon. If you do not you will soon be sorry for yourselves.\"\n\nBenkei looked so angry and spoke so fiercely that most of the acolytes\nwere frightened. Four or five of the boldest, however, answered him\nback, saying: \"What do you mean, you lazy fellow, by complaining about a\ntrick played upon you while you were asleep in the middle of the day? If\nwe hear any more of your grumbling, we will throw you out of the\nmonastery.\"\n\nIn this way they tried to frighten Benkei, but he did not budge an inch,\nand his only reply was to lift his stick and knock down the four or five\nwho had spoken.\n\nSeeing this, Kaien, the author of all this trouble, rushed up, saying:\n\"You are a coward to attack fellows half your size. Suppose for a change\nyou fight with me!\"\n\nThen looking round for a weapon, and seeing a large log of wood on a\nfire close by, he picked it up and faced the enraged Benkei, adding: \"It\nwas I who scribbled on your face. If you are angry, come on and let us\nfight it out!\"\n\nThe two closed at once and fought for some time; then Benkei grew\nimpatient, and seizing Kaien by his collar and belt lifted him off his\nfeet. The other novices, seeing this, cried out in alarm: \"Kaien has\nbeen lifted off his feet. He can't fight now. He is helpless!\"\n\nThen they shouted to Kaien to apologize and save himself.\n\n\"Pardon! Pardon! Benkei! Mercy!\" screamed the youth, now bitterly\nrepenting his folly.\n\nBenkei, however, did not hear Kaien's cry for mercy, for he was like a\nmadman now. He hardly knew what he did or said, for his blood was fired\nby the taunts of the young men and by the fight.\n\n\"You shall die,\" screamed Benkei, \"mannerless coward that you are; you\nshall die, I say, and your carcass shall be eaten by crows!\" With these\nwords he shook Kaien as mercilessly as a dog does a rat, and then flung\nhim upon the tiled roof of the chapel, a height of some fourteen or\nfifteen feet. Kaien fell on the roof, rolled down the tiles, and at\nlast, striking a rock in the garden, was killed on the spot. When the\nfoolish and unfortunate lad was flung up on the roof by Benkei, he still\nheld the smoking brand which he had all to no purpose used against his\nantagonist and this, falling on the building, flared up and set fire to\nthe temple. Just then a breeze sprang up and fanned the flames into a\nfierce blaze; sparks from the roof dropped upon the curving tiers of the\nfive-storied pagoda, and the main gateway, and the school and the houses\nof the bonzes, till the whole of the monastery was in a blaze. Seeing\nthe conflagration, all the inmates were lost in consternation. Shouting\n\"Fire! Fire!\" some of them ran to draw water from the well, while\nothers threw sand on the flames, and in the excitement and general\nconfusion which followed, Benkei, the cause of the calamity, was\nforgotten.\n\nIn the midst of the tremendous tumult and disturbance Benkei laughed\nquietly to himself.\n\n\"Ha! ha!\" he laughed; \"look at the fire and the stir I have made! I have\nnever seen the lazy bonzes know what it is to hurry before. It will do\nthem good for once in a way!\"\n\nThen he slipped away from the temple and made his way back to Kyoto.\n\nBenkei, wild and unruly as he was, cannot be judged by the standard of\nconduct of to-day. Those times were very different from these days of\npeace and order. Young men were encouraged to do rough violent deeds to\nshow their strength and courage, and if they killed their antagonists in\nthe fight, so much the more did this redound to their credit. It was the\ncustom for a young _samurai_ on obtaining a sword to go out into the\nhighways to try the mettle of his blade. Woe to those who passed by;\ntheir blood must baptize the knight's sword. This training bred a\nmartial spirit in the youth of Japan, and produced brave men of\ndauntless courage and resolution like Benkei, who became such a hero in\nafter-life.\n\nBenkei was, however, by this time tired of study and of living the dull\nlife of a bonze, and he now made up his mind to rove about in search of\nadventures, determining that, should he find a stronger man than\nhimself, he would become that man's vassal, turn from his wild ways and\nlead the life of a good _samurai_, faithful to his lord and a good\npatriot to his country. But first of all he must find the man stronger\nthan he to whom he would bow his proud strong neck. He longed now to\nfind a master worthy of respect, whom he could reverence as his\nsuperior. How was this to be done? At last an idea struck him. He had\ndetermined to be a soldier and enter the service of a _samurai_; he must\ntherefore get a good sword. Violent and impetuous as ever, to this end\nhe now vowed to take a thousand swords from the citizens of Kyoto. To\ncarry out his wild scheme he went nightly to the Gojo Bridge, and when\nmen passed along bearing swords in their girdles he would rush suddenly\nout, attack them furiously, and snatch away their swords. He never\npursued those who ran away, for he deemed them cowards and would not\nwaste his time or strength on such creatures; but those who opposed him\nhe would mow down with a single sweep of his great halberd. In this way\nhe had attacked nine hundred and ninety-nine men and taken away nine\nhundred and ninety-nine swords; each time he had hoped to meet his match\nin the numerous contests, but not one among the whole number proved a\nserious foe.\n\nAccordingly the swords Benkei had thus collected were all poor weapons,\nfor weak men have like swords; they were blunt and badly tempered and of\nnot the slightest use to him. He was heartily disappointed, and began to\nthink that perhaps he had better abandon the enterprise as a vain one.\nIn desperation, however, he determined to get one more sword and thus\ncomplete the total of one thousand blades, the number he had first of\nall set his mind upon. In spite of discouragement, he told himself that\nit would be stupid to give up at this point.\n\nAs soon as he had decided to do this, his spirits revived, and for some\nunaccountable reason he felt that this time he would be lucky, and able\nto secure once for all a good weapon. He waited impatiently for the\nevening, and as soon as the twilight fell he made his preparations and\nwent as usual to the Gojo Bridge. It happened to be the night of the\nfifteenth day of August, and the beautiful harvest moon sailed up into\nthe serene heaven, above the hills and the tall dark velvety pines and\ncryptomerias, and the sleeping world was bathed in her soft silvery\nbrilliance. For a long time Benkei stood leaning against the parapet of\nthe bridge, entranced by the fair scene spread out before him in the\nmoonlight and apparently quite forgetful for the time being of his\npurpose. Suddenly the stillness of the beautiful night was broken by\nthe sound of a flute. Benkei started from his reverie. The music drew\nnearer and nearer, and then he saw a slight figure approaching from the\nother end of the bridge. The newcomer wore a kind of white veil and high\nblack-lacquered clogs, and was playing on his flute as he strolled\nalong. Benkei watched the approaching stranger and saw at once that this\nwas no ordinary passer-by.\n\nAt first he thought that this must be a woman, for the moonlight\nrevealed a slender grace in walking and then on nearer view a face of\nextreme youth and aristocratic beauty. He could not find the heart to\nattack the mysterious and gentle unknown, and decided to let him or her\npass unmolested; but while he was wondering who the person, so unlike\nall the others he had met on the bridge, could be, the supposed lady all\nof a sudden stepped up to Benkei and kicked the latter's halberd out of\nhis hand.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" shouted Benkei, in a rage when he had recovered\nfrom his astonishment; and recovering his halberd he pulled off what he\nsupposed to be the lady's veil. To his surprise he found that the\nadventurous stranger was a handsome youth who might easily be mistaken\nfor a girl, and then Benkei's eyes fell upon a splendid gold-mounted\nsword which the lad carried in his girdle. He said to himself that he\nhad not waited so long in vain, that he was verily in luck this night\nto have such a bird come into net. While these thoughts flashed through\nhis mind, Benkei clutched at the sword, but the youth was far stronger\nthan he looked, and the instant Benkei put forth his hand the young\nfellow flung a heavy fan in his face, saying: \"How brave you think\nyourself, don't you?\" and darted out of his reach.\n\nThis made Benkei more angry than ever, and with threatening exclamations\nhe lifted his halberd to deal a smashing blow on the young knight. But\nthe lad was far too quick for Benkei and sprang about with the\nnimbleness of a monkey, and no matter how Benkei aimed his blows, they\nnever reached the mark. Never had Benkei seen such agility and\nadroitness. Sometimes the youth appeared in front and sometimes behind,\nnow on one side and again on the other, and as often as Benkei turned he\nwould find that his opponent had shifted his position like lightning. At\nlength Benkei grew tired and a sense of awe began to take hold of his\nmind, for he now felt that the youth must be a supernatural being, or a\ntengu, and no common mortal, and this feeling grew upon him so strongly\nthat he began to lose heart. He knew now that he was no longer\ninvincible as he had hitherto been. Then the lad, who had hitherto acted\non the defensive, began to push his advantage, and, attacking Benkei in\ngood earnest, beat down the latter's guard and disarmed him.\n\nWhen the redoubtable Benkei, who had never yet been beaten by any one in\nhis whole life, found himself thus ignominiously defeated, he was\nastonished beyond words, and there and then, kneeling down on the\nbridge, bowed low before the young man and humbly said: \"Will you\ncondescend to tell me whose son you are, and your name? Something tells\nme that you are no common man!\"\n\nThe handsome youth laughed and replied: \"I am the eighth and youngest\nson of Minamoto Yoshitomo, and my name is Minamoto Ushiwaka,\" and with\nthese words he allowed Benkei to rise.\n\n\"What do I hear?\" exclaimed Benkei; \"are you indeed the young knight\nMinamoto Ushiwaka of whom I have heard so much? I felt from the first\nthat you were a person of distinction. As for myself, I am simply\nMusashi Bo Benkei. For a long time I have been looking for a man\nstronger than myself, to whom I could look up as my master. I have led a\nwild life for a long time, but if you will take me into your service I\nwill be a good and faithful vassal.\"\n\nUshiwaka, who had heard of Benkei's remarkable strength, and who had\ncome out that night to the Gojo Bridge for the purpose of meeting the\nnotorious man with the hope of winning him to his side, was delighted\nat the turn events had taken and promised to take Benkei into his\nservice, and in this way the brave youth and the giant priest became\nassociated as lord and vassal.\n\nFrom this hour Benkei was a completely changed character. He gave up his\nwild ways and became obedient to his young master, who was the only one\nhe had found a match for his imposing strength and will. He served his\nnew lord with the utmost devotion, and fought bravely in every battle\nwhich Yoshitsune (Ushiwaka's name when he came of age) waged against the\nTaira clan at the famous battles of Ichi-no-tani and Dan-no-Ura, of\nwhich you will have read in the story of Yoshitsune.\n\nYoshitsune won victory after victory, driving his Taira enemies to the\nsea, where they miserably perished at Dan-no-Ura, and it seemed to the\nwondering people that he must be the impersonation of Hachiman, the God\nof War.\n\nSo handsome and brave was he that they had never seen or heard of his\nlike before, and throughout Japan every one praised and loved him. Now\nYoritomo, when he saw his brother's popularity, became jealous, and\nKajiwara, one of his generals, who hated Yoshitsune because the young\nknight had once openly reproved him for cowardice, seized the\nopportunity to poison Yoritomo's mind against his younger brother; he\nsuggested that Yoshitsune's aim was to supplant Yoritomo in supreme\nauthority. Sad to say, Yoritomo believed this wicked slander. Therefore,\nwhen Yoshitsune, covered with glory and honour, returned from the wars,\nbringing with him, as prisoners of war, Munemori, the Taira chieftain,\nand his son (Kiyomori was now dead), he found that Yoritomo had erected\na barrier near Koshigoe, just outside Kamakura. Here he sent a guard to\nreceive the prisoners, but on the ground that Yoshitsune was guilty of\ntreachery, Yoritomo refused him admittance into Kamakura. In vain did\nYoshitsune protest against the unjust accusation; in vain did he write a\ntouching letter avowing his unaltered love and devotion to Yoritomo; in\nvain did he recount all the hardships endured on the campaigns which the\nyoung and chivalrous general had undertaken at the command of his\nbrother. He was not believed, and ingratitude was the only reward he\nreceived for devotion to his brother's cause. At this crisis Yoshitsune\nfound himself banished and every part of Japan rendered unsafe for his\nresidence, for Yoritomo ordered him to be arrested. When this time of\ntrouble came, Benkei was indefatigable in his efforts to guard\nYoshitsune's person from danger. He followed him in his flight and exile\nand never left his master's side.\n\nYoshitsune now returned to Kyoto for a time. Soon after he arrived there\nYoritomo sent a man named Tosabo to compass his death. This man, like\nBenkei, had formerly been a bonze, and he gave out that he had come to\nvisit the temples of the capital.\n\nTosabo knew very well what a shrewd and clever warrior Yoshitsune was,\nand he doubted his own ability to cope with the task he had undertaken.\nHe therefore decided that he would wait until Yoshitsune was completely\noff his guard, and then make a sudden attack upon the house where he was\nstaying. He told his followers of his plan and secretly prepared for the\nraid.\n\nYoshitsune soon learned of Tosabo's coming, for the people of Kyoto and\nits neighbourhood, where he had lived as a boy, were devoted to him. The\nyoung general, knowing that Tosabo was in Yoritomo's service, regarded\nhim with suspicion. He told Benkei of his fears, and Benkei at once\nvolunteered to go and summon Tosabo to the house and question him.\n\nYoshitsune agreed to the plan, and Benkei immediately set off for\nTosabo's house.\n\n\"Now, Tosabo,\" said he, \"my Lord Yoshitsune desires to see you, so you\nare to come back with me at once!\"\n\nBenkei's manner was so fierce and determined that Tosabo felt alarmed\nand he therefore pretended to be ill; but Benkei was not to be balked in\nthat stupid way, and shouting: \"If you are not quick, I'll seize you\nand take you whether you will or not!\" he grabbed Tosabo by his girdle\nand lifted him up as if he had been a child, tucked him under one arm,\nand, mounting his horse, carried him off.\n\nThere were several of Tosabo's retainers present at the interview, but\nthey were all trembling with fear and did not dare to put forth a hand\nto help their master.\n\nBenkei thus conducted Tosabo into the presence of Yoshitsune by force,\nand both master and vassal began to examine him strictly; but Tosabo was\nsuch an audacious rascal that, notwithstanding the fact that he had\nactually come from Yoritomo, hired as an assassin, he refused to confess\nanything. With great humility he feigned surprise at being suspected\nof entertaining designs against Yoshitsune's life, saying that he was\nbut a poor bonze in Yoritomo's service, and as Yoshitsune was his\nmaster's brother, he (Tosabo) regarded him as his lord also. Nothing\nelse but a religious fast and retreat had called him to Kyoto!\n\nNow Yoshitsune and Benkei had no actual proof of his guilt, so they\nallowed Tosabo to go free, first making him sign a document declaring\nthat he was not a hired assassin. In truth neither of them believed the\ncrafty man, but thought him too despicable an enemy to fear, and made up\ntheir minds that, if he and his gang planned a night assault, the party\ncould be easily repulsed and put to flight. Tosabo on his part\ncongratulated himself on his cleverness, returned home, armed his men,\nand made an attack on Yoshitsune's residence.\n\nYoshitsune that night, thinking that at any rate for some time he was\nquite safe from attack, made merry with all his men. Drinking\namber-coloured wine they sat up late, and when at last the young general\nretired to rest, having drunk much he slept a deep sleep. His beautiful\nyoung wife Shizuka, who accompanied him in all his wanderings, fearing\nshe knew not what, that night alone kept watch beside her lord's couch.\nShe was the first to hear the approach of Tosabo and his soldiers.\nVainly she tried to rouse Yoshitsune; she called him, she shook him, but\nall in vain,--he slept on. Shizuka was frantic. She heard the enemy at\nthe gate trying to batter it down. Suddenly the thought struck her, as\nif by inspiration, that the most thrilling call to arms to a warrior\nmust be the sound of his armour. She rushed to the box in the hall, and\nheavy as it was for her slender strength, she lifted out the armour. She\ndragged it quickly into the room. Then over Yoshitsune's head she waved\nit to and fro. \"Clang-clang,\" sounded the armour, \"clang--clang.\" Up\nsprang the warrior, seized the suit of armour, and with Shizuka's help\ndressed himself for battle. All this took place without a single word.\nBenkei and the rest of his soldiers soon joined him and the enemy were\nput to flight. Tosabo managed to escape and hide himself in the\nmountains of Kurama, near Kyoto, but he was caught and put to death at\nlast.\n\nTo have been able to thwart and punish the assassins from Kamakura was a\nsource of great satisfaction to Yoshitsune and his men; but when the\nstory reached Yoritomo he was very wroth, and issued another decree\nentirely disowning Yoshitsune and declaring him an enemy to the state.\n\nYoshitsune felt that Yoritomo was acting most unjustly towards him, for\nhe knew himself to be entirely blameless of plotting against Yoritomo's\nsupremacy; but as it was useless to contend against his elder brother,\nwho as Shogun was the military ruler of Japan, he decided to leave Kyoto\nand escape to some other place. He therefore planned to cross from the\nprovince of Settsu to Saikoku in a ship; but when they reached\nDan-no-Ura, where Yoshitsune had finally conquered and all but\nterminated the Taira clan, the fine weather they had hitherto\nexperienced suddenly changed, the sky became overcast with black clouds,\nrain began to fall in torrents, the wind began to blow, and gradually\nthe waves rose higher and higher, and shipwreck became imminent. As the\ndarkness deepened about them, though they could see nothing, over the\nwater there came weird sounds of the din of battle, the rushing of ships\nthrough the sea, the shouting and trampling of men, the whizzing of\narrows in the air; all around them as the ship sped on, the tumult of\nthe fight grew louder, till Yoshitsune felt that he was living again\nthrough that awful and never-to-be-forgotten battle.\n\n[Illustration: THE PHANTOM HOST DREW NEARER TO THE BOAT]\n\nThen from amid the rolling waves, which every moment threatened to\nengulf the boat, arose pale, ghastly forms whose wan faces were terrible\nto see. Clad in blood-stained, battle-torn armour and ravaged with\ngaping wounds, these warrior ghosts raised threatening hands, as if to\nstop the progress of the boat, while meanings of despair and hollow sobs\nand shrieks burst from the spectre army. Among the foremost figures was\none who brandished a huge halberd, and as he approached, he addressed\nYoshitsune, saying: \"Aha! Revenge! Revenge! Behold in me the ghost of\nTaira-no-Tomomori, general of the Taira clan, ruthlessly destroyed by\nyou! Long have I waited here for you and now I will slay you all, for\nnot until then will the slaughtered Taira rest in their watery graves.\"\n\nThrough the tossing, whirling waters, with the wind shrieking round\nthem, and a weird blue phosphoric light making everything visible, the\nphantom host drew nearer and nearer to the boat. But Yoshitsune did not\nseem to be in the least alarmed. As dauntless as ever, he stood up in\nthe prow and faced the ghosts of the men whom he had slain in that\nterrible battle, and flashing forth his keen blade, said: \"So you are\nthe spirits of the Taira clan, are you? And you have risen from the\nocean-bed to haunt us, and to impede our progress, and to inflict evil\nupon us? Have you forgotten how I drove you before me as dust before the\nwind when you were alive? It is a pity you have not profited by past\nexperiences! I should have thought that you would have had no wish to\nsee me again!\"\n\nWith these words he was about to brandish his sword and attack the\nspectres, but Benkei, the wise and faithful Benkei, stepped up to his\nyoung master and stayed his hand, saying: \"Not so, my lord. Swords are\nuseless against ghosts. It is not wise to anger these poor earth-bound\nphantoms. The best way of dealing with them is to pacify them, so that\nthey may find peace and go to their own place.\"\n\nYoshitsune yielded to Benkei and allowed himself to be put aside. Then\nBenkei, who, you will remember, had formerly been a Buddhist priest,\ndrew out a small rosary which he always carried with him, and telling\nhis beads, and rubbing his hands together, palm to palm, began to recite\nprayers earnestly and reverently in a loud voice. The sacred words\nappointed by the Buddhist Church fell like a benediction upon the angry\nspirits, the wailing and the howling and the tumult of the phantom\nconflict ceased, and the wraiths gradually vanished into the sea from\nwhence they had arisen; the storm ceased, and the weather cleared and\nbecame as fine and peaceful as it was before, and the travellers soon\nreached the land in safety.\n\nAcross the mountains Yoshitsune now fled, and after endless adventures\nand hairbreadth escapes, he determined to seek the help of his old\nfriend and partisan, the General Hidehira, in the province of Oshu. On\nthe way thither they came to a guard-house at Ataka, in Kaga Province.\nThis guard-house was one of the principal frontier stations at which in\nthose feudal times all travellers had to give an account of themselves.\nYoritomo had by this time issued a proclamation ordering the arrest of\nYoshitsune, so the young general and Benkei and the handful of faithful\nmen still left to him disguised themselves as wandering priests, wearing\nloose caps on their heads, carrying wallets on their backs, and grasping\npilgrim staves in their hands. Yoshitsune himself was disguised as a\n_goriki_, or coolie, attendant on the priests. They travelled slowly\nuntil they came to the barrier, consulting together as to how they\nshould pass it, for they heard that the sentries suspected every one and\nwere examining passers-by very strictly. Only the previous day three\nmendicants had been killed, owing to the suspicion of the guards having\nbeen excited.\n\nAll Yoshitsune's followers, among whom were many brave, loyal, though\nheadstrong young fellows, wanted to storm the guard-house and cut their\nway through the soldiers, but Benkei was strongly opposed to this and\nsaid: \"No, no, that will never do! A quarrel would cost some of our\nlives, and we have few enough as it is. Leave the matter to me to manage\nand I'll get you through.\"\n\nNo one ever gainsaid Benkei, when he spoke with authority like that, for\nthey all knew what a mountain of strength and resource he was in time of\nneed. So Benkei, as ever, had his way. He disguised Yoshitsune in\nthe dress of a servant (_goriki_), and gave him a deep broad-brimmed hat\nof bamboo to wear, and made him tuck up his robe into his belt; then,\nadvancing in front of the others, he leisurely approached the\nguard-house, and with an air of the utmost unconcern and nonchalance\nsaid: \"We are mendicant priests who are travelling throughout the\nvarious provinces for the purpose of soliciting subscriptions for the\nrebuilding of the shrine of the Great Buddha at the Todaiji Temple, in\nNara. We ask permission to pass the barrier.\"\n\nNow the captain of the guard was a very clever man and a strict observer\nof rules, and he would not let Benkei pass without questioning him\nthoroughly.\n\n\"Well, as you say you are visiting the various provinces soliciting\nsubscriptions for the purpose of rebuilding the Shrine of the Great\nBuddha, it is possible that I may allow you to pass, but you must show\nme positive proof of the truth of your story,\" said the captain of the\nguard.\n\nBenkei was staggered for a moment when he heard these words. What should\nhe do? But he was a quick-witted man, and without betraying any sign of\nbeing taken by surprise, he answered with composure: \"Very good, then, I\nwill read you my commission written by the High Priest himself in the\nfirst pages of the subscription-book.\"\n\nWith these words, speculating upon the ignorance of the guard, with\ngreat dignity he drew out a scroll, and pressing it with reverence to\nhis forehead, began to improvise and read out an imaginary letter from\nthe High Priest of the Todaiji Temple for the rebuilding of a shrine for\nthe Daibutsu, at Nara. At the first mention of the name of the priest,\nso famous and so highly revered throughout the country, the captain of\nthe guard, it is said, fell respectfully upon his knees and listened,\nface bent to the earth in humble awe, to the contents of the letter. So\nwell did Benkei play his part that the sentry was convinced of the\ngenuine character of the commission and said: \"I am satisfied. There is\nno reason to detain you. You may pass!\"\n\nBenkei was overjoyed, and thought that at length all difficulties had\nbeen overcome. At the head of the fugitive band, with Yoshitsune\ndisguised as an attendant in the rear, he was moving forward to pass\nthrough the barrier when the captain suddenly darted forward and stopped\nYoshitsune, saying in a loud voice: \"Wait a moment, you coolie! Wait a\nmoment!\"\n\n\"We are discovered,\" thought Benkei; and even he, dauntless and cool in\nthe face of all danger hitherto, felt his heart beating violently in the\nintense excitement of this momentous crisis.\n\nBut it was no time for hesitation, and recognizing that the whole\nsituation hung upon that very moment, Benkei, with his usual pluck and\ndaring, pulled himself together and coolly asked: \"Have you anything to\nsay to this coolie whom you have stopped?\"\n\n\"Of course I have, and that is why I have stopped him,\" replied the\nsentry.\n\n\"And may I ask what your business with him is?\" inquired Benkei.\n\n\"This coolie,\" answered the captain, \"is said by my soldiers to resemble\nLord Yoshitsune, and I stopped him so that I might examine him.\"\n\n\"What!\" shouted Benkei, pretending to be overcome with laughter at the\nidea, \"this coolie resembles Lord Yoshitsune? Ha! ha! ha! Oh, this is\nindeed too comical for anything! I wondered why you arrested him, but\nnever thought of his being stopped for such an absurd reason. But as a\nmatter of fact he has been mistaken for Lord Yoshitsune over and over\nagain by several people, and you are by no means the only one who has\nhad his suspicions aroused. You see the fellow is handsome and has a\nvery white skin like an aristocrat, and that's all the good there is\nabout him, but on that account I have had an immense amount of trouble\nwith him.\"\n\nThen Benkei turned to Yoshitsune, saying: \"Wretched creature! it is all\nyour fault that we come under suspicion all the time. You shuffle along\nin such a cowardly manner and put on such strange airs that people\nnaturally suspect you. In future be more careful, and walk along like a\nman and not in such a mincing way, you fool!\"\n\nThus Benkei feigned to lose his temper, and after scolding Yoshitsune\nroughly, finally lifted his staff and gave him several blows across the\nback, telling him to fall upon his knees and not presume to remain\nstanding in the presence of the guard.\n\nThe captain of the guard had been watching this scene for some moments,\nand when he saw Benkei start in and thrash Yoshitsune, his doubts were\ncompletely allayed; for he thought that if the apparent servant were\nreally Yoshitsune and the mendicant priest the latter's retainer, the\nvassal would never dare to assault his master in this fashion.\n\n\"Ah! it was my fault and carelessness. Evidently it was an entire\nmistake on our part to think this coolie was Lord Yoshitsune, and it is\nnot the poor fellow's fault, so pray do not beat him any more! Continue\nyour journey at once and take him with you.\"\n\nBenkei's trick thus succeeded completely. The captain reentered the\nguard-house and the young lord and his vassals passed at last unhindered\nthrough the strictly guarded gate, saved as ever by the quick-wittedness\nof Benkei.\n\nNow some say that the captain of the guard was not deceived; that he\nknew that the disguised priests and attendant were Yoshitsune and his\nparty, but his whole sympathy was with the hunted hero and his brave few\nand he allowed them to pass. For a _samurai_ must ever show mercy and\nsympathy, especially to his fellows and to those in distress. The strict\nexamination he insisted upon was a farce he played to satisfy the\nauthorities at Kamakura.\n\nYoshitsune and his followers were filled with admiration at the wisdom\nof Benkei, and great were the praise and thanks they rendered him on\nthis occasion; but Benkei, full of reverence and devotion to his master,\nnever ceased to deplore the necessity which drove him to beat his own\nlord and apologized with great humility. Whenever the story was told, he\nwould shed tears of sorrow and declare that he would rather have been\nbeaten to death himself than have been obliged by circumstances to\nstrike Yoshitsune.\n\nThus once by force of arms he put to flight the would-be assassins of\nYoshitsune at Kyoto; by reciting Buddhist prayers he laid the ghosts of\nthe Taira warriors in the sea at Dan-no-Ura; and by sheer wit and\nsagacity he brought his party across the dangerous frontier; and at\nlength he managed to arrive safely with his beloved master at the Oshu\nresidence of the famous General Hidehira.\n\nHe now thought that all troubles were over; but unfortunately this story\nsoon reached Kamakura City, and Yoritomo, furious at Yoshitsune's\ndaring, despatched a large army to chastise him.\n\nAt this time Yoshitsune's camp was pitched beside the river Koromo, and\nthe army from Kamakura, swarming up in countless thousands on the\nopposite bank, discharged volley after volley of arrows at the brave but\nill-fated band. Yoshitsune's handful of men were entirely unable to face\nthe overwhelming numbers, and fled in confusion, seeking shelter in the\nneighbouring woods and valleys or hiding themselves in the mountains.\nBut Benkei, despising flight, refused to budge, and stood without moving\nwhile showers of arrows fell like rain around him. At length the enemy\nsaw that Benkei stood immovable with his seven weapons on his back,\ngrasping his great halberd in both hands. Wondering at the sight, they\ndrew near for the purpose of solving the mystery. As they approached,\nthe giant still remained standing; not an eyelid flinched, as his eyes,\nwide open, glared fiercely at the soldiers. No wonder that the giant did\nnot stir, for arrows were sticking all over his body like quills on a\nporcupine, and it was evident that he had died standing with his face to\nthe enemy.\n\nThis story is known far and wide throughout Japan, and you can imagine\nwhat a brave sturdy warrior he must have been to have died in this way,\nfighting to the last.\n\nAnother story tells how the enemy came up to the wonderful figure of\nBenkei and found it to be but a straw dummy, and that by this device\nBenkei gained time for his beloved lord, with whom he escaped into the\nNorth, leaving their enemies far behind. Such is the story of Benkei,\nand the story does not end here; for tradition relates with much\ncircumstance, as traditions always do, that Benkei's master became the\nconqueror of Northern Asia, known to after ages as the famous Genghis\nKhan.\n\n\n[Illustration: DIED STANDING WITH HIS FACE TO THE ENEMY]\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOBLIN OF OYEYAMA\n\n\nLong, long ago in Old Japan, in the reign of the Emperor Ichijo, the\nsixty-sixth Emperor, there lived a very brave general called\nMinamoto-no-Raiko. Minamoto was the name of the powerful clan to which\nhe belonged, and in England it would be called his surname, and Raiko,\nor Yorimitsu,[1] was his own name.\n\nIn those times it was the custom for generals to keep as a body-guard\nfour picked knights renowned for their daring spirit, their great\nstrength, and their skill in wielding the sword. These four braves were\ncalled Shitenno, or Four Kings of Heaven, and they participated in all\nthe exploits and martial expeditions of their chief, and vied with one\nanother in excelling in bravery and dexterity.\n\nMinamoto-no-Raiko was no exception to the general rule of those ancient\nleaders of Japan, and he had under him Usui-Sadamitsu, Sakata Kintoki,\nUrabe Suetake, and Watanabe Tsuna (the clan or surname comes first in\nJapan). Search the wide world from north to south and from east to west,\nand no braver warriors than the Shitenno of Minamoto-no-Raiko could you\nfind. Each one of the four was said to be a match single-handed for a\nthousand men. They lived for adventure, and their delight was in war.\n\nNow it happened about this time that Kyoto, the capital, was ringing\nwith the stories of the doings of a frightful demon that lived in the\nfastnesses of a high mountain called Mount Oye, in the province of\nTamba. This goblin or demon's name was Shutendoji. To look upon the\ncreature was a horrible thing, and those who once caught sight of him\nnever forgot the sight to their dying day. He sometimes took upon him\nthe form of a human being, and leaving his den would steal into the\ncapital and haunt the streets and carry off precious sons and beloved\ndaughters of the Kyoto homes. Having seized these treasures and flowers\nof the people, he would drag them to his castle in the wilds of Mount\nOye, and there he would make them work and wait upon him till he was\nready to devour them, then he would tear them limb from limb.\n\nFor a long time the flower of the youth of the capital had been\nkidnapped in this way; many homes had been made desolate. For a long,\nlong time no one had the least idea of what happened to the sons and\ndaughters thus stolen, but at the period when this story begins, the\ndread news of the cannibal Shutendoji and his mountain den began to be\nnoised abroad.\n\nNow at the Court there was an official, Knight Kimitaka by name, who was\nthrice happy in the possession of a beautiful daughter. She was his only\nchild, and upon her he and his wife doted. One day the darling of the\nfamily disappeared, and no trace whatsoever of the beautiful girl could\nbe found. The household was plunged into the deepest grief and misery.\nThe mother at last determined to consult a soothsayer, and, bidding an\nattendant follow her, she repaired to the house of a famous\nfortune-teller and diviner, who revealed to her that her daughter had\nbeen stolen away by the goblin of Mount Oye. The mother hastened home\nterror-stricken, and the father, when he was told the dire news, was\ndumb with grief. He gave up going on duty at the Palace, for he was so\nbroken-hearted that he could do nothing but weep night and day over the\nloss of his only daughter. To lose her was bad enough, but the thought\nof the horrible hands into which she had fallen was unendurable, and all\nwho loved the poor child, even her own father, were powerless to save\nher. Oh! the bitter, bitter grief!\n\nAt last the Emperor heard of the sorrow that had overtaken Kimitaka,\nand his wrath was great to think that the hateful goblin had dared to\nenter the precincts of the sacred capital without permission, and had\ndared to steal away his subjects in this manner. And in his royal\nindignation he sprang to his feet and threw down his tasselled fan and\ncried aloud: \"Is there no one in my domains who will punish this goblin\nand destroy him utterly, and avenge the wrongs he has done my people and\nthis city, and so set my heart at ease?\"\n\nThen the Emperor called his Council together, and put the matter before\nthem and asked them what it were best to do, for the city must at all\ncosts be rid of this terrible scourge.\n\n\"How dare he haunt my dominions and lay hands on my people in the very\nprecincts of my Palace?\" cried the distressed Emperor.\n\nThen the Ministers respectfully answered the Emperor and said: \"There\nare numbers of brave warriors in Your Majesty's realm, but there are\nnone so able to do your bidding as Minamoto-no-Raiko. We would humbly\nadvise our August Emperor, the Son of Heaven, to send for the knight and\ncommand him to slay the demon. Our poor counsel may not find favour in\nthe Son of Heaven's sight, but at the present moment we can think of\nnothing else to suggest!\"\n\nThis advice pleased the Emperor Ichijo, and he answered that he had\noften heard of Raiko as a valiant knight and true, who knew not what\nfear was, and he had no doubt that, as his Ministers said, he was just\nthe man for the adventure. And so the Emperor summoned Raiko to the\nPalace at once.\n\nThe warrior, on receiving the royal and unexpected summons, hastened to\nthe Palace, wondering what it could mean. When he was told what was\nwanted of him, he prostrated himself before the throne in humble\nacquiescence to the royal command. Indeed Raiko was right glad at the\nthought of the adventure in store for him, for it had been quiet for\nsome time in Kyoto, and he and his braves had chafed at the enforced\nidleness.\n\nThe more he realized the awful difficulty of his task, the higher his\ncourage and his spirits rose to face it and the more he determined to do\nit or die in the attempt.\n\nHe went home and thought out a plan of action.\n\nAs the enemy was no human being, but a formidable goblin, he thought\nthat the wisest course would be to resort to stratagem instead of an\nopen encounter, so he decided to take with him a few of his most trusted\nmen rather than a great number of soldiers. He then called together his\nfour braves, Kintoki, Sadamitsu, Suetake, and Tsuna, and besides these\nanother knight, by name Hirai Yasumasa, nicknamed Hitori, which meant,\nas applied to him, \"the only warrior.\"\n\nRaiko told them of the expedition, and explained that, as the demon was\nno common foe, he thought it wise that they should go to his mountain in\ndisguise; in this way they would the more likely and the more easily\novercome the goblin. They all agreed to what their chief said and set\nabout making their preparations with great joy. They polished up their\narmour and sharpened their long swords and tried on their helmets,\nrejoicing in the prospect of the action confronting them. Before\nstarting on this dangerous enterprise, they thought it wise to seek the\nprotection and blessing of the gods, so Raiko and Yasumasa went to pray\nfor help at the Temple of Hachiman, the God of War, at Mount Otoko,\nwhile Tsuna and Kintoki went to the Sumiyoshi Shrine of the Goddess of\nMercy, and Sadamitsu and Suetake to the Temple of Gongen at Kumano. At\neach shrine the six knights offered up the same prayer for divine help\nand strength, and on bended knees and with hands laid palm to palm they\nbesought the gods to grant them success in their expedition and a safe\nreturn to the capital.\n\nThen the brave band disguised themselves as mountain priests. They wore\npriests' caps and sacerdotal garments and stoles; they hid their armour\nand their helmets and their weapons in the knapsacks they carried on\ntheir backs; in their right hands they carried a pilgrim's staff, and\nin their left a rosary, and they wore rough straw sandals on their\nfeet. No one meeting these dignified, solemn-looking priests would have\nthought that they were on the way to attack the goblin of Mount Oye, and\nno one would have dreamt that the leader of the band was the warrior\nRaiko, who for courage and strength had not his peer in the whole of the\nIsland Empire.\n\nIn this way Raiko and his men travelled across the country till at last\nthey reached the province of Tamba and came to the foot of the mountain\nof Oye. Now as the goblin had chosen Mount Oye as his place of abode,\nyou can imagine how difficult of access it was! Raiko and his men had\noften travelled in mountainous districts, but they had never experienced\nanything like the steepness of Mount Oye. It was indescribable. Great\nrocks obstructed the way, and the branches of the trees were so thickly\ninterlaced overhead that the light of day could not penetrate through\nthe foliage even at midday, and the shadows were so black that the\nwarriors would have been glad of lanterns. Sometimes the path led them\nover precipices where they could hear the water rushing along the deep\nravines beneath. So deep were these chasms that as Raiko and his men\npassed them they were overcome with giddiness. For the first time they\nrealized now the dangers and difficulties of the task they had\nundertaken, and they were somewhat disheartened. At times they rested\nthemselves on the roots of trees to gain breath, sometimes they stopped\nto quench their thirst at some trickling spring, catching the water up\nin their hands. They did not, however, allow themselves to be\ndiscouraged long, but pushed their way deeper and deeper into the\nmountain, encouraging each other with brave words of cheer when they\nfelt their spirits flagging. But the thought sometimes crossed their\nminds, though they one and all kept it to themselves, \"What if\nShutendoji, or some of his demons, should be lurking behind any of the\nrocks or cliffs?\"\n\nSuddenly from behind a rock three old men appeared. Now Raiko, who was\nas wise as he was brave, and who at that very moment had been thinking\nof what he should do were they to encounter the goblin unexpectedly,\nthought that sure enough here were some of the goblins, who had heard of\nhis approach. They had simply disguised themselves as these venerable\nold men so as to deceive him and his men! But he was not to be outwitted\nby any such prank. He made signs with his eyes to the men behind him to\nbe on their guard, and they in obedience to his gesture put themselves\nin attitudes of defence.\n\nThe three old men saw at once the mistake Raiko had made, for they\nsmiled at him and then drawing nearer, they bowed before him, and the\nforemost one said: \"Do not be afraid of us; we are not the goblins of\nthis mountain. I am from the province of Settsu. My friend is from Kii,\nand the third lives near the capital. We have all been bereft of our\nbeloved wives and daughters by Shutendoji the goblin. Because of our\ngreat age we can do nothing to help them, though our sorrow for their\nloss, instead of growing less, grows greater day by day. We have heard\nof your coming, and we have awaited you here, so that we might ask you\nto help us in our distress. It is a great favour we ask, but we entreat\nyou if you encounter Shutendoji to show him no mercy, but to slay him\nand so avenge the wrongs of our wives and children and many others who\nhave been torn away from their homes in the Flower Capital.\"\n\nRaiko listened attentively to all the old man said, and then answered:\n\"Now that you have told me so much, I need not reserve the truth from\nyou\"; and he went on to tell them of the order he had received from the\nEmperor to destroy Shutendoji and his den, and the warrior did his best\nto comfort the old men and to assure them that he would do all in his\npower to restore their kidnapped wives and daughters.\n\nThen the old men expressed great joy; their faces beamed like the sun as\nthey thanked Raiko warmly for his kind sympathy, and they presented him\nwith ajar of _sak\u00e9_, saying as they bowed low: \"As a token of our\ngratitude we wish to present you with this magic wine. It is called\nShimben-Kidoku-Shu.' The name means, 'a cordial for men but a poison to\ngoblins.' Therefore if a demon drinks of this wine, all his strength\nwill go from him, and he will be as one paralyzed. Before you attack\nShutendoji, give him to drink of this wine, and for the rest you will\nfind no difficulty.\"\n\nAnd with these words the venerable spokesman handed the warrior a small\nwhite stone jar containing the wine. As soon as Raiko had taken the jar\ninto his hands, a radiance like that of sunlight suddenly shone round\nthe old men, and they vanished upwards from sight till their shining\nfigures were lost in the clouds.\n\nThe warriors were struck with astonishment. They gazed upwards as if\nstupefied. But Raiko was the first to recover from his surprise. He\nclapped his hands and laughed as he said: \"Be not afraid at what you\nhave seen! Be sure that the three who thus appeared to us are none other\nthan the gods of the shrines we visited before starting on this perilous\nenterprise. The old man who said he was from Settsu must have been the\ndeity of Sumiyoshi, the one from the province of Kii was the divinity of\nKumano, and the one from the capital the god Hachiman of Mount Otoko.\nThis is a most propitious sign. The three deities have taken us under\ntheir special protection. This _sak\u00e9_ is their gift, and it will surely\nbe of magic power in helping us to overcome the demons. We must,\ntherefore, render thanks to Heaven for the protection vouchsafed to us.\"\n\nThen Raiko and his five knights knelt down on the mountain pass and\nbowed themselves to the ground and prayed for some minutes in silence,\novercome with awe at the thought that the three gods whose aid they had\ninvoked had visited them. Raiko sprang to his feet and lifted the jar of\n_sak\u00e9_ reverently above his head, then he placed it with his armour and\nweapons in the box he carried on his back. Having done this, they all\nproceeded on their way, but oh! how safe and confident they now felt.\nRaiko with his magic wine felt more than a match for any demon now.\nThere is a proverb which says, \"A giant with an iron rod,\" which means\nstrength added to strength, and this was fully illustrated in the case\nof Raiko. The goblin Shutendoji was now to be pitied; it would surely go\nhard with him!\n\nAs they sped on their way they came to a mountain stream, and here they\nfound a damsel washing a blood-stained garment, and as she washed and\nbeat the garment against the current, they saw that she often had to\nstop and wipe the tears away with her sleeve, for she was weeping\nbitterly. Raiko's heart was stirred with pity at her distress, and he\nwent up to her and said: \"This is a goblin-haunted mountain; how is it\nthat I find a damsel such as you here?\"\n\nThe Princess (for such she was) looked up in his face wonderingly and\nsaid: \"It is indeed true that this is a goblin-haunted mountain, and\nhitherto inaccessible to mortals. How is it that you have managed to get\nhere?\" and she looked from Raiko to his men.\n\nThen Raiko said: \"I will tell you the truth quite frankly. The Emperor\nhas commanded us to slay the demon; that is why we are here!\"\n\nWithout waiting to hear any more, the Princess ran up to Raiko in her\njoy and clung to him, crying out in broken sentences: \"Are you indeed\nthe great Raiko of whom I have so often heard? How thankful I am that\nyou have come. I will be your guide to the goblin's den. Hasten, Knight\nRaiko, and kill the demons! I already feel that I am saved!\"\n\nWhen they heard these words the warriors knew that she was one of the\ngoblin's victims. The Princess turned and led the way up the hill.\nPresently they saw a large iron gate guarded by two demons. The demon on\nthe right was red and the demon on the left was black, and each was\narmed with a great iron stick or club. The Princess whispered to Raiko:\n\"Behold the home of the demon. Enter the gates, and you will find a\nbeautiful palace, built of black iron from the foundations to the roof.\nIt is therefore called the Palace of Black Iron or Kurogane. It is\nlarge, and the inside is as beautiful as a great Daimio's palace. Within\nthe walls of the Palace of Black Iron, Shutendoji holds a feast night\nand day. He is waited upon by maidens such as I, whom he has carried off\nfrom the capital and from the provinces to be his slaves. The wine he\ndrinks, poured out in crimson lacquer cups, is the blood of human\nbeings, and the food of those feasts is the flesh of his victims who are\nslain in turn. What numbers have I seen disappear, alas! all murdered to\nsupply the awful food and wine of those cannibal feasts. How I have\nprayed to Heaven to punish this monster! But when I saw the fate of my\nfriends, how could I hope to live? I knew not when my turn would come.\nBut since I have met you I feel that we shall all be saved and great is\nmy joy and gratitude!\"\n\nBy this time they had reached the gate, and the Princess went forward\nand said to the red and black demon sentinels: \"These poor travellers\nhave lost their way on this mountain. I took compassion on them and\nbrought them here, so that they may rest for a while before going on\ntheir journey. I hope you will be kind to them.\"\n\nWhen the Princess first began to speak the demons looked and saw Raiko\nand his fellow priests. Little dreaming who these men were, and that in\nadmitting them they were letting in the bravest knights in the whole of\nJapan, and still less suspecting their purpose, the demons laughed in\ntheir hearts. Good prey had indeed fallen into their hands; they would\nsurely be allowed a share in the feast that these fresh victims would\nfurnish.\n\nThey grinned from ear to ear at the Princess and told her that she had\ndone well, and bade her take the six travellers into the Palace and\ninform Shutendoji of their arrival. Thus the six warriors entered into\nthe very stronghold of the demons as if they were invited guests.\nTriumphant glee at the success of their plan made them exchange\nlightning glances with each other. They passed through the great iron\ngate, up to the porch, and then the Princess led them through large\nspacious rooms and along great corridors till at last they reached the\ninner part of the Palace. Here they were shown into a large hall. At the\nupper end in the seat of honour sat the demon king Shutendoji. Never had\nthe knights in their wildest dreams dreamt of such a hideous monster. He\nwas ten feet in height, his skin was bright red and his wild shock of\nhair was like a broom. He wore a crimson _hakama_,[2] and he rested his\nhuge arms on a stand. As the knights entered, he glared at them fiercely\nwith eyes as big as a dish. The sight of this dread monster was enough\nto make any one tremble with fear, and had Raiko and his knights been\nweak they must have fainted away with horror.\n\nRaiko could hardly restrain himself from flying at the monster then and\nthere, but he controlled himself and bowed humbly so as not to awaken\nthe enemy's suspicion in any way.\n\nShutendoji, glaring at him, said haughtily: \"I do not know who you are\nin the least, or how you have found your way into this mountain, but\nmake yourself at home!\"\n\nThen Raiko answered meekly: \"We are only humble mountain priests from\nMount Haguro of Dewa. We were on our way to the capital, having been on\na pilgrimage to the shrine of Omine. In travelling across these\nmountains we have lost our way. While wandering about and wondering\nwhich was the right path to take, we were met by one of the inmates of\nyour palace and kindly brought here. Please pardon us for trespassing on\nyour domains and for all the trouble we are giving you!\"\n\n\"Don't mention it,\" said Shutendoji; \"I am sorry to hear of your plight.\nDo not stand on ceremony while you are here, and let us feast together.\"\nThen turning to the attendant demons he shouted orders for the dinner to\nbe served, and clapped his red hands together.\n\nAt this the partitions between the rooms slid apart and beautiful\ndamsels magnificently robed came gliding in, bearing aloft in their\nhands large wine-cups, jars of _sak\u00e9_ and dishes of fish of all kinds,\nwhich they placed before the ugly goblin and the guests. Raiko knew that\nall these lovely princesses had been snatched from the Flower Capital by\nShutendoji, who, heedless of their tears and misery, kept them here to\nbe his handmaidens. He said to himself fiercely that they should soon be\nfree.\n\nNow that the wine-cups were brought in, the warrior seized his\nopportunity. From his satchel he took out the jar containing the\nenchanted wine, Shimben-Kidoku-Shu, which he had received from the gods\nof the three shrines, and said to Shutendoji: \"Here is some wine which\nwe have brought from Mount Haguro. It is a poor wine and unworthy of\nyour acceptance, but we have always found it of great benefit in\nrefreshing us when we were weary from fatigue and in cheering our\ndrooping spirits. It will give us much pleasure if you will try a little\nof our humble wine, though it may not please your taste!\"\n\nShutendoji seemed pleased at this courtesy. He handed out a huge cup to\nbe filled, saying: \"Give me some of your wine. I should like to try it.\"\nThe goblin drained it at one swallow and smacked his lips over it.\n\n\"I have never tasted such excellent wine,\" he said and held out his cup\nto be filled again.\n\nYou can imagine how delighted Raiko was, for he knew full well that the\ndemon was given into his hand. But he dissembled cleverly and said as he\nfilled the goblin's wine-cup: \"I am delighted that the Honourable Host\nshould deign to like our poor country wine. While you drink, I and my\ncompanions will venture to amuse you by our dancing.\"\n\nThen Raiko made a sign to his men and they began to chant an\naccompaniment, while he himself danced.\n\nShutendoji was highly amused as well as his attendants. They had never\nseen men dance before, and they thought that the strangers were very\nentertaining.\n\nThe goblins now began to pass the magic wine round and to grow merry.\nOthers meanwhile whispered among themselves, pitying the six travellers\nwho, all unconscious of the horrible fate which was about to overtake\nthem, were spending their last hours of liberty and probably of life in\ngiving wine to their slayers and in dancing and singing for their\namusement!\n\nAlready, however, the power of the enchanted wine had begun to work and\nShutendoji grew drowsy. The wine in the jar never seemed to grow less,\nhowever much was taken from it, and by this time all the demons had\nhelped themselves liberally. At last they all fell into a deep sleep,\nand stretching themselves out on the floor and on one another, some in\none corner and some in another, they were soon snoring so loudly that\nthe room shook, and were as insensible to all that was going on as logs\nof wood.\n\n\"The time has come!\" said Raiko, springing to his feet, and motioning to\nhis men to get to work. One and all hastily opened their knapsacks.\nTaking out their helmets, their armour, and their long swords, they\narmed themselves. When they were all ready they all knelt down, and,\nplacing their hands palm to palm, they prayed fervently to their patron\ngods to help them now in their hour of greatest need and peril.\n\nAs they prayed, a shining light filled the room, and in a radiant cloud\nthe three deities appeared again. \"Fear not, Warrior Raiko,\" they said.\n\"We have tied the hands and feet of the demon fast, so you have nothing\nto fear. While your knights cut off his limbs, do you cut off his head;\nthen kill the rest of the _oni_ and your work will be done.\" The three\nold men then disappeared as mysteriously as they had come.\n\nRaiko rejoiced at the vision and worshipped with his heart full of\ngratitude the vanishing deities. The knights then rose from their knees,\ntook their swords and wet the rivets with water, so as to fix the blade\nfirmly in the hilt. Then they all stole stealthily and cautiously\ntowards Shutendoji. No longer the timid mountain priests; clad in full\narmour, they were transformed into avenging warriors. With flashing eyes\nand dauntless mien they moved across the room.\n\nThe captive princesses standing round realized that these men were\ndeliverers, from their beloved capital. Their joy and wonder cannot be\nput into words. Some cried aloud with joy; others covered their faces\nwith their sleeves and burst into soft weeping; others raised their\nhands to Heaven and exclaimed, \"A Buddha come to Hell! Surely these\nbrave men will kill the demons and set us free\"; and with clasped hands\nthey entreated the knights to slay their captors and take them back to\ntheir homes.\n\nNow Raiko stood over the sleeping Shutendoji with drawn sword, and\nraising it on high with a mighty sweep he aimed at the demon's neck,\nwhich was as big round as a barrel.\n\nThe head was severed from the body at one blow, but, horrible to relate,\ninstead of falling to the ground, it flew up into the air in a great\nrage. It hung over Raiko for a moment snorting flames of fire, and then\nswooped down as if it would bite off the warrior's head, but it was\ndaunted by the glittering star on his helmet, and drew back and gazed in\nsurprise at the transformed man. Raiko was scorched by the demon's\nflaming breath. Once more he raised his long sword and striking the\nterrible head brought it to the ground at last.\n\nThe noise of the combat and the triumphant shouts of the warriors awoke\nthe other demons, who roused themselves as quickly as their stupefied\nsenses allowed them. They were in a great fright, and without waiting to\nget their iron clubs, they made a rush upon Raiko. But they were too\nlate. His five braves dashed in and attacked them right and left, until\nin a few minutes there was not one left to tell the tale of the\ndestruction which had come down upon them like the autumn whirlwind upon\nthe leaves of the forest glades.\n\nThe captive princesses, when they saw that their captors were all slain,\njumped about with gladness, waving their long sleeves to and fro, as the\ntears of joy streamed down their pale faces. They ran to Raiko and\ncaught hold of his sleeves and praised him, saying: \"Oh! Raiko Sama,\nwhat a brave and noble knight you are! We are indeed grateful to you for\nhaving saved our lives. Never have we seen such a wonderful warrior.\"\nAnd with many such expressions of joy they gathered round the knight,\nand their merry voices were now heard, instead of the groans of the\ndying cannibals.\n\nNow that Shutendoji was vanquished with all his horde, the way was quite\nopen for Raiko and his men to take the fair captives away from the\ncastle of horror and make their way back to the capital as soon as\npossible.\n\n[Illustration: THE HEAD FLEW UP INTO THE AIR]\n\nFirst of all Raiko tied up the head of Shutendoji with a strong rope and\ntold the five brave knights to carry it. Then, followed by the\nprincesses, the little band left Mount Oye forever and set out on the\nhomeward journey. When they reached Kyoto the news of Raiko's return\nspread like fire, and the people came out in crowds to welcome the\nheroes.\n\nWhen the parents of the long-lost damsels saw their daughters again,\nthey felt as if they must be dreaming. It seemed too good to be true\nthat the dear and cherished ones should be restored to them safe and\nwell, and they overwhelmed Raiko with praise and with precious gifts.\n\nRaiko took the head of Shutendoji to the Emperor and told him of all\nthat had happened to him. You may be sure that when His Majesty heard of\nthe success which had crowned Raiko and his expedition, he awarded him\ngreat praise and merit and bestowed upon him higher Court rank than\never.\n\nIn all the country, far and near, Raiko's name was in every one's mouth,\nand he was acknowledged to be the greatest warrior in the land. Even in\nthe lonely country places there was not one poor farmer who did not know\nof the brave deeds of the great general.\n\nEver since then his portrait is familiar to the boys of Japan, for it is\noften painted on their kites.\n\n\n[1] Raiko, or Yorimitsu. Both names are written with the same\nideographs. Raiko is the Chinese pronunciation, and Yorimitsu the\nJapanese rendering.\n\n[2] Hakama, a divided skirt, part of the Japanese costume.\n\n\n\n\nKIDOMARU THE ROBBER, RAIKO THE BRAVE, AND THE GOBLIN SPIDER\n\n\nYou have just read of the brave knight Raiko's exploits at Oyeyama and\nhow he rid the country of the demons who haunted the city of Kyoto and\nterrified the inhabitants of the Flower Capital (as that city was\nsometimes called) by their terrible deeds.\n\nThere are other interesting stories about him and his fearless\nwarrior-retainers which you may like to hear.\n\nIt was not long after Raiko's exploits at Oyeyama that the country rang\nwith the name of Kidomaru, a robber and highwayman, who, by his\nnotorious deeds of cruelty and robbery, had caused his name to be feared\nand hated by all, both young and old.\n\nOne evening Raiko with his attendants was returning home from a day's\nhunting, when he happened to pass the house of his younger brother\nYorinobu. The warrior had had a long day out; and having still a good\ndistance to ride before he would reach his own house the thought of a\ngood meal and friendly company, just then, when he was tired and very\nhungry, was pleasant to contemplate in the lonely hour of twilight. So\nhe called a halt outside the house and sent in word to his brother that\nhe, Raiko, was passing by, and that if Yorinobu had any refreshment to\noffer his brother, he would call in and stay the night there, as he was\ntired out on his way back from a day's hunt.\n\nNow in Japan an elder brother or sister commands respect from the\nyounger members of the family, and so Yorinobu was very pleased that\nRaiko, his elder brother, had condescended to call upon him.\n\nThe servant soon returned with the message that Yorinobu was only too\npleased to receive Raiko; that he had ordered a feast to be prepared\nthat evening in honour of an unusual event, and as he was alone, nothing\ncould be more opportune or give him greater joy than that his elder\nbrother should have chanced to come by. He humbly begged Raiko that he\nwould deign to share the feast, such as it was, and to pardon the\npoorness of his hospitality.\n\nRaiko was very pleased with his brother's gracious reception. He quickly\nflung the reins to his groom, dismounted from his horse, and entered the\nhouse, wondering what could be the occasion of Yorinobu's ordering a\nbanquet for himself. When the warrior was shown into the room he found\nYorinobu seated on the mats drinking _sak\u00e9_, as the servants were\nbringing in the first dishes of the dinner. When the salutations were\nover, Yorinobu handed Raiko his wine-cup. Raiko took it, and having\ndrained it, asked what his brother meant by the feast he had promised\nhim and what was the occasion of it. Yorinobu laughed as if with\ntriumph, and wheeling round on his cushion pointed out into the garden.\n\nRaiko then looked in the direction indicated by his brother's hand, and\nsaw, tied up to a large pine tree, a young man who could not be much\nover thirty and of extraordinary strength. The face of the captive\nexpressed hate and ferocity, his body was of an enormous build, while\nhis arms and legs were like trunks of pine trees, so large and brown and\nmuscular were they. His hair was a rough and matted shock, and the eyes\nglared as if they would start from their sockets. Indeed to Raiko the\nwild creature looked more like a demon than a human being.\n\n\"Well, Yorinobu!\" said Raiko, \"the occasion of your feast is to say the\nleast unusual; it must certainly have given you some sport to catch that\nwild creature; but tell me who he is that you have got tied up out\nthere.\"\n\n\"Have you not heard of Kidomaru, the notorious robber?\" answered\nYorinobu. \"There he is! One of my men captured him out on the hills; he\nfound him asleep. The town has long been clamouring for him. He has a\nbig score to settle at last. For to-night I intend to keep him tied up\nlike that, and to-morrow I shall hand him over to the law! Come, let us\nbe merry, for the dinner is served!\"\n\nRaiko clapped his hands when he heard of the great feat Yorinobu and his\nmen had accomplished in catching the fearful robber, the terror of whose\nlawless deeds had long held the people of Kyoto trembling with fear and\ndread. The outlaw Kidomaru was caught at last and by his own brother\nYorinobu! This was an event of rejoicing and congratulation for the\nfamily.\n\n\"You have certainly done a meritorious service to your country,\" said\nhe, \"but it is ridiculous to tie such a creature up with a rope only.\nYou might just as well think of tying up a wild cow with a fine\nkite-string. It would be less dangerous. Take my advice, Yorinobu, put a\nstrong iron chain round him, or the murderer will soon be at large\nagain.\"\n\nYorinobu thought his brother's advice wise, so he clapped his hands.\nWhen the servant came to answer the summons, he ordered him to bring an\niron chain. When this was brought, he went into the garden, followed by\nRaiko and his men, and wound it round Kidomaru's body several times,\nsecuring it at last to a post with a padlock.\n\nKidomaru up to this time had rejoiced at his light bonds. He was so\nstrong that he knew he could easily break a rope, and he had waited but\nfor the nightfall to make good his escape under cover of the darkness.\nYou can imagine how great was his anger at Raiko's interference, which\nwas the cause of his being treated with so much severity that his\nprojected escape would now be difficult.\n\n\"Hateful man!\" muttered Kidomaru to himself. \"I will surely punish you\nfor what you have done to me! Remember!\" and he threw evil glances at\nRaiko.\n\nBut the brave warrior cared little for the wild robber's malignant\nglances; he only laughed when he noticed them, and, as the chain was\ndrawn tighter round the robber, he said: \"That's right! That chain will\nhold him sure enough! You must run no risk of his escaping this time!\"\n\nThen he and Yorinobu returned to the house, and dinner was served and\nthe two brothers made merry the whole evening, talking over old times,\nand it was late before they retired to rest.\n\nNow Kidomaru knew that Raiko slept in Yorinobu's house, and he made up\nhis mind to try to slay him that night, for he was mad with wrath at\nwhat Raiko had done to him.\n\n\"He shall see what I can do!\" growled Kidomaru to himself, shaking his\nrough and shaggy head like a big long-haired terrier. He waited quietly\ntill every one in the house had gone to rest and all was silent. Then\nKidomaru arose, cramped and stiff from sitting tied up so long. With a\nmighty effort he flung out his great arms, laughing defiance at the\nchain that bound him. So great was his strength that no second effort\nwas needed; the chain broke and fell clanking to the ground at once, and\nKidomaru, like a large hound, shook himself free from his bonds. Softly\nas a mouse he approached the house and climbed on to the roof, and with\none tremendous blow from his huge fist, he broke through the tiles and\nthe boards to the ceiling. His plan was to jump down upon Raiko while he\nlay sleeping, and taking him unawares suddenly to cut off his head. But\nthe warrior had lain down to rest expecting such an attack, and he had\nslept but lightly. As soon as he heard the noise above him, he was wide\nawake in an instant, and to warn his enemy he coughed and cleared his\nthroat. Kidomaru was a man of fierce and dauntless character, and he was\nnot in the least thrown back in his purpose by finding that Raiko was\nawake. He went on with his work of making a hole large enough in the\nceiling to let himself through to the room beneath.\n\nRaiko now sat up and clapped his hands loudly to summon his men, who\nslept in an adjoining room. Watanabe, the chief man-at-arms, came out to\nsee what his master wanted.\n\n\"Watanabe,\" said Raiko, \"my sleep has been disturbed by something moving\nin the ceiling. It may be a weasel, for weasels are noisy creatures. It\ncannot be a rat, for a rat is not large enough to make so much noise. At\nany rate, it seems impossible to sleep to-night, so saddle the horses\nand get all the men ready to start. I will get up and ride out to the\nTemple of Mount Kurama. I want all the men to accompany me.\"\n\nPerched between the roof and the ceiling, the robber heard all this, and\nsaid to himself: \"What ho! Raiko goes to Kurama! That is good news!\nInstead of wasting my time here like a rat in a trap, I will set out for\nKurama immediately and get there before those stupid men can, and I will\nwaylay them and kill them all.\" So Kidomaru crawled out on the roof\nagain, let himself down to the ground, and hurried with all the speed he\ncould make to Kurama.\n\nA large plain had to be crossed in going from the city to Kurama, and\nhere a number of wild cattle had their home. When Kidomaru, on his way\nto Kurama, came to this spot, a plan flashed across his mind by which he\ncould steal a march on Raiko. He soon caught one of the big oxen a blow\non the head. Three blows one after the other, and the ox fell dead at\nthe robber's feet. Kidomaru then proceeded to strip off its skin. It was\nvery hard work, but he managed to do it quickly, so strong was he, and\nthen throwing the hide over himself he lay down completely disguised, a\nman in a bull's hide, and waited for Raiko and his men to come.\n\nHe had not long to wait. Raiko, followed by his four braves, soon came\nin sight. The warrior reined in his horse when he came to the plain and\nsaw the cattle. He turned to his men and said: \"Here is a place where we\nmay find some sport. Instead of going on to Kurama, let us stay here and\nhave some hunting! Look at the wild cattle!\"\n\nThe four retainers with one accord all gladly agreed to their chief's\nproposal, for they loved sport and adventure just as much as Raiko and\nwere glad of an excuse to show their skill as huntsmen. The sun was just\nrising, and the prospect of a fine morning added zest to the pastime.\nEach man prepared his bow and arrows in readiness to begin the chase.\n\nBut the cattle, thus disturbed, did not enjoy the sport. Man's play was\ntheir death indeed. One of their number had been killed by Kidomaru, and\nnow they were attacked by Raiko and his men, who came riding furiously\ninto their midst, shooting at them with bows and arrows. With angry\nsnorts, whisking their tails on high and butting with their horns, they\nran to right and left. In the general stampede that followed their\nattack, the hunters noticed that one animal lay still in the tall\ngrass. At first they thought it must be either lame or ill, so they took\nno notice of it, and left it alone till Raiko came riding up. He went up\nand looked at it carefully, and then ordered one of his men to shoot it.\n\nThe man obeyed, and taking his bow, shot an arrow at the recumbent\nanimal. The arrow did not hit the mark; for, to the astonishment of the\nfour hunters, the hide was flung aside and out stepped the robber\nKidomaru.\n\n\"You, Raiko! It is you, is it?\" exclaimed he. \"Do you know that I have a\nspite against you?\" and with these words he darted forward and attacked\nRaiko with a dagger. But Raiko did not even move in his saddle. He drew\nhis sword and, adroitly guarding himself, exchanged two or three strokes\nwith the robber, and then slashed off his head. But wonderful to relate,\nso strong was the will that animated Kidomaru that though his head was\ncut off, his body stood up straight and firm till his right arm, still\nholding the dagger, struck at Raiko's saddle. Then, and not till then,\nit collapsed. It is said that the warriors were all greatly impressed by\nthe malevolent spirit of the robber, which was strong enough to stir the\nbody to action even after the head had been severed from the shoulders.\n\nSuch was the death of the notorious robber Kidomaru, at the hands of the\nbrave warrior Raiko who was awarded much praise for the clever way in\nwhich he drew Kidomaru out as far as Kurama to kill him. He had\nunderstood from Kidomaru's evil glances that the robber planned to kill\nhim, and he thus avoided causing trouble in his brother's house. In this\ninstance, as always, Raiko displayed wisdom and bravery.\n\nNo sooner, however, was Kidomaru killed, than news was brought to the\ncapital that another man had arisen who imitated Kidomaru in his daily\ndeeds of robbery and other wicked acts. This robber's name was\nKakamadare.\n\nOne bright moonlight night, Kakamadare was waiting on the plain between\nKyoto and Kurama for travellers to come that way, hoping that luck would\nbring some rich man into his clutches. Presently he heard some one\ncoming towards him playing on a flute. Thinking this somewhat strange,\nhe hid himself in the grass and waited to see who would appear. The\nsweet music drew nearer and nearer, and then the player came in view.\nThe light of the moon made everything as clear as day, and the robber\nsaw a handsome _samurai_ of soldierly aspect, dressed in beautiful\nsilken robes and wearing a long sword at his side.\n\n\"Now's my opportunity; I'm in luck to-night,\" thought the robber, as he\nrose from his hiding-place and stealthily followed the flute-player. As\nhe kept step by step behind him, Kakamadare drew his sword in readiness\nseveral times to cut down his prey, and waited for the chance to strike.\n\nAll at once the _samurai_ turned and looked steadily at the robber, who\nbegan to tremble. Then the knight calmly and coolly resumed his playing,\nas if utterly indifferent to the danger which threatened him. Once more\nthe robber followed, with the intention of cutting the man down, but the\nopportunity for which he waited never came; each time his hand went up\nwith his sword, it as quickly fell to his side. A spirit of high and\nnoble purpose seemed to emanate from the knight, which cowed the man\nbehind and made him weak. For so great is the virtue of the sword that\nin Japan it is an acknowledged fact that all noble swordsmen had this\npower of subduing lesser natures by the spiritual grace which went forth\nfrom them. Indeed the belief in the occult power of the sword was great,\nand it was said that no bad man could keep the possession of a fine\nblade.\n\nKakamadare could not strike. He could not tell the cause of his\nweakness. He thought that it might be the influence of the music. He\nfound himself listening to the gentle strains of the flute, and admiring\nthe skill with which the man played. He noticed the firm and fearless\nair of the knight as he walked and his great nerve. The man knew himself\nto be followed by a robber, yet he showed not the least concern.\nKakamadare tried to turn back now, but he found that he could do\nnothing but follow the man in front of him. In this way the strange pair\nreached the town. Kakamadare now made a great effort to break the spell,\nand was on the point of turning back and trying to escape from the\nstrange, compelling presence, when to his astonishment the _samurai_\nsuddenly wheeled round upon him and said: \"Kakamadare, I thank you for\nyour trouble! You have given me a safe escort!\"\n\nAt this the robber became so terrified that he fell down on his knees\nand was unable to move or speak for some moments. At last, so soon as\nhis tongue found utterance, he said: \"I know not who you are, but I beg\nyou to forgive me! I would have killed you!\"\n\nHe then confessed everything to the knight. He told him of his many\ndeeds of robbery and violence which had made him feared and hated by the\npeople, who thought that he must be a demon, for so cruel and relentless\nwas he that he never showed mercy even to the poorest peasant. \"I have\nnever met any one like you,\" Kakamadare went on to say. \"I promise to\ngive up my life as a robber, and I beg you to take me into your service\nas one of the humblest of your retainers.\"\n\nThe knight led the man home, and gave him some good clothes, telling him\nthat when he again got into straits and wanted money or clothes, he\nmight come a second time to the house, but that it was unwise to show\nsuch contempt for others as to enter into an encounter where he himself\nmight be the injured party.\n\nThis kindness and mercy touched the man's heart, and from that day he\nbecame a reformed man and a law-abiding citizen.\n\nThe knight was none other than Hirai, one of the warriors who\naccompanied Raiko in his successful expedition against the demons of\nOyeyama. There is a saying that \"Brave generals make brave soldiers,\"\nand it is quite true. Raiko was a man of great sagacity and courage, and\nhis band of braves and the knight Hirai, of whom we have just read, were\nlike their master. There were no men in the whole of Japan braver than\nthey. This proves the truth of the old adage.\n\nThere is another story about the General Raiko which you may like to\nhear. The sword with which Raiko slew Kidomaru was called the Kumokiri,\nor Spider-cutting Sword, and about the naming of this blade there is an\ninteresting story.\n\nIt happened at one time that Raiko was unwell and was obliged to keep\nhis room. Every night at about twelve a little acolyte would come to his\nbedside, and in a kind and gentle way pour out and give him some\nmedicine to take. Raiko noticed that he did not know the boy, but as\nthere were many underlings in the servants' quarters whom he never saw,\nthis did not strike him as strange. But Raiko, instead of recovering,\nfound himself growing weaker and weaker, and especially after taking the\nmedicine he always felt worse.\n\nAt last one day he spoke to his head servant and asked him who it was\nthat brought him medicine every night, but the attendant answered that\nhe knew nothing about the medicine and that there was no acolyte in the\nhouse.\n\nRaiko now suspected some supernatural snare. \"Some malevolent being is\ntaking advantage of my illness and trying to bewitch me or to cause my\ndeath. When the boy comes again to-night I will find out his real form.\nHe may be a fox or goblin in disguise!\" said Raiko.\n\nSo he waited for the appearance of the acolyte, wondering what the\nstrange incident could mean.\n\nWhen midnight came, the boy, as usual, appeared, bringing with him the\nusual cup of medicine. The knight calmly took the cup from the boy and\nsaid, \"Thank you for your trouble!\" but instead of swallowing the false\nmedicine, he threw it, cup and all, at the boy's head. Then jumping up\nhe seized the sword that lay beside his bed and cut at the impostor. As\nthe blade fell, the acolyte screamed with rage and pain, then, with a\nmovement as quick as lightning, before he turned to escape from the\nroom, he threw something at the knight, which, marvellous to relate, as\nhe threw, spread outwards pyramidically into a large white sticky web\nwhich fell over Raiko and clung to him so that he could hardly move.\nRaiko whirled his sword round and cut the clinging meshes and freed\nhimself; again the goblin threw a web over him, and again Raiko cut the\nenmeshing threads away; once more the huge spider's web--for such it\nwas--was thrown over him, and then the goblin fled. Raiko called for his\nmen and then sank exhausted on his bed.\n\nHis chief retainer, answering the summons, met the acolyte in the\ncorridor, and thinking it strange that an unknown priest, however young,\nshould come from his master's room at that hour of the night, stopped\nhim with drawn sword.\n\nThe goblin answered not a word, but threw his entangling web over the\nman and mysteriously disappeared.\n\nNow thoroughly alarmed, the retainer hastened to Raiko. Great was his\nconsternation when he saw his master, with the meshes of the goblin's\nweb still clinging to him.\n\n\"See!\" exclaimed Raiko, pointing to the threads still clinging to his\nman and himself, \"a goblin spider has been here!\"\n\nHe then gave orders to hunt down the goblin, but the thing could nowhere\nbe found. On the white mats and along the corridors they found as they\nsearched red drops of blood, which showed that the creature had been\nwounded.\n\nRaiko's men followed the red trail, out into the garden, across the city\nto the hills, till they came to a cave, and here the blood-drops ceased.\nGroans and cries of pain issued from the cave, so the warriors felt sure\nthat they had come to the end of their hunt.\n\n\"The goblin is surely hiding in that cave!\" they all said. Drawing their\nswords, they entered the cave and found a monster spider writhing with\npain and bleeding from a deep sword-cut on the head. They at once killed\nthe creature and carried it to Raiko.\n\nThe knight had often heard stories of these dreadful spiders, but had\nnever seen one before.\n\n\"It was this goblin spider then that wanted to prey upon me! The net\nthat was thrown over me was a spider's web! Of all my adventures this is\nthe strangest!\" said Raiko.\n\nThat night Raiko ordered a banquet to be prepared for all his retainers\nin honour of the event, and he drank to the health of his five brave\nmen.\n\nFrom that time the acolyte never appeared and Raiko recovered his health\nand strength at once.\n\nSuch is the story of the _Kumokiri_ Sword. _Kumo_ means \"spider,\" and\n_kiri_ means \"cutting,\" and it was so named because it cut to death the\ngoblin spider who haunted the brave knight Raiko.\n\n\n[Illustration: THEY ENTERED THE CAVE AND FOUND A MONSTER SPIDER]\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF THE POTS OF PLUM, CHERRY, AND PINE\n\n\nLong, long ago, in the reign of the Emperor Go-Fukakusa, there lived a\nfamous Regent of the name of Saimyoji Tokiyori. Of all the Hojo Regents\nhe was the wisest and justest, and was known far and wide among the\npeople for his deeds of mercy. At the age of thirty, Tokiyori resigned\nthe regency in favour of his son Tokimune, who was only six years old.\nHe then retired to a monastery for several years. Sometimes stories\nreached his ears of the miscarriage of justice, of the cruelty of the\nofficials under him, and of the suffering of the peasants, and he\ndetermined to find out for himself if all these things were true. It was\nthe desire of his life to see the people governed wisely and justly and\nimpartially, to deal reward and punishment fairly alike to the rich and\nthe poor, to the great and the lowly. After much thought he decided that\nthe best way to achieve his end would be to find out for himself the\ncondition of the people, so he determined that he would disguise himself\nand travel about amongst them unknown. He had it given out that he was\ndead, and had a mock funeral performed with all the pomp and ceremony\ndue to his exalted rank. He then left Kamakura disguised as a travelling\npriest unknown to any one.\n\nAfter journeying from place to place, he came one day to Sano, in the\nprovince of Kozuki. It was in the depth of winter, and on this day he\nfound himself overtaken by a heavy snowstorm. There were no houses near.\nTokiyori then ascended a hill, but even from that height, search as he\nmight, he could see no sign of any dwelling, near or far. Confused and\nlost, he wandered about for hours. The darkness began to fall when he\nfound himself in a hilly district. Tired and hungry, he resigned himself\nto passing the night under the shelter of a tree, when suddenly he\nespied in the distance the brown line of a thatch-roofed cottage\nbreaking the white slope at the foot of the nearest hill. He made his\nway quickly towards it and knocked at the closed storm-doors.\n\nTokiyori heard some one move within and then come to the porch. The\nstorm-shutter was pushed aside and a beautiful woman looked out.\n\n\"I have lost my way in the storm, and know not what to do! Will you be\nso kind as to give me the shelter of your roof this night?\" said\nTokiyori.\n\nThe woman scanned the traveller from head to foot. Then she said: \"I am\nvery sorry for you. I would willingly give you shelter, but my husband\nbeing absent I must not let you in. You had better go on to the next\nvillage of Yamamoto, which is very near, and there you will find a good\ninn and accommodation for travellers!\"\n\n\"You are right,\" answered Tokiyori; \"but alas! I am so tired that I can\nwalk no more. For pity's sake, let me sleep on the verandah or in your\nstorehouse; for so much shelter I shall be grateful.\"\n\n\"I am indeed sorry to refuse you,\" answered the woman; \"but in the\nabsence of my husband I must not give shelter to a strange traveller.\nWere he at home, he would with pleasure take you in and give you lodging\nfor the night. Try to make your way to the next village.\"\n\nTokiyori, greatly impressed by her virtuous and modest behaviour, bowed\nand said as he took his leave: \"There is no help for it! I must try to\nreach Yamamoto, since you cannot shelter me to-night.\"\n\nSo the ex-Regent of Kamakura, spent and cold and hungry, turned once\nmore to meet the inclement weather. He took the direction pointed out to\nhim and plodded on through the snow. But alas! the storm had increased\nin violence, and the snow fell faster and faster, and the wind howled\nacross the white drifts, whirling clouds of snow in his face till at\nlast he found it impossible to go on. He stood still in the storm, not\nknowing what to do. Exerting all his strength, he found it difficult to\nput one foot before the other. Just as he began to give himself up for\nlost, he heard a voice calling him from behind.\n\n\"Stop! stop!\" at first faintly, then gradually the cries grew nearer and\nmore distinct.\n\nWondering who else could be out in such merciless weather, Tokiyori\nturned in the direction whence the cries came and saw a man beckoning to\nhim to turn back.\n\n\"Are you calling me?\" asked Tokiyori.\n\n\"Yes indeed,\" replied the man; \"I am the husband of the woman who turned\nyou away from that cottage just now. I regret that I was not at home to\noffer you the poor hospitality that is all I have to give. Please turn\nback with me. I can at least give you shelter for the night, though my\nhouse is only a small hut. You will be frozen to death if you go on in\nthis storm.\"\n\nThe priest rejoiced when he heard these kind words, and as he turned\nback with his host he uttered many words of thanks. When they entered\nthe porch, the woman whom he had already seen came forward and welcomed\nthe stranger cordially, apologizing for her former behaviour.\n\n\"I pray you pardon me,\" she said, bowing to the ground, \"for my rude\nwords a short time ago; but now that my husband has returned I hope you\nwill pass the night under our humble roof. I beg you not to be angry\nwith me, knowing the custom of these times.\"\n\n\"Don't mention it, my good woman,\" replied the priest in disguise. \"It\nwas quite right of you to refuse me admittance in your husband's\nabsence. I admire your prudent conduct.\"\n\nWhile the priest and the hostess were thus exchanging civilities, her\nhusband had entered the little sitting-room and arranged some cotton\ncushions on the mat. Having done this, he came out to usher in the\nguest.\n\n\"Thank you,\" answered the priest, taking off his snow-covered hat and\nrain-coat; and, slipping his feet out of the sandals, he entered the\nhouse.\n\nThe host turned again to his guest and said: \"Now, as you see, I am a\nvery poor man and I cannot give you a good dinner such as the rich can\noffer, but to our coarse, simple fare, such as it is, you are very\nwelcome.\"\n\nThe priest bowed to the ground and said that he would be grateful for\nany food that would stay his hunger; he had walked all day in the cold\nand had eaten nothing since breaking his fast in the early morning.\n\nMeanwhile the wife busied herself in the kitchen, and as it was now the\nhour of sunset, the meal was soon ready to be served. The priest noticed\nthat millet instead of rice filled the bowls, and that there was not a\nsign of fish in the soup, which was made of vegetables only. The\ndisguised ex-Regent had never eaten such coarse food in his life before,\nfor millet is the poorest peasant's fare; but \"Hunger needs no sauce,\"\nsays the proverb, and so Tokiyori was surprised to find with how great a\nrelish he could eat what was set before him, for he was ravenously\nhungry. Never had food tasted so sweet to him before. He long remembered\nthe sensation of pleasant surprise as he partook of the first mouthful.\nThe good wife waited on them during the meal, according to Japanese\ncustom.\n\nWhen supper was over, they all sat round the hearth, talking of the good\nold times and telling each other amusing stories to while away the time.\nThe hours flew quickly by and it was midnight before the host and his\nguest knew it. The fire had burned very low without their noticing it,\nand they began to shiver with cold. The host turned to the fuel-box, but\nall the charcoal and wood had been burned up. Then the host arose, and,\nregardless of the falling snow and the bitter cold, went into the garden\nand brought thence three pots of dwarfed trees, for the training of\nwhich Japanese gardeners are famous all the world over.\n\n\"On such a winter's night a good fire is necessary for the entertainment\nof a traveller, but, alas! all the charcoal has been used up and I have\nno more in the house. To warm you before you retire I will therefore\nbum these trees!\"\n\n\"What!\" said the astonished guest, for he saw that the trees were of no\ncommon kind, but were of some value, for they were old, and their\ntraining showed the skill of an experienced gardener; \"these pine, plum,\nand cherry trees are too good to be used as fuel--they are finely\ntrained. No! no! you mustn't burn them for me--they are far too\nvaluable!\"\n\n\"Don't trouble yourself,\" said the host. \"I loved them once when I was\nrich and had many more such valuable trees in my possession. But now\nthat I am ruined and living in this miserable condition, of what use are\nsuch trees to me, pray tell me?\" and with these words he began to break\nup the trees and to put the pieces on the fire. \"If they could speak, I\nam sure they would say how pleased they were to be used for such a good\npurpose as your comfort!\"\n\nThe disguised ex-Regent smiled as he watched the kind man break up his\npet trees, and make up the fire. Since Tokiyori had first entered the\nhouse, small and poverty-stricken though it was, he had felt that his\nhost was no common farmer as he pretended to be; that he must be a man\nin reduced circumstances.\n\n\"I feel sure,\" said the priest, \"that you are no farmer by birth; indeed\nin you I recognize the a courtesy and breeding of a _samurai_ [a\nknight]. Will you add one more favour to the rest you have shown me this\nnight and tell me your real name?\"\n\n\"Alas,\" answered the farmer in disguise, \"I cannot do so without shame.\"\n\n\"Do not trifle with me,\" said the priest, \"for I am very much in\nearnest. Tell me who you are. I should very much like to know.\"\n\nPressed so earnestly to reveal himself, the host could no longer refuse.\n\n\"Since you wish so earnestly to know, I will tell who I am, without\nreserve,\" he answered. \"I am no farmer, as you rightly guessed. I am in\nreality a _samurai_, and my name is Sano Genzaemon Tsuneyo.\"\n\n\"Indeed? Are you Sano Genzaemon Tsuneyo? I have heard of you. You are a\n_samurai_ of high rank, I know. But tell me, how is it that you are now\nin such reduced circumstances?\"\n\n\"Oh, that is a long story,\" replied Sano. \"It was through the dishonesty\nof an unworthy relation. He seized my property, little by little,\nwithout my knowing it, and one day I found that he had taken everything\nand that I was left with nothing except this farmhouse and the land on\nwhich it stands.\"\n\n\"I am sorry for you,\" said Tokiyori; \"but why haven't you brought a\nlawsuit against your relation? Were you to do that, I am sure you would\nrecover your lost property.\"\n\n\"Oh yes, I have thought of that,\" said the farmer; \"but now that\nTokiyori, the just Regent, has died, and as Tokimune his successor is\nvery young, I felt that it was useless to present my petition, so that I\ndetermined to resign myself to poverty. But though I live and work like\na farmer, in heart and soul I am still a _samurai_. Should war break out\nor even a call to arms be sounded, I shall be the first to go to\nKamakura, wearing my armour, dilapidated and torn though it may be,\ncarrying my halberd, rusty as it is, and riding my old horse, emaciated\nand unpresentable though he is, and I will do glorious deeds once more\nand die a knight's death. I never for one moment forget my ambition.\nThis alone buoys me up through all my trouble and poverty,\" he added\ncheerfully, looking up at his listener with a smile.\n\n\"Your purpose is a good one, and worthy of a true _samurai_,\" said the\npriest, and he smiled and looked at the knight intently. \"I prophesy\nthat you will rise in life in the near future, and I feel sure that I\nshall see you and congratulate you at Kamakura on obtaining your heart's\ndesire.\"\n\nWhile they were talking, the night had passed and day began to break.\nThe snow had ceased to fall, and as Sano and his guest rose to open the\nstorm-doors, the sun rose bright and shining on a silvered world.\n\nThe priest went to put on his rain-coat and hat.\n\n\"Thank you,\" he said, \"for all the kindness and hospitality you have\nshown me. I will say good-bye. Now that the storm has ceased, I need\ntrespass no longer on your goodness; I will be getting on my way!\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the knight, \"why need you hurry so? At least stay one more\nday with us, for you seem to me no longer a stranger but a friend, and I\nam loth to see you depart.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" replied the priest, \"but I must hurry on. I take my leave,\nhowever, with the firm conviction that fate will give us the pleasure of\nmeeting again ere long. Remember my words. Good-bye!\" And thus speaking,\nwith several bows the priest turned from the porch and wended his way\nthrough the snow.\n\nWhen he had gone the knight remembered that he had forgotten to ask the\ntraveller's name, so he and his wife would probably never know who the\nsympathetic stranger was.\n\nThe next spring the Government at Kamakura issued a proclamation calling\nupon all knights to present themselves in battle-array before the\nRegent. When Sano Genzaemon heard of this, he thought that some\nextraordinary event must have taken place. What it was he could not\nimagine. But he was a knight and must answer the summons promptly. Here\nmight be the chance of proving his knightly prowess, for which he had\nbeen waiting so long, hidden away in obscurity and the poverty of his\ncircumstances. The only thing that weighed him down was the thought that\nhe had no money either to buy a new suit of armour or a good horse. No\nhesitation, however, showed itself in the despatch with which he\nhastened to Kamakura, clothed only in his suit of shabby armour, a rusty\nhalberd in hand, and riding an old broken-down horse, unattended by any\nservant.\n\nWhen Sano reached Kamakura, he found the city crowded with warriors who\nwere riding in from all parts of the country. There were thousands of\ngreat and eminent _samurai_ clothed from head to foot in beautiful\narmour, their suits, their helmets, and their swords glittering with\nornamentation of silver and gold. It was a goodly sight that the sun\nshone on that day, framed by the great pine trees against the background\nof the glimmering sea beyond. The pride of life and race were there, the\nhauteur of birth and rank, the glory and parade of war, the glinting of\nhelmet and clanking of steel,--every knight's armour was composed of\nfine metal scales woven and held together by silken threads of ruby,\nemerald, scarlet, sapphire, and gold. Each knight wore his favourite\ncolour, and as the ranks moved into the sunlight or fell into the shade\nthe whole formed an army of moving splendour, the brilliant and\nvariegated colouring of which was like a river of rich and magnificent\nbrocade.\n\nAs Sano, clothed in his shabby armour and riding his broken-down horse,\nrode in amongst the bright phalanx of warriors, how they all jeered and\nscoffed at him and his horse! But Sano cared little for their scorn, the\nconsciousness that he was a _samurai_ as good as most of them bore him\nup, and he laughed to himself at their pride and swagger.\n\n\"These men wear fine armour, it is true,\" he said to himself, \"but they\nhave lost the true _samurai_ spirit; their hearts are corrupt or they\nwould not glory so in appearance; though my armour cannot compare with\ntheirs, yet in loyalty I can never be outdone, even by them, braggers\nthough they be.\"\n\nAs these thoughts passed through his mind, Sano saw a herald approaching\nthe gay concourse of knights. He rode a richly caparisoned horse, and he\nheld aloft a banner bearing the house-crest of the Regent. The warriors,\ntheir armour and their swords clanging as they moved, parted to the\nright and left, leaving a road for him to pass. As he rode up their\nlines he called aloud: \"The Regent summons to his presence the knight\nwho wears the shabbiest armour and who rides the most broken-down\nhorse!\"\n\nWhen Sano heard these words he thought:\n\n\"There is no soldier here but myself clothed in old armour. Alas! the\nGovernor will reprimand it me for daring to appear in such a state. It\ncan't be helped; come what will, I obey the summons--such is my duty!\"\n\nSo with a sinking heart Sano, the dilapidated knight, followed the\nherald to the Governor's house. Here the messenger announced that the\nknight Sano Genzaemon had come in answer to the proclamation summoning\nthe poorest-clothed knight to the Regent.\n\n\"I am the poorest knight here, so the required man can be none other\nthan myself,\" said Sano, as he bowed low to the retainers who came out\nto receive him at the porch.\n\nSano was then ushered along endless corridors and through spacious\nrooms. At last the ushering officer knelt on the polished wood outside a\nlarge room, and, pushing back the white paper screen, told him to enter.\nThe knight found himself in the presence of the handsome young General\nTokimune. On his head he wore a helmet with golden horns and the small\nplates of his armour were woven together with silken threads of scarlet.\n\nThe young General bowed to the knight in answer to his prostrations and\nsaid: \"Are you the knight Sano Genzaemon Tsuneyo?\"\n\n\"Yes, I am he,\" answered Sano.\n\n\"Then,\" answered the young man, \"I have to present you to some one!\"\nand he made a sign to an attendant.\n\nUpon this the servant pushed open the screens of an inner room, and the\nRegent Saimyoji Tokiyori, who had been reported dead for a year, was\nrevealed, magnificently dressed in his robes of office. Over his armour\nhe wore a sacerdotal robe of rich brocade, and on his head a white\nhead-dress.\n\nBewildered by all the strange things that were happening to him, and\nfearful of he knew not what, the knight had kept his face to the ground.\nHe heard the rattle of armour and the swish of heavy silk moving towards\nhim over the mats, and he wondered if it were not all a dream.\n\nThen a voice said: \"Oh, Sano Genzaemon--is it you? It is long since I\nsaw you! Look up! Don't be afraid! Don't you know me?\"\n\nThe poor knight knew at once that he had heard that voice before, and at\nlast found courage to raise his head and to look at the resplendent\nfigure that addressed him.\n\nAn exclamation of surprise burst from the lips of Sano, for he\nrecognized in the personage who addressed him the priest whom he had\nsheltered on the night of the great snowstorm a year agone.\n\n\"You are surely,\" said Sano after a pause, \"the travelling priest who\npassed that night of the great snowstorm under my roof last year, are\nyou not?\"\n\n\"Yes, I am that priest, and also I am the Regent Saimyoji Tokiyori.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" exclaimed Sano, bowing to the ground, \"pardon my rudeness to you\nthat night, for I did not know who my august visitor was,\" and his heart\nfilled with fear at the remembrance of his unceremonious behaviour on\nthat occasion.\n\nThen the ex-Regent spoke again, and this time solemnly: \"Sir Sano, you\nhave no need to apologize, far from that. Do you remember what you said\nto me that night when the snowstorm took me to your house? You told me\nthat through unfortunate circumstances you were now obliged to work like\na farmer, yet if ever the occasion arose that should sound the call of\nknights to arms, you would, regardless of your shabby accoutrements,\nanswer the summons and come forth in the spirit of a _samurai_ to do\nglorious deeds worthy of your sword once more before you died! Herewith\nI give you back the thirty villages in the district of Sano, of which\nyou were robbed by your unworthy kinsman. And do you think I have\nforgotten your kind action when you burned your precious trees, the last\nrelics of your prosperous past, to minister to my comfort during that\nterrible storm? The glow of that fire remains in my heart to this day.\nBy way of expressing my thanks for your hospitality that cold and dreary\nnight, in return for the _Matsu_ [pine tree], I am going to give you\nthe village of _Matsu-ida_, in the province of Kodzuke; in the place of\nthe _Ume_ [plum tree], the village of _Umeda_, in the province of Kaga;\nand for the _Sakura_ [cherry tree], you shall have _Sakurai_, a village\nin the province of Etchiu.\"\n\nAs the knight listened to these golden words of fortune, which dropped\nlike jewels from the mouth of the beneficent Regent, it seemed to him as\nif he must be dreaming, it was all so unexpected. He could not speak,\nfor the tears rose to his eyes, and sobs of joy choked his utterance.\nWhen at last he looked up, he was alone. He made his way out of the\nmansion as in a trance, oblivious of all around him. The news of his\npromotion and of the favour he enjoyed in the estimation of the Regent\nhad already spread outside, and the men who had laughed and jeered at\nhim before now smiled graciously and bowed respectfully as he passed\nalong the ranks.\n\nSo Sano Genzaemon returned to Kodzuke, not as a poor farmer, but as a\nlord under the special favour of the Regent, having won the esteem of\nall his countrymen by his knightly conduct in adversity.\n\nAll rejoiced that faithfulness, honesty, and kindness had received their\njust reward, and none more than the good Regent Tokiyori.\n\n\n\n\nSHIRAGIKU, OR WHITE CHRYSANTHEMUM\n\n\nOn the outskirts of a remote village at the foot of Mount Aso, in\nKiushiu, a bell was slowly pealing from a Buddhist temple. It was the\nseason of autumn and the twilight was falling fast. Over the lonely\nplace and the gloom of the deepening dusk of night the solemn music,\nreverberating across the hills, seemed to toll the transientness of all\nthings earthly.\n\nNot far from the temple was a small cottage. At the door stood a young\ngirl anxiously waiting for her father to come home. From time to time\nshe wiped away the tears which fell from her eyes, and her face and\nattitude expressed great sorrow. She was but fifteen years of age, and\nas she stood there, a young and slender figure, she looked like a\ncherry-blossom of spring in the falling rain.\n\nShe was alone, for her father had gone out to hunt some days before and\nhad never returned, and she had had no tidings whatever of him since.\nShe and her father were all in all to each other; her mother was dead\nand her elder brother was only a name to her; she could not remember\nhim; he had run away from home when she was a small child, and no one\nknew what had become of him since.\n\nAs White Chrysanthemum, her heart full of sorrow and foreboding, watched\nand waited for her father's return, she started at everything,--at the\nleaves falling from the trees, at the sighing of the wind in their\nbranches, at the dropping of the water from the bamboo pipe which\nbrought the hill-stream to the house; as these different sounds from\ntime to time caught her ear expectation made her hope that they might be\nthe footsteps of her father coming home. But the hours passed by and\nstill he did not return.\n\nAs the mists rose and the clouds began to close over the mountain, the\nloneliness of the scene was deepened by the plaint of insects chirruping\nin the grass, and by the slow pattering on the broad banana palm leaves\nof the rain just beginning to fall.\n\nAt last the dreariness and stillness of approaching night oppressed the\ngirl so much that she could bear it no longer, and she made up her mind\nto go in search of her father.\n\nIt was a sad sight to see her as she ran out from the bamboo gate and\nturned to give a last look at the little home nestling in the shelter of\nthe pine trees. Then resolutely she turned away and set her face towards\nthe mountain path. On her head she wore a large mushroom-shaped\nrainhat, and with a stick in her hand she began to climb up the rough\nthorny pass into the depths of the mountains, as they towered range upon\nrange one above the other and were lost in the distance and blackness of\nnight.\n\nThe rain fell more and more heavily, and as the girl stumbled up the\nsteep pass she had often to wring her sleeves, which were now wet with\nrain as well as with tears. So absorbed was White Chrysanthemum in the\nthought of finding her father, whom she had watched climb this very road\nthree mornings before, that she hardly noticed that the storm gave signs\nof lifting. Suddenly the rain ceased, the clouds cleared, and the moon\nshone brightly. The change in the weather at last roused the girl to\nlook about her, and she saw that the path now led her downward to the\nvalley. With a sigh of relief she quickened her pace.\n\nShe had walked for about two hours when she saw at some distance in\nfront of her a single yellow ray of light shining through the gloom. Had\nshe come to a house where she might possibly hear tidings of her father?\nAs this hope dawned upon her, she eagerly hastened towards the light.\n\nShe soon reached an old Buddhist temple standing in the shadow of a\ngroup of pines and cryptomerias. From within came a voice chanting the\nBuddhist scriptures. Who could it be studying in so remote a place at\nthat hour of the night?\n\nShiragiku entered the gate and in the moonlight which made everything\nvisible saw that the whole place was in a dilapidated condition; the\nfence was falling in many places, weeds grew all over the garden and\nbetween the flagstones, as if no one ever trod the path; even the posts\nwhich supported the gate shook in the wind.\n\nWhite Chrysanthemum walked up to the porch and knocked on the heavy\nwooden door. Not until she had knocked and called several times did she\nhear any stir within; then some one answered in a subdued voice, the\nstorm-shutters were pushed aside, and a young bonze appeared. He started\nwhen his eyes fell upon the girl, and he stared at her silently as if\nwondering who she could be or what had brought her there at that hour.\n\nShiragiku, seeing his scrutiny, drew near and said in a low sweet voice:\n\"I am looking for my father. He went out hunting some days ago and has\nnever come back. I am indeed sorry to trouble you, but will you be so\nkind as to tell me if any one has come to this temple either for rest or\nfood within the last two or three days?\"\n\nThe girl spoke so quietly and looked at him so gently that the young\nbonze was reassured in a moment. Her evident distress appealed to him,\nand when he looked at her again he saw that she was as beautiful as a\nflower; her skin was white as snow, her jet-black hair, disordered by\nthe storm through which she had passed, fell like the graceful branches\nof a willow tree over her shoulders; her large almond eyes were sad and\nfull of tears, and as he gazed upon her it seemed to him that she could\nnot belong to the earth, that she must be a _tennin_--an angel from the\nBuddhist Heaven. He asked her to enter the temple and said: \"Tell me who\nyou are and whence you come, and what brings you out this stormy night.\nI will listen to your story if you will tell it to me.\"\n\nThe wind had risen again and was blowing in gusts round the temple and\nwhistling through the chinks and crannies of the old building, while\nfrom the garden came the mournful cries of an owl. The desolation and\nstrangeness of the place touched the girl's sorrow to the quick, and she\nburst into tears. As soon as she was able to speak, she wiped her eyes\nand said between her sobs: \"I am the daughter of a certain _samurai_ of\nKumamoto City. Our house was once rich and prosperous, and our hearts\nwere full of joy; we lived happily, knowing nothing whatever of care or\nsorrow. When the war[1] broke out all was changed; the grass round our\nhouse was stained with blood, and even the wind smelt of blood;\nfamilies were scattered far and wide from the homes where they were\nborn, and the air was rent with the cries of parents seeking their lost\nchildren and of children calling for their parents who could no longer\nhear them. Pity is no word to express the feeling which filled the heart\nat these sights. My father likewise went to the war, and my mother then\nescaped with me as far as Mount Aso. There she found a tiny cottage in\nthe shadow of the temple, and with the money she had managed to bring\nwith her we lived as best we could. As we were afterward told, my father\nfought with the rebels. When we heard that, we were greatly astonished,\nand our sleeves were never dry with wiping away our tears. Day by day,\nmorning, noon, and night, we waited, hoping that my father would\nreturn--thus the summer passed. Autumn came and the wild geese flew\nacross the sky in flocks toward the south, but there came no news of my\nfather. My mother pined away with grief and anxiety, till at last she\ndied. Thus before we knew whether my father was alive or dead, I was\nleft alone in life. I felt as if I were dreaming in a dream. Whenever I\nthink of that time my heart is pierced with sorrow. My days were passed\nin weeping at my misfortunes and in bemoaning my unhappy fate. Had it\nnot been for the kindness of neighbours in the village, I should not\nhave been able to live.\n\n\"Last spring my father came back and found me out. I told him of my\nmother's death. Since then he has never ceased to grieve. I tried to\ncheer him by telling him that it was the fate of all mortals to die, but\nmy words brought him little comfort, and in this sad way we passed our\ntime. The other day he went out hunting, and since then has never\nreturned. Again, I was left alone with no one to look to for help.\nUnable to bear the loneliness any longer, I started out this evening to\nlook for him and have come thus far. Our family name is Honda, my name\nis Shiragiku, my father's name is Akitoshi, my mother's name was Take,\nand my elder brother's Akihide. I can hardly remember Akihide, for when\nI was a small child he ran away, fearing my father's anger because of\nhis bad conduct. But though he left us, my mother and I never forgot\nhim. In the morning when it rained and in the winter evenings when the\nwind blew chill we longed for him to come again to the shelter of his\nhome, but from that day to this we have heard nothing of him and know\nnot what has become of him. My mother gave me many messages for him,\nfirmly believing that one day we should meet again, and that he would\nyet fulfil his duty as a son and restore our house to its former\nprosperity and happiness. In this hope she died.\"\n\nAs Shiragiku proceeded with her story the young bonze listened with\neager attention. At these words his face changed with sudden emotion,\nand the tears fell from his eyes. After some moments he said to her:\n\"Poor, poor girl! Your story is a very sad one, and I feel for you in\nyour many troubles. You can go no further to-night; rest here in peace\nuntil the dawn!\"\n\nAs he spoke it seemed to Shiragiku that his voice was familiar to her,\nand though she could not remember having seen him before, yet for some\nunaccountable reason she felt that he was no stranger. His manner was so\nkind and gentle and sympathetic as he went and came bringing food for\nher supper and quilts for her to sleep upon, that memories of her early\nhome and childhood stirred her heart. Her thoughts went out to the\nrunaway brother; if he would only return he would be about the same age\nas the young bonze, and surely as good as he to any one in distress.\nGlad was she to have found a place of rest for the night. With many\nhumble prostrations she thanked her host for his hospitality, and\napologized for all the trouble she had given him.\n\nWhen he withdrew, bidding her \"good-night,\" she knelt in supplication\nbefore the shrine at the end of the room, where Amida Buddha and\nKwannon, the Goddess of Mercy, reigned in peace above the lotus and the\nburning of incense. Only through the mercy of the gods could she hope\nto find her father, only through their help would her long-lost brother\never come back to those who waited for him year after year. For many\nminutes she knelt on, praying earnestly, then, worn out with grief and\nfatigue, she rose from her knees and lay down to fall fast asleep.\n\nAt the hour when the hush of night is deepest, Shiragiku saw her father\nenter the room and draw near her pillow. The tears stood in his eyes and\nin a sad voice he said: \"Shiragiku, I have fallen over a precipice, and\nnow I am at the bottom of a chasm many hundred feet deep. Here the\nbrambles and bamboo grass grow so thick that I am unable to find my way\nout of the jungle. I may not live till the morrow, so I came to see you\nfor the last time in this world.\"\n\nAs soon as he had finished speaking, White Chrysanthemum stretched out\nher hands and tried to catch hold of his sleeves to detain him, crying:\n\"Father! father!\" But with the sound of her own voice she awoke.\n\nShe sprang up expecting to see her father, but there was nothing in the\nroom except the night-lantern glimmering faintly. While she was\nwondering whether the vision were a dream or a reality, the dawn began\nto break and the beating of a drum throbbed through the temple. White\nChrysanthemum rose soon after sunrise, ate the simple breakfast of rice\nand bean-soup she found slipped into her room, and quickly left the\ntemple. She did not wait to see the kind priest, though he had asked her\nto do so, saying that he would do what he could to help her; for she had\nremembered his diffidence the night before, and thought that very likely\nhe belonged to a sect which forbade its priests to converse with the\nworld, and she felt sorry that she had disturbed him.\n\nHer dream was so vividly real to her that it seemed as if she heard her\nfather calling to her for help; so making all possible speed she set but\nonce more with the faith and simplicity of childhood to find him. Far\noff in the woods the bark of a fox could be heard, while along the path\nthe cloudy tufts of the _obana_[2] rustled as she passed. Shiragiku\nshivered as the cold morning wind pierced through her body. As she\npursued her way along the rough mountain pass wild creatures scuttled\naway, frightened, from before her into the woods, and overhead the birds\nsang to each other in the trees.\n\nAt last she reached the top of the pass, to find it covered with clouds,\nand it seemed to White Chrysanthemum as if they must carry her away with\nthem in their onward sweep. She sat down on a stone to recover her\nbreath, for the climb had been steep. In a few minutes the mists began\nto clear away. She stood up and looked about her, hoping that she might\nfind some trace of her father, but as far as eye could reach nothing but\nmountains, range after range, could be seen riding one above the other\nin the blue sky.\n\nSuddenly a noise in the bushes behind her made White Chrysanthemum\nstart, and before she could flee a band of robbers rushed out upon her.\nThey seized and bound her tightly. She cried out for help, but only the\nechoes answered her. Down the mountain they led her till they reached\nthe valley; for a whole day they hurried her along till they came to a\nstrange-looking house.\n\nThis was in such a neglected condition that moss covered the walls, and\nit was so closely shut up that the sunbeams never entered the rooms.\n\nAs they approached the place, a man who seemed to be the chief of the\nband came out, and as he caught sight of the maiden, said with an evil\nsmile: \"You've brought a good prize this time!\"\n\nThe robbers now untied Shiragiku's hands and led her into the house and\nthen into a room where dinner was prepared, with rice and fish and wine\nin great quantities. Then they all sat down, and as they began to eat,\nit seemed to her that they were a lot of demons. The chief passed some\nfood to her and pressed her to eat. The long walk in the bracing air of\nthe autumn day had made Shiragiku so hungry that in spite of her fear\nand distress she was glad of the food. At last, when she had finished\nher meal, he turned to her and said: \"That you We been caught by my men\nand brought here must be the work of fate. So now you must look upon me\nas your husband and serve me all your life. I have a good _koto_ [the\nJapanese harp] which I keep with great care, and to show your gratitude\nfor this marriage you will have to play before me often and to cheer me\nwith your songs, for I am fond of music. If you refuse to obey me, I\nwill make your life as hard as climbing a mountain of swords or walking\nthrough a forest of needles.\"\n\nShiragiku felt that she would rather die than marry this man, but she\ncould not refuse to play the _koto_ for him. The _koto_ was brought by\none of the men at a word of command from the chief and placed before the\ngirl, who began to strike the chords, her tears falling fast the while.\nShe played so well that even those hard-hearted robbers were touched by\nher music, and one or two of them whispered together that hers was a\nhard fate and they wished that they could find some means of saving her.\n\nOutside the house in the shadow of a large tree stood a young man,\nwatching all that went on and listening to the music. By the voice of\nthe singer as she sang, he knew that the player was she whom he sought.\nNo sooner did the music stop than he rushed into the house and attacked\nthe robbers with great fury. Anger gave strength to his onslaught, and\nthe bandits were so taken by surprise that they were paralyzed with fear\nand offered no resistance. In a few minutes the chief was killed, while\ntwo others lay senseless on the mats, and the rest ran away.\n\nThen the young man, who was dressed in the black vestments of a priest,\ntook the trembling girl by the hand and led her to a window, through\nwhich the moonlight streamed. As Shiragiku gazed up in gratitude and\nwonder at her deliverer, she saw that he was none other than the young\npriest of the temple, who had been so kind to her the night before.\n\n\"Don't be afraid!\" he said quietly and soothingly; \"don't be afraid! I\nam no stranger, I am your brother Akihide. Now I will tell you my story,\nso listen to me. You cannot remember me, for you were only a little\nchild of three when my bad conduct roused my father's anger and I ran\naway from home and started for the capital. I embarked on a small vessel\nand after sailing along for several days I reached Waka-no-ura, passing\nthe island of Awaji on the way. From Waka-no-ura I proceeded on foot. It\nwas the close of spring and the cherry-blossoms were falling, and the\nground was covered with the pink snow of their petals; but there was\nnothing of the joy of spring in my heart, which was heavy at the\nthought of my parents' displeasure and the fearful step I had just\ntaken. As soon as I reached the capital, I put myself under the charge\nof a priest and went through a severe course of study, for I had already\nrepented of my idle ways and longed to do better. Under my good master's\nguidance I learned the way of virtue. My heart was softened by\nknowledge, and when I remembered the love of my parents, I regretted my\nevil past and never did the sun go down but I wept in secret over it. So\nthe years went by. At last the pain of homesickness became so great that\nI determined to return home and beg my parents' forgiveness. I hoped and\nplanned to devote myself to them in their old age and to make amends in\nthe future for the shortcomings of the past. But insurmountable\ndifficulties beset me in my new-formed purpose. War had broken out, and\nthe face of the country was entirely changed. Cities were turned into\nwildernesses, weeds grew tall and thick all over the roads, and when I\nreached our province it was impossible to find either the old home or\nany one who could give me the slightest clue as to the whereabouts of\nyou all. Life became a burden to me. You may imagine something of what I\nfelt, but my tongue fails to describe my misery. I was desolate with no\none belonging to me, so I resolved to forsake the world and become a\npriest, and after wandering about I took up my abode in that old temple\nwhere you found me. But even the religious life could not still my\nremorse. I was haunted by the fear of what had become of my father and\nmother and sister. Were they alive or were they dead? Should I ever see\nthem again? These were the questions which tormented me ceaselessly.\nMorning and evening I prayed before the shrine in the room where you\nslept last night--prayed that I might have news of you all. Great is\nthe mercy of Buddha! Imagine the mingled joy and sorrow I felt when you\ncame yesterday and told me of all that had happened since I left home. I\nwas about to make myself known to you, but I was too ashamed to do so.\nIt was, however, harder for me to conceal my secret than it would have\nbeen to tell it, for I longed to do so with my whole heart and soul. In\nthe morning when I came to the room and found you gone, I followed after\nyou in fear lest you should fall into the hands of the bandits who haunt\nthese hills and thus it was that I saved you. You can never know how\nglad I am to have done this for you, but alas! I am ashamed to meet my\nfather because of the remembrance of the past! Had I done my duty as a\nson, had I never run away wickedly from home, how much suffering I might\nhave saved my mother and you, poor Shiragiku! Terrible indeed is my\nsin!\" And with these words the young man drew out a short sword and was\nabout to take his own life.\n\nWhen Shiragiku saw what he was going to do, she gave a loud cry, and\nspringing to his side seized his hands with all her strength, and\nstopped him from doing the dread deed. With tender sisterly words she\ntried to comfort him, telling him that she knew his father had forgiven\nhim, and was living in the daily hope of his return--that the happiness\nand solace he could now give him in his old age would more than atone\nfor the past; she begged him to remember his mother's dying prayer that\nhe would establish their house and keep up the ancestral rites before\nthe family shrine when his parents were dead. As she spoke, he desisted\nfrom his desperate purpose. The peace of night and the stillness of the\nmoonlit world around them brought balm to both their troubled hearts,\nand as they bade each other good-night the silence was unbroken save for\nthe cry of the wild geese as they flew across the sky.\n\nIn the early morning the brother and sister left the house, hand in\nhand. They had not gone far when they heard pursuing footsteps, and\nlooking back they saw two or three of the men who had escaped the night\nbefore coming after them. Akihide bade his sister run for her life,\nwhile he stayed behind and engaged the robbers in a fight and so gave\nher time to escape.\n\nShiragiku did as she was told and fled through the woods under cover of\nthe trees. On and on she went, till at last she reached a place of\nsafety out of sight. But her heart, beating wildly with fear, was behind\nwith her brother, wondering what had happened to him, whether he had\nvanquished the bandits or had been killed by them. Who can describe her\nanxiety? She had found her brother only to lose him in this sad and\nuncertain way. Afraid to retrace her steps, yet anxious to know what had\nbecome of him, she climbed to the nearest hill-top to try if she could\nsee anything of him, but around her there was nothing but hills and pine\nwoods.\n\nAs she looked about her, she saw near by a little shrine, and, overcome\nwith the terror of all that had befallen her within the last two days,\nshe made her way towards it with trembling steps, and kneeling down\noffered up a fervent prayer for help and for her brother's and father's\nsafety.\n\nAn old man who was cutting down trees in the forest saw her weeping\nthere, and his heart filled with pity for the young girl. He drew near\nand asked her to tell him what was the matter. On hearing her sad story\nhe led her to his home, saying that he would take care of her.\n\nIt was a quiet mountain place in the woods. The ground was covered with\npine needles, the chrysanthemums round the humble cottage were fading,\nand the bell-insects were feebly tinkling in the grass, for the last\ndays of autumn were passing.\n\nHere in this retired spot Shiragiku lived in peace. The old wood-cutter\nand his wife, having no children of their own, loved her as a daughter,\nfor such she seemed to them, so amiable, patient, and helpful in all her\nways was she, and they told her that they hoped she would remain with\nthem to the end of their days. Shiragiku did her utmost to show her\ngratitude to the old couple for their kindness to her, but she never\nceased to think of her father and brother and to look forward to the\ntime when they would once more be a united family. In spite of all\ndiscouragements she cherished this hope. Now and again she implored the\nold man to let her go and look for them; but he would not permit this,\nsaying that it was not safe for an unprotected girl to roam the hills,\nthat if she did so she would be sure to fall into the hands of robbers\nagain, and that it was far wiser for her to wait till her father and\nbrother found her than for her to seek them, not knowing where they\nwere. Her reverence for old age made her obey him, and she waited in\npatience, hoping each day she rose that her father and brother would\nfind her before the evening came.\n\nDuring these quiet years she grew in beauty day by day and passed from\ngirlhood into the bloom of early womanhood. The poor cotton robe--all\nthat the wood-cutter could give her-in no wise hid her loveliness. She\nwas like a fine chrysanthemum shining among the wild flowers of the\nplain.\n\nShe was soon the acknowledged beauty of the place, and one spring the\nvillage chief sought her in marriage. The wood-cutter, out of respect to\nthe suitor's position, at once gave his consent.\n\nWhen, however, the old man told Shiragiku of what he planned for her,\nher dismay was great. She begged him with tears to make excuses for her;\nshe told him that she could not think of marriage till she had found her\nfather. But he would not listen, saying that it was the best thing for\nher now to be settled in life.\n\nThat night the girl covered her face with her sleeves and wept long and\nbitterly when she lay down to rest.\n\n\"How can I obey the old man?\" she sobbed to herself. \"No, never-never! I\nremember now more vividly than ever what my mother told me when she was\ndying. 'You are not my own child, Shiragiku,' she said; 'one day many\nyears ago I was returning from a visit to a temple. When passing through\na field, I found a little baby crying in the midst of some white\nchrysanthemums. Who can have been so wicked as to forsake such a lovely\nchild? I said to myself; there must be some reason for this! I carried\nthe little one home and brought her up as my own child. You are that\nchild. Praying for blessings on you, I named you _Shira-Giku_, because\nI found you in a bed of white chrysanthemums. There is also something\nelse I must tell you before I die. There is some one in the world to\nwhom you must look as your brother and husband; he is none other than\nour son, who ran away rather than meet the anger of his father. We have\nnever heard of him since he left, but if he is still living I am sure he\nwill come back to his family. Your father and I--your adopted\nparents--have always destined you for him; it is my last behest that you\nshould refuse all other men and wait to marry our son, for come back I\nam sure he will one day; then live a happy life together in the old\nhome, praying for our souls when we have left this world.' My mother's\nwords are still in my ears. I hear them more clearly than ever,\" she\nsobbed to herself. \"I owe her my life; how can I disobey her bidding?\nAnd yet how can I refuse to do as the old wood-cutter asks, for he has\nbeen as a parent to me these last three years? What shall I do? Oh! what\nshall I do?\"\n\nDay by day the old man pressed her to accept the suitor and day by day\nin great perplexity she put him off. At last, seeing no way of escape\nfrom being unfilial to the memory of her mother and from fulfilling the\nold man's wish, she made up her mind to die and put an end to the\nstruggle.\n\nAt this time the _nakodo_ (go-between) of the marriage came and\npresented her with a roll of brocade for the _obi_ (wide sash) and of\ndamask silk for the _kimono_, the betrothal gift of the bridegroom. The\nold man and his wife rejoiced at what they considered her good fortune\nand regarded the matter as settled, and the neighbours came to\ncongratulate them and to catch a glimpse of the chosen bride of their\nchief.\n\nShiragiku, however, had made up her mind. That night during a rainstorm\nshe stole out from the wood-cutter's cottage. She looked back wistfully\nmany times at the place which had fed and sheltered her for so long; but\nshe told herself that there was no other way than this, for she must\nhold as sacred law her mother's last behest. In the despair of the last\nfew weeks, when this unexpected marriage was being forced upon her, she\nhad lost the hope of finding her father and brother again; but she would\ndie rather than marry a stranger against her foster mother's dying wish.\n\nThe night was dark, for the sky was clouded. Down the empty street of\nthe village Shiragiku hurried with the tightly closed thatch-roofed\ncottages on either side. Out across the silent stretches of rice-fields\nshe ran till she reached the blackness of a pine wood, seeking for some\nspot where she could die.\n\nThe roar of water at last reached her ears, and she knew that she had\ncome to a river. The moaning of the wind in the pine trees sounded to\nher like the voices of pursuers. She stopped to look around, but there\nwas no one to be seen. The path leading down to the river grew rougher\nand darker as she entered the shadow of the trees, but Shiragiku never\nfaltered in her determination to reach its bank. At last the water\nglimmered like a wide white ribbon in the gloom of night.\n\n\"I will now die,\" said Shiragiku, weeping; \"but alas! how sad my father\nand brother will be when they hear of my death. Forgive me,\" she cried\naloud, \"oh, my father, oh, elder brother, that I die first. I will await\nyour coming beside my mother in Heaven.\"\n\nShiragiku now reached the edge of the bank and was about to dash down\ninto the river with a prayer to Buddha on her lips when she found\nherself caught from behind and a familiar voice said to her: \"Wait a\nmoment! Tell me who you are and why you seek to take your life.\"\n\nIt was her brother Akihide. She gazed up at him in the dim light of the\nmoon just coming forth from the clouds. They both clasped each other by\nthe arms and burst into tears.\n\n\"Little sister!\" \"Elder brother!\" cried the sister and brother both\ntogether in that shock of simultaneous recognition. In the speechless\nmoments which followed they heard the sound of a flute from the village\nnear by break the silence of the night--they watched the rain cease and\nthe stars shine out one by one. Akihide led Shiragiku to a large\nstone; here they sat down and told each other all that had happened\nsince they last parted.\n\n[Illustration: SHIRAGIKU WAS ABOUT TO DASH DOWN INTO THE RIVER]\n\nWhile they were talking the day broke; together they watched the sun\nrise in splendour and glisten and glow in thousands of rain-drops on the\ntrees and grass around them.\n\n\"Let us go and tell the kind old wood-cutter and his wife all that has\nhappened,\" said White Chrysanthemum, smiling through her tears; \"I must\nbid him farewell and we must thank him, for indeed I owe him my life.\"\n\nThey walked to the village and went at once to the old man and told him\ntheir story. Shiragiku begged him to forgive her for not doing as he\nwished. Then Akihide told him that it had been his mother's dying wish\nthat he should marry White Chrysanthemum and keep up the family name.\nWith tears the brother and sister thanked the old couple for their\never-to-be-remembered kindness to White Chrysanthemum in her distress.\nThey promised to come and see them whenever they could and to let them\nknow all that happened to them in the future, a promise which they\nfaithfully kept. They at last took leave with many gentle words on both\nsides.\n\nThen Akihide and Shiragiku began a happy journey homewards, walking over\nthe hills by day, and passing the night at some farmhouse or cottage\nthey came to on their way.\n\nWhen the brother and foster sister reached the little house in the\nvalley at the foot of Mount Aso, it was early in the month of May; the\ncuckoos were singing, and the air was fragrant with the scent of\norange-blossoms. In spite of the years of desertion and neglect, the\ntiny home still stood safe and firm as when Shiragiku had left it,\nthough the grass had grown tall and thick in the garden and moss covered\nthe roof. The sun was shining brightly over all, and the balm and\ngladness of the spring morning rested on their young souls.\n\nFor a moment White Chrysanthemum paused at the bamboo gate and said:\n\"This is our home, elder brother!\" Then quickly they ran down the\ngarden, quickly they pushed back the paper screen of the entrance and\nentered. Were they waking or were they dreaming? Who should they see\ncoming forward to meet them but their father, whom they had almost given\nup as dead. For a moment they were all silent. It seemed as if their\nhearts must burst with inexpressible joy.\n\n\"Father! Father!\" cried Akihide and Shiragiku together, \"is it really\nyou? Are you safe and well?\"\n\n\"Children, my children!\" cried the astonished father, \"have I found you\nat last?\"\n\nThen Akihide knelt before his father, and with his face bowed to the\nground, confessed everything, and begged his father's forgiveness for\nthe past. He told him all--how bitterly he had repented his behaviour,\nhow hard he had tried to make a new life for himself, how long he had\nsearched for his parents in vain, his one wish being to make amends, how\nwonderfully he had met Shiragiku when he had at last despaired of ever\nfinding any one of his family again, of all that had happened since her\ncoming to the temple.\n\nThe father listened gravely to the long sad story; then with gentle\nwords he forgave his son; he bade him to cease all self-reproach, and as\nhe spoke the kind words his eyes grew dark with unshed tears. When\nShiragiku told her story he commended her filial piety, her courage, and\nher patience. Now that they had as by a miracle of the gods found each\nother again, nothing should ever separate them.\n\nThus the little family found again the vanished happiness of other\nyears.\n\nShiragiku now busied herself preparing the evening meal, and as she\nfilled her father's and her brother's wine-cup the father told them all\nthat had happened to him.\n\n\"When I went out hunting three years ago, I fell over a precipice, and\nfound myself at the bottom of a chasm a hundred or more feet deep. I was\nquite unable to get out, so I lived on wild fruits and stream water for\nmany days.\n\n\"One morning I chanced to see a band of monkeys climbing the chasm by\nmeans of a large wistaria-vine which formed a bridge from side to side.\nI followed their example and soon found myself free on the hillside once\nmore. I returned here with all haste, only to find that Shiragiku had\ndisappeared. Imagine my distress. I inquired of every one in the\nvillage, but no one had seen her go away, and there was no one who could\ntell me anything about her. There was but one thing left for me to do\nand that was to try and find her. So I set out walking through province\nafter province, looking for her, but all in vain. At last I gave up my\nquest as hopeless and returned here only yesterday.\"\n\nThe joy of the little family was great beyond all words. This unexpected\nmeeting--the utmost desire of their souls--was a happiness which took\naway their breath and left them silent with wonder and thankfulness.\nOnly one thing saddened them--that the good mother, who had died of\ngrief and anxiety, could not be present to share in this joyous reunion,\nand to know that her prayer was answered and that the long-lost son had\nreturned to his family. But she was not forgotten--they spoke of her and\nmissed her. Shiragiku rose and opened the little shrine standing in a\nclosed recess at the end of the room, and taking some sticks of incense\nset them burning before the name-tablet set up in memory of her mother;\nfor though Shiragiku now knew that she was not really her own mother,\nyet she always thought of her as such, for she had known no other.\nFather and son and adopted daughter then knelt and with hands clasped\nand bowed heads prayed before the little altar.\n\nShiragiku now fetched and tuned her _koto_ (harp) and sang the songs she\nknew her father liked to hear. This done, she accompanied her brother,\nwhile he paced through some stately measures of the classic dance. The\nfather, calling Akihide and Shiragiku to his side, told them that he\nwished them to marry, as his wife had always planned.\n\nHe was now an old man, he said, and could not expect to live much\nlonger, and before his death it was his ardent wish to see his house\nestablished.\n\nHe then named an early date for the wedding. Akihide, having only\nentered upon a religious novitiate, was able to obey his father without\nbreaking any vows. He bowed his willingness and Shiragiku blushed\nhappily. She was content in fulfilling her good foster mother's last\nbehest.\n\nNow the sun set, a crane cried on the hill at the back of the house, and\nthe stars came out one by one in the soft and darkening turquoise of a\nMay twilight, and peace and joy reigned in the home and the hearts of\nthe three wanderers.\n\n\n[1] The war of the Restoration.\n\n[2] An autumn grass (Miscanthus sinensis).\n\n\n\n\nTHE PRINCESS OF THE BOWL\n\n\nLong, long ago, in old Japan, there lived near Katano, in the Kawachi\nProvince, a prince named Bitchu-no-Kami Minetaka or Lord Minetaka, as we\nshould say in English. He was not only a very wealthy man, but it was\nreported that his house was full of rare and wonderful treasures. He was\nalso a learned man and the master of many accomplishments. His life was\npassed in the luxurious leisure of the rich, and he knew nothing of care\nor want--perhaps he hardly realized what such words meant.\n\nBut above all the treasures in his storehouse, beyond the wealth of his\nrevenue which came pouring in year by year in bushels of rice, he prized\nhis only child, his daughter. The prince and his wife brought this\ndaughter up with great love and tenderness as if she were some rare\nflower or fragile butterfly. So beautiful indeed was the young girl that\nin looking at her their friends and relations wondered whether the Sun\nGoddess Amaterasu had not come to earth again in the form of the little\nPrincess.\n\nNothing came to mar the happiness of this united little family till the\ndaughter was fifteen years of age. Then suddenly the mother, who had\nnever known a day's illness in her whole life, was taken ill. At first\nit seemed to be but a slight cold, but her health, instead of getting\nbetter, only grew worse and worse. She felt that she would never recover\nand that her end was very near, so she called her daughter beside her\npillow, and, taking a large lacquer bowl from the bedside, she placed it\non her daughter's head, saying: \"My poor little child, I want you always\nto wear this bowl. At your innocent age you can understand nothing of\nthe world in which I must leave you motherless. I pity you with all my\nheart; ah! if you were at least seventeen or eighteen years old I could\ndie with more peace of mind. I am indeed loath to go, leaving you behind\nso young. Try to be a good daughter and never forget your mother.\"\n\nThe woman's tears fell fast as she spoke, and her voice was broken with\nsobs while she stroked her little girl's hand. But things are not as one\nwishes in this life. All the doctor's skill could not save the mother;\nshe died and left her daughter behind motherless in the world.\n\nWords cannot tell the grief of the bereaved father and child, it was so\ngreat. At last, after some time had passed and the ordinary routine of\nlife in Prince Minetaka's household was resumed, the father noticed the\nbowl which his daughter wore on her head and which fell so low as\ncompletely to hide her face; and calling her to him tried to take off\nthe unsightly head gear. But his efforts were in vain. All the retainers\nand then the servants were summoned to see what they could do, but no\none could remove the bowl; it stuck fast to the child's head. No one\ncould understand the mystery. The bowl had been put on most simply; why\ncould it not be as easily taken off? This was the question which the\nwhole household asked again and again.\n\nAnd the young Princess, besides sorrowing for the loss of her mother,\nwas greatly troubled at the knowledge that, though born physically\nperfect, she was now quite disfigured for life in having to wear the\nugly bowl which her mother for some unknown reason had placed on her\nhead. If no one succeeded in taking the bowl off, she might have to wear\nit her whole life. That would indeed be a terrible affliction. But in\nspite of all she never forgot her mother even for a moment, but carried\nin her heart the memory of her love and care through every hour of the\nlivelong day. Every morning, as soon as she rose from her bed on the\nmats, she placed the little cup of tea and the bowl of rice before the\ntablet bearing her mother's name in the household shrine, and having set\nthe incense burning she would kneel and pray for the happiness of her\nmother's soul.\n\nThe days passed into weeks, the weeks grew into months, yet the dutiful\ndaughter never failed morning or evening thus to pray for her lost\nmother.\n\nIn the mean time the family relations often came to advise her father,\nPrince Minetaka, to marry again.\n\n\"It is not good for you to be alone,\" they said. \"Marry a suitable woman\nand entrust her with the keeping of your house and the care of your\nyoung daughter, who is now of an age when she most needs a woman's\ncare.\"\n\nAt first Prince Minetaka would not listen to them, the memory of his\ndead wife was too fresh and his sorrow too keen for him to be able to\nlend a willing ear to their persuasion. He felt that it was a reproach\nto her he had loved even to think of putting another woman in her place.\nBut as the months went by he found himself much tried with the affairs\nof the household, and was often so perplexed that he thought perhaps it\nmight be better to listen to the advice of his meddling relations. So\nwithout thinking much about the future he decided to take a second wife.\n\nHis friends were glad to find that their persuasions were of avail at\nlast, and with the help of go-betweens they arranged that he should\nmarry a certain lady of noble family whom they deemed worthy and\nsuitable in all respects.\n\nSo the soothsayers were consulted and a lucky day chosen for the\nmarriage, and the new wife was then installed in Prince Minetaka's home\namidst the congratulations of both families. The little Princess alone\nwas sorrowful in her inmost heart at seeing some one take her mother's\nplace; but it would be unfilial to her father to show that for one\ninstant she did not approve of his second marriage, so she hid her\nunhappiness and smiled.\n\nOn seeing the little Princess for the first time, the stepmother was\nshocked at the deformity of the bowl, and said to herself that never had\nshe even dreamed that there could be any one in the world doomed to be\nsuch an ugly cripple. She not only despised but hated her stepchild from\nthe moment that she saw her. This new wife was indeed a very different\nwoman from her predecessor, whose heart was so good and kind towards all\nwho came near her that the idea of disliking, much less hating any one\nwas impossible to her.\n\nA year passed by and the stepmother gave birth to a child. Jealousy for\nher own infant daughter now made her hate her stepchild more and more.\nIt was her great desire to see her own daughter first in Prince\nMinetaka's affection, and in order to attain her utterly selfish end she\nknew she must oust her stepchild from the house. To begin with, she\ndetermined to estrange the father from the little Princess by telling\nhim unfavourable stories of her behaviour and her character. It is\nneedless to say that she invented these stories.\n\nThe Bowl-Wearing Princess soon understood that her stepmother hated her.\nHer grief and anxiety seemed to her more than she could bear. There was\nno one in the house in whom she could confide, and she knew that to\ncomplain of her stepmother to any one, even to her father, would be\nundutiful. What was she to do in her trouble? To whom could she go but\nto her own mother? So as often as she could she went to her grave. Here\nshe would kneel and pour out the woe that filled her heart.\n\n\"O mother, why must I live on in the world with this ugly bowl on my\nhead? My stepmother truly has a reason for hating such a child about the\nhouse. Now that she has a daughter of her own, all the more must she\nwant to get rid of me! And my father, who used to love me so much, he\ntoo will surely soon give all his love to his new daughter and forget\nme! Alas! Alas! the only place that is left to me to come to without\nfear of dislike is the side of my own dead mother. O mother, sitting\nupon the lotus leaves in Paradise, receive me now upon the same leaf.\nOh! that I might thus escape the sorrow of this world and enter upon the\nway of Buddha!\"\n\nBut the Boundary of Life and Death separated the mother and child, and\nthough she prayed earnestly and with tears, lifting her whole heart and\nsoul up in her despair, no answer came to her eagerly listening ear. As\nshe knelt in the little graveyard only the sound of the wind sighing in\nthe pine trees answered her. But the thought that she had told her\nmother everything comforted her as she returned home.\n\nThe stepmother was told of her stepdaughter's frequent visits to the\ngraveyard, and instead of being touched with pity for the motherless\ngirl, she made use of the occasion still further to slander the child to\nher husband.\n\n\"I am told that the Bowl-Wearer, your daughter, goes to her mother's\ngrave and curses me and my child because of her jealousy! What do you\nthink of that? Hasn't she a wicked heart?\"\n\nDay by day she watched the little girl wend her way from the house to\nthe graveyard and day by day she repeated in her husband's ear her\npretended fears. In her heart she knew quite well that it was only love\nand unhappiness that sent her unfortunate stepchild to the grave of her\nmother. At last she said that she was afraid of the evil that might\nbefall her and her child through the Bowl-Wearer's malice; she had\ndecided that they could no longer live together in the same house.\n\nThe father, who had hitherto never listened much to his wife's tales,\nwas at last persuaded by her importunity into believing them true. So in\nan evil hour he summoned his daughter and said: \"What is this I hear,\nwicked daughter? Your deformity has long since been a source of\nirritation to me, but as long as you behaved well, I put up with it. Now\nI am told that you go every day to the grave of your mother to curse my\nwife and her innocent little child. It is impossible for me to keep\nunder my roof any one who is so crippled not only in body but in mind as\nyou are. Go wherever you will from to-day, but longer in this house you\nshall not stay!\"\n\nWhile the father was speaking these terrible words the stepmother sat\nbehind him, smiling in derision at the poor little Princess and in\ntriumph at the success of her wicked stratagem.\n\n\"Woe to the Bowl-Wearing Princess!\"\n\nThe servants, at the command of her father, took off her silken robes\nand put on her a miserable common cotton gown, such as beggars wear, and\ndrove her out into the road.\n\nThe Princess was altogether bewildered at the suddenness of her\nmisfortune.\n\nShe felt like a wanderer in an unknown land, lost in the darkness of\nnight. So distracted was she at first that she could only stand still in\nthe middle of the street, not knowing which way to turn. But people,\npassing by, stared at her so that she soon realized that she must not\nstand like that all day, so she began to move whither her feet led her.\n\nIn this way she came to the bank of a large river. As she stood and\nlooked at the flowing water, she could not help thinking that it would\nbe far better for her to become the dust of the river-bed than endure\nthe hardships of her present lot. Would it not be better to die and so\njoin her mother than wander about like a beggar from place to place\nbegging her rice? With this thought she made up her mind to drown\nherself. But the roar of the river was so great as it dashed over the\nboulders of its rocky bed that the maiden hesitated at first. Then,\nsummoning up all her courage with a desperate effort, she jumped in.\n\nStrange to say, however, the bowl, which had hitherto been such a curse\nto her, was now a blessing. It lifted her head clear above the water and\nwould not let her sink. As she floated down the stream a fishing-boat\ncame by. The fisherman, seeing a big bowl rising out of the water,\nlifted it up. His surprise was great when underneath the bowl he found a\nhuman being. Thinking it to be some strange monster, he threw it upon\nthe bank.\n\nThe poor girl was at first stunned by her fall. When she came to\nherself, she said that it was a pity she could not die as she had\nwished. She got up from the ground and, in a miserable plight, for her\nclothes were dripping with water, began to walk on, and after some time\nshe found herself in the streets of a town.\n\nHere the people, as soon as they saw her, began to point the finger of\nscorn at her, and to jeer and laugh at the strange-looking bowl on her\nhead.\n\n\"Oh! oh! do you see this queer creature with the bowl coming down from\nthe mountains? Look! Look!\" Then as some of them came nearer they said:\n\"It is strange that a monster should have such beautiful hands and feet.\nWhat a pity this creature was not born a woman!\"\n\nJust then the lord of the district passed by on his way home from the\nhunt. Seeing the gathering of people, he stopped and inquired what was\nthe matter. His retainers pointed out the Bowl-Wearer to him. From the\ngrace of her slender form, and the modesty of her bearing, Lord Yamakage\njudged her to be a young woman, though he could not of course see her\nface, which was completely hidden by the bowl. He ordered the\nBowl-Wearer to be brought to him. Two or three of his retainers went to\nexecute his orders, and came back bringing the poor unhappy Princess\nwith them.\n\n\"Tell me the truth,\" said Lord Yamakage to the girl; \"who or what are\nyou?\"\n\n\"I am the daughter of one Minetaka by name, and my home is near Katano.\nMy mother, when dying, placed this bowl on my head, and since her death\nit has become so firmly fixed there that no one can take it off, and I\nam obliged to wear it always, as you see me now. Because of the\nunsightliness of my appearance I have been driven away from my home. No\none takes pity on me, and I am forced to wander from place to place\nwithout knowing where to lay my head at night.\"\n\n\"Well, well!\" said the kind man. \"Your story is truly a pitiful one. I\nwill take the bowl off for you!\"\n\nWhen he had said these words, Lord Yamakage ordered his retainers to\npull off the bowl from the girl's head. The men, one and all, tried to\nfree the Princess from the obnoxious bowl, but it stuck so obstinately\nto her head that all their efforts were useless. It even uttered loud\ncries and groans of pain as they tugged at it. Every one was dumbfounded\nat the inexplicable mystery, and at last they all began to laugh.\n\nWhen Lord Yamakage saw that there was nothing to be done to help her, he\nspoke to the Bowl-Wearer again. \"Where are you going to spend to-night?\"\n\n\"I am quite homeless,\" answered the Bowl-Wearer, in a heartbroken way,\n\"and I do not know where I shall lay my head to-night. There is no one\nin the wide world to take pity on me, and every one who sees me either\njeers or runs away because of the bowl on my head.\"\n\nLord Yamakage felt his heart fill with pity and said: \"It may bring luck\nto have such a strange creature in my house!\" Then he turned to the girl\nand said: \"How would you like to come home with me for the present,\nBowl-Wearer?\"\n\nAnd with these words he gave her in charge of his attendants, who took\nher with them to their lord's house.\n\nIt was an easy matter to take her to the house, but not so easy to find\nher a place there. His wife objected to her becoming a waiting-maid,\nsaying that no one could bear the sight of so strange a creature about.\nSo the servants at last took her to the bath-room, and told her that she\nmust fetch and carry the water and look after the fire for heating the\nbath. This was to be her work!\n\nAs the little Princess had never done such rough work in the whole of\nher life, she suffered much in obeying these cruel orders; but she\nresigned herself to her fate and tried with all humility and patience to\nperform her hard task faultlessly.\n\nBut her lot was far from being a happy one, even though she had found\nthe safe shelter of Lord Yamakage's home. The young and uncouth\ntradesmen, coming on errands to the house, made fun of her, some even\ntrying to peep under the bowl to get a glimpse of the beautiful face\nbeneath. While she was thus persecuted in the daytime, in the evening\nthe servants gave her no rest with their peremptory orders. \"Hot water\nhere!\" \"Cold water there!\" \"Get the bath ready!\" and so on.\n\nThe poor girl bore all this rude usage patiently; but as she went about\nher work she could not help remembering the old times of her happy\nchildhood, spent under the loving care of her own dear mother, of the\nhonoured place she had held in her father's household till within the\nlast few days; and as she carried the hot water or stoked the bath-fire\nshe pretended that those fast-falling tears of sadness were caused by\nthe fumes of charcoal and the steam which rose from the hot water. When\nshe crept weeping to bed at night it seemed to her as if the past day\nmust be an evil dream.\n\nLord Yamakage had four sons. The three elder ones were married to\ndaughters of three of the leading men of the province. The youngest son,\nSaisho, was still unmarried. He had been away for some time in the gay\nsmart capital of Kyoto. But now he returned to his home.\n\nNow every time he went to take his bath or called for hot water, he saw\nthe Bowl-Wearing maiden, and, as he had a kind and compassionate heart,\nhe could not but be touched by her unhappy appearance, and her modest\nand gentle behaviour and her quickness and diligence at her work.\n\nWhenever he had an opportunity he spoke to the Bowl-Wearer, and to his\nsurprise he found that she was no servant, that she spoke in the refined\nlanguage of his class, and though so young she was well read in the\nliterature and poetry of her country, and could answer a literary\nallusion wittily and to the point. When at last she told him something\nof her sad story, he knew, though she did not tell him, that she\nbelonged to some family of high rank. From this time on he often spoke\nto the girl, and he found that the stolen conversations with her grew to\nbe the chief pleasure of the day.\n\nOne day he managed to take a sly peep under the bowl. The face, even\nthough overshadowed by the huge cover, was of such rare beauty that he\nfell madly in love with the Princess, and made up his mind that none\nother than the Bowl-Wearer should be his wife.\n\nHis mother soon heard of Saisho's friendship for her husband's protege,\nand when she learned that he had promised to marry her she forbade him\nto think of such a thing. She at first thought that her son could not be\nin earnest, but when she sent for Saisho and asked him seriously if what\nshe had been told was true, he answered: \"I really and truly intend to\nmake the Bowl-Wearer my wife!\"\n\nHis mother was not a little angry at his determined front. How could\nSaisho fall in love with a girl with a bowl on her head? Who ever heard\nof such ridiculous nonsense?\n\nThen she sent for her son's nurse, the woman who had nursed him from the\nday he was born, and together they tried to deter him from his purpose.\n\nSaisho was obliged to listen to all they had to say, but did not answer\nthem. He could not say \"Yes\" to their demand that he should give up all\nidea of marrying the Bowl-Wearer, and he knew that if he firmly said\n\"No\" he would raise up such a storm of opposition that no one could tell\nhow it would end. He knew that the life of the Bowl-Wearer was a truly\npitiable one, and his determination to marry her and help her out of all\nher difficulties remained unchanged. His mother soon saw that her son\nwould by no means listen to her persuasions, and her anger was great\ntowards the Bowl-Wearer. She almost made up her mind to drive her from\nthe house before her husband could know what happened.\n\nSaisho, on hearing this, told her that if the girl was driven away he\nwould go with her. The mother's distraction can be imagined, for she was\nthwarted in every way. She at last said that the Bowl-Wearer was a\nwicked witch who had thrown her spells over Saisho and would not leave\nhim till she had compassed his death.\n\nShe determined if possible to separate them by fair means or foul. For\na long time she pondered over the matter, and at last hit upon a\nstratagem which she trusted would rid the house of the presence of the\nobnoxious girl. Her plan she called \"The Comparison of the Brides.\" She\nwould hold in the house a family council of all the relations, and\nassemble the wives of her three elder sons, and before the whole\ngathering compare them with the Bowl-Wearer whom Saisho had elected to\nmarry. If the Bowl-Wearer had any self-respect she would be too\nconscious of her deformity and her poverty, and too ashamed to make an\nappearance,--would leave the house to escape from the ordeal. What an\nexcellent plan! Why had she never thought of this before?\n\nSo the mother sent messengers post-haste to all the family and\nrelations, requesting their presence at a \"Bride Comparing Ceremony\" and\na feast which would close the ceremony.\n\nWhen Saisho heard of this he was greatly troubled, for he knew what it\nmeant. His mother meant to drive the girl he loved from the house by\ncomparing her with his brothers' rich and pretty wives. What was to be\ndone? How could he help the poor Bowl-Wearer?\n\nThe little Princess saw how unhappy he was, and blamed herself, she was\nso sorry for him.\n\n\"It is all because of me that this trouble has come to you. Instead of\nhappiness I have only brought you worry. Woe is me! It is better that I\ngo away at once,\" said the girl.\n\nSaisho told her at once that he would never let her go alone; that if\nshe went he would go with her.\n\nAt last the day fixed for the ceremony of the \"Comparison of the Brides\"\ncame round. Saisho and the unhappy little Bowl-Wearer rose before the\ndawn, and taking each other by the hand left the house together.\n\nNotwithstanding his love for the Bowl-Wearer and his resolve to marry\nher at whatever cost, Saisho was very sad at the thought of leaving his\nparents in this way. He told himself that they would never forgive his\nobstinacy and probably would refuse to see him again, so this parting\nwas probably forever. He felt at each step as if his heart was torn\nbackwards. With slow steps he and the Bowl-Wearer, hand in hand, wended\ntheir way down the garden. No sooner, however, did they put their feet\noutside the gate than the bowl on the girl's head burst with a loud\nnoise and fell in a thousand pieces upon the ground.\n\nWhat untold joy for both of them! Saisho, too astonished to speak,\nlooked for the first time full on the girl's face. The beauty of the\ndamsel was so dazzling that he could compare it only to the glory of the\nfull moon as it rides triumphantly above the clouds on the fifteenth\nnight of September. Her figure, too, now that the dwarfing bowl had\ngone, was more graceful than anything he had ever seen. The young\nlovers, too happy for words at this unexpected deliverance, could do\nnothing but gaze at each other.\n\nThe mother's purpose in covering her daughter's head with the hideous\nbowl was at last made clear. Fearing that her daughter's beauty would\nprove to be a peril to her, with no mother to watch over her, she had\nhidden it thus, and the intensity of her wish had assumed supernatural\npower, so that all attempts to remove it were useless till the moment\ncame when it was no longer needed; then it broke off of its own accord.\n\nAt last the lovers stooped to pick up the pieces of the bowl, when to\ntheir amazement they found the ground strewn with treasures and all that\na bride could possibly need for her portion. There were many gold\n_kanzashi_ (ornamental pins for the hair), silver wine-cups, many\nprecious stones and gold coins, and a wedding-garment of twelve folded\n_kimono_, and a _hakama_ of brilliant scarlet brocade.\n\n\"Oh, surely,\" said the Princess, \"these treasures must be what my mother\nprepared for my marriage portion. Indeed a mother's tender love is above\neverything!\"\n\nShe wept with mingled feelings of joy and pain,--pain of the remembrance\nof her mother and joy at her present unlooked-for deliverance and the\ncertainty of future happiness.\n\nSaisho told her that there was now no need for her to leave the house.\nShe was not only a richly dowered bride, but now that her face was no\nlonger hidden by the hideous bowl, so beautiful that even a king would\nbe proud to wed her. She need no longer fear to be present at the coming\nceremony and feast. So they both turned back, and hastened to prepare\nfor the trial which awaited the Bowl-Wearer, but Bowl-Wearer now no\nlonger.\n\nAs soon as day broke, the house was full of movement, servants hurrying\nto and fro to usher in and wait upon the relations, who now began to\narrive. The murmur of their chattering was like the sound of breaking\nwaves on a distant shore, and the object of all this talk was nothing\nelse than the poor little Princess. The servants told every one that she\nwas in her room getting ready for the approaching feast, and they all\nthought it strange that she had not fled away for shame. Little did they\ndream of all that had happened to her!\n\nAt last the hour of the \"Bride Comparing Ceremony\" arrived. The family\nand the relations all took their places at the upper end of the big\nguest-hall of thirty mats.\n\nFirst entered the bride of the eldest son. She was only twenty-two years\nof age, and as it was the season of autumn, she wore a brightly coloured\nkimono and walked into the room in a stately fashion, with her scarlet\nhakama trailing over the cream mats behind her. Her costume was indeed\nbeautiful to behold! To her parents-in-law she brought gifts of ten\nrolls of rich silk and two suits of the ceremonial gown called _kosode_\n(each _kosode_ consisting of twelve long _kimono_ folded one over the\nother), all of which she placed on a fine lacquer tray to present them.\n\nNext came the bride of the second son. She was twenty years of age, and\nwas of the aristocratic type of beauty, thin and slender, with a long\npale oval face. She wore a heavy silk robe, and over this a flowing gown\nof gold brocade. Her _hakama_ was embroidered profusely with crimson\nplum-blossoms. She came into the room quietly, with a gentle bearing,\nand offered as her gifts of presentation thirty suits of silk robes to\nher husband's parents.\n\nThen came the bride of the third son. She was only eighteen years of\nage. Quite different from the first two proud beauties, she was very\npretty and dainty, and though small had more sweetness and charm in her\nmanner than her sisters. Her dress was of rich silk embroidered with\ncherry-blossoms. She presented thirty pieces of rare and handsome crape\nto her parents-in-law.\n\nThe three sat side by side in their conscious pride and prosperity,\ntheir beauty enhanced by the sheen and splendour of their silken gowns.\nAs the father and mother, uncles and aunts and relations, all gazed\nupon them, no one could say who deserved the palm of superiority, for\nthey were all lovely.\n\nAt the lower end of the room, far away from every one else, was placed a\ntorn mat. It was the seat destined for the Bowl-Wearer.\n\n\"We have seen the three elder brides of the house, and they are all so\nhandsome and so beautifully robed that we are sure there are no women to\ncompare with them in the whole province,\" said the relations. \"Now it is\nthe turn of the Bowl-Wearer, who aspires to marry the youngest son of\nthe house. When she comes in with that ridiculous bowl on her head, let\nus greet her with a burst of laughter!\"\n\nThe roomful of people eagerly waited for the Bowl-Wearer to come, even\nas the birds sitting on the eaves of a house long for the morning. The\nthree brides were also curious to see the cripple girl of whom they had\nheard so much. How dared such a creature aspire to become their sister?\nthey haughtily asked each other.\n\nBut the mother felt differently. She in no wise wished to see the girl\nappear, for she had arranged this day's ceremony, hoping that the\nBowl-Wearer, knowing herself to be a deformed beggar-maid, would be too\nashamed to appear before such a grand company and would flee away rather\nthan face the trial. On asking the servants, however, she was told that\nshe was still in the house, and she wondered what the girl could be\ndoing, and almost regretted what she had done.\n\nLord Yamakage and his wife at last grew impatient and sent word to the\nBowl-Wearer that she was to hasten, as every one was waiting for her.\n\nThe servants went to the back of the house where the Bowl-Wearer had her\nlittle room of three mats, and gave her the message.\n\n\"I am coming now,\" she answered from within the paper screens.\n\nThe Princess now came out and entered the room of the \"Bride Comparing\nCeremony,\" where every one was waiting for her. She was only sixteen\nyears of age, but so beautiful that she reminded them of the weeping\ncherry-blossoms in the dew of a spring morning. Her hair was as black as\nthe sheen on a raven's wing, and her face was lovelier far than that of\nany human being they had ever seen. Her under-robes were of rich white\nsilk, and her upper kimono was purple, embroidered with white and pink\nplum-blossoms. As the stars pale before the fuller glory of the moon, so\nthe three elder brides shrank into insignificance beside the dazzling\nbeauty of this maiden.\n\nTo all it seemed as if one of the _Amatsu Otome_ (heavenly virgins) who\nwait upon the Goddess of Mercy had glided into the room. They had\nexpected to see a poverty-stricken girl with a large bowl stuck upside\ndown on the top of her head, and they were lost in astonishment when\nthey beheld the Princess in all the radiance of her loveliness and the\nsplendour of her rich clothes.\n\nThe Princess was about to sit down in the seat left for her, but Lord\nYamakage made a place for her beside his wife, saying that he could not\nallow her to sit in such a lowly spot. She now presented to her\nfather-in-law a silver wine-cup on a gold pedestal, with one hundred\n_rye_ (old _yen_ in gold), and thirty rolls of silk which she brought in\non a beautiful tray. To his wife she presented the rarest and most\ndelectable fruit of ancient Japan, Konan oranges and Kempo pears, and\none hundred pieces of coloured cloth which she put upon a gold stand.\n\nIn her surpassing beauty, in the grace of her carriage, in the richness\nof her costume, in the sumptuousness of the gifts to her parents, she\nleft the other brides far and away behind. Speechless with wonder and\nadmiration, every one present could not but gaze at her. Before the\nBowl-Wearer had appeared, the three elder brides had seemed beautiful\nenough, but now the difference was as marked as when a sparkling jewel\nis placed side by side with a crystal; and as the crystal suffers from\nthe comparison, so did they.\n\nSaisho's elder brothers were looking between the cracks of the sliding\nscreens, and they were filled with envy at Saisho and his good fortune\nin becoming the husband of such a beautiful princess, for such they now\nfelt she must be. Not even her rivals could deny that she was\nbewilderingly fair to look upon; but they whispered among themselves\nthat unless she were skilled in all womanly accomplishments, for all her\nbeauty she would be no better than a common man's daughter. She must\nplay on the _koto_ at once. No one could perform on that instrument\nwithout years of instruction. If they waited till the next day, who\nknows, she was so clever that she might get Saisho to teach her. So the\njealous brides proposed aloud that they should all play a quartette; the\neldest would play the _biwa_ (lute), the second the _sho_ (flute), the\nthird the _tsuzumi_ (a kind of a small drum beaten with the hand), and\nthey asked the Bowl-Wearer to join them and play the _koto_ (harp).\n\nThe Princess, who was very modest, at first refused; but on second\nthoughts, she said to herself: \"They ask me to do this because they wish\nto try me, thinking me to be ignorant of such accomplishments. Well,\nthen, I will play, for my mother taught me.\" She pulled the _koto_ near\nher, and slipping the ivory tips on her fingers began to stroke chords.\nThe astonishment of every one was great, for she played with great\nskill.\n\nSaisho, who had hidden himself in the room behind a lacquer cabinet, and\nwas watching with the utmost eagerness all that went on, could hardly\nkeep in his hiding-place, he was so delighted.\n\nThe three brides, who were quite put out of countenance, for their\nperformance could in no wise be compared to that of the little Princess,\nnow proposed that she should write a poem.\n\n\"Write a poem, a _tanka_ [a poem of thirty-one syllables], which shall\ndescribe the character of each season, such as the blooming of the peach\nand the cherry-blossom in the spring, the orange and wistaria in summer,\nand the beauty of the chrysanthemum in autumn.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the Bowl-Wearer, \"this is indeed a task too difficult for me.\nIs there nothing else you will give me to do instead of this? I can take\ncare of the bath-room, and pull up water from the well, and heat the\nbath. Since this is my daily occupation, how is it possible that I\nshould even know how to write a poem, much less compose one?\" She\nblushed as she spoke.\n\nBut her rivals insisted, and so at last she took up a poem card and a\nbrush and wrote:--\n\n     Haru wa hana,\n     Natsu wa tachibana,\n     Aki wa kiku,\n     Izure to wakete,\n     Tsuyu ya okuran.\n\n     The cherry-blossom of spring,\n     The orange-flower of summer,\n     The autumn chrysanthemum,\n     Perplexed between them all,\n     Alike on each the dew may fall.\n\nShe showed not the least hesitation in writing these lines, and her\nhandwriting was so beautiful that even the famous Tofu[1] and her brush\ncould not have surpassed it. The three brides retired from the room,\ngrumbling and speaking evil of the Bowl-Wearer.\n\n\"She must be a witch,\" they said. \"Probably the spirit of the ancient\nTamamono Maye!\"\n\nLord Yamakage, now quite pleased with her, handed her a cup of _sak\u00e9_.\nHe gave his full consent to her marrying his son Saisho, and bestowed\nupon them as a settlement twenty-three hundred _cho_ of land, together\nwith twenty-four servants to wait upon them, and for their bridal\nchamber he allotted them the Hall of Bamboos.\n\nSo Saisho and the Bowl-Wearer were at last married, and all their\ntroubles ended. Never was there such a merry wedding, such a lovely\nbride, or such a happy bridegroom. The days flew into weeks, the weeks\nflew into months, for the flight of time is unnoticed when one is happy.\n\nAt last one day Saisho said to his wife: \"I cannot believe you to be the\ndaughter of a common man. Will you not tell me who your father is? I\nshould like to know. Whatever wrong you have suffered, why hide your\nparentage any longer?\"\n\nThe Princess knew that if she told her husband the truth, the name of\nher cruel stepmother would have to be mentioned, and it would be most\nunfilial to speak of the woman's cruelty, for she was her father's wife,\nso she decided not to tell Saisho to what family she belonged. She made\nsome excuse, saying that he should know all in good time, and begged him\nto wait a little longer.\n\n[Illustration: SAISHO AND THE BOWL-WEARER WERE AT LAST MARRIED]\n\nWhen they had been happily married for a year, she gave birth to a son.\nThe bliss of the faithful young couple now seemed complete. Yet with her\never-growing happiness her thoughts turned more and more to her father.\nWhat had happened to him in these past years? How she longed to show him\nher little son! She said to herself that if this were granted she would\nbe the happiest woman in the whole world.\n\nNow let us turn back and see what happened to Lord Minetaka and his\nwicked wife. As time went on, her vicious disposition only became worse.\nAt last it became so unbearable that all the servants took their leave.\nThere was now no one left to care for her child or the house, and the\nfortunes of the family gradually declined. Lord Minetaka became poorer\nand poorer. Where once in the days of the first wife there had been\nsweet peace and harmony, discord now reigned in the house.\n\nLord Minetaka grew weary of his life. He decided to leave his home and\nset out on a pilgrimage. He started at last to wander on foot from\nprovince to province and from temple to temple, learning from the\npriests all he could of Buddhist lore. He had plenty of time for\nreflection; and no longer harassed by a scolding wife, he began to\nponder over his past life. No words can tell how much he regretted\nhaving listened to her slanderous stories about his little daughter; and\nwhen he thought of how he had allowed her to be driven from her home,\nlike an outcast or a beggar, his nights were sleepless.\n\nHe asked himself every day what could have happened to her all this\ntime. He would search for her through the length and the breadth of the\nland, and if she were still alive, he told himself that he would surely\nmeet with her again. In every temple he came to he prayed that he might\nfind her, wheresoever she might be. On and on he wandered over the\ncountry, stopping for the night at the different villages he came to on\nhis way.\n\nAt last he reached the famous Kwannon of the Hatsuse Temple, of the\nYamato Province. Kwannon, the Goddess of Mercy, grants to mortals\nwhatever they need the most, the greatest desire of their hearts. Here\nMinetaka ardently prayed for his lost daughter, prayed that she might be\npreserved from all ill, and that Kwannon would mercifully grant them a\nspeedy meeting.\n\nSaisho and his wife were devoted to this very temple, and often used to\nvisit it to offer thanksgiving for their mutual happiness, and to pray\nfor their children. Now this day, as was their wont, they had come with\ntheir three little sons and some of their retainers. The little boys\nwere beautifully dressed in silk and crape, and the whole party had the\nappearance of a nobleman and his retinue.\n\nThe retainers went up the temple steps first to clear the way, and found\na pilgrim before the temple shrine lost in earnest prayer.\n\n\"Oh, pilgrim!\" they cried, \"out of the way! Our lord comes to worship,\nmake way instantly!\"\n\nThe man, hearing himself spoken to in this way, got up and looked at the\napproaching party, moving aside at the same time to let them pass. He\nwas travel-stained and worn out with fatigue, and it was easy to see\nthat he was broken down by some sorrow. As the little boys passed him,\nhe looked at them eagerly, and as he did so the tears fell from his\neyes. One of the retainers, who thought his behaviour strange, asked the\npilgrim why he wept.\n\n\"Those children,\" answered Lord Minetaka, for it was he, \"remind me so\nmuch of my daughter, for whom I am searching, that when I looked at\ntheir faces the tears fell in spite of myself;\" and he told the man all\nthat had happened, glad for once to find a sympathetic listener on his\nlonely wanderings.\n\nWhen the Princess heard the story, she told the retainers to bring the\npilgrim to her. As soon as they led him to her a glance was enough for\nher to recognize that, aged and emaciated as he was, the pilgrim was\nnone other than her father.\n\n\"I am the Bowl-Wearer!\" she exclaimed quickly, catching hold of her\nfather's sleeve and bursting into tears, overcome with joy and filial\naffection at this unexpected meeting.\n\nSaisho congratulated his wife and her father on their happy reunion, and\nafter many bows and salutations on both sides, he said: \"I felt sure\nthat my wife was of noble birth, though she always remained silent when\nI questioned her as to her parentage. Now I understand it all. So, after\nall, she is the daughter of Lord Minetaka of Katano.\"\n\nHe then insisted that his father-in-law should give up his wanderings\nand make his home with them for the rest of his days.\n\nSo Lord Minetaka at last found his good daughter married to one of his\nown rank, and so happy that even in dreams he could have wished for\nnothing better for her. What a joyous home-coming it was that day for\nthe Bowl-Wearer, as she led her father back with her and presented her\nthree little sons to him, and showed him her beautiful home, and told\nhim how good and faithful her husband had been to her while she was only\nthe unhappy and despised Bowl-Wearer!\n\nThey all felt that their cup of happiness was full, and lived together\nmore harmoniously than ever, and in their mutual joy all past sorrow was\nforgotten.\n\nSuch is the story of the Bowl-Wearing Princess, which is told from\ngrandmother to mother and from mother to daughter in all households in\nJapan.\n\n\n[1] Tofu. A lady famous for her beautiful handwriting.\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF LAZY TARO\n\n\nLong, long ago, in the province of Shinano there lived a lad called\nMonogusa Taro. Monogusa was not his surname. The word means \"lazy,\" or\n\"good-for-nothing,\" and he was so nicknamed because by nature he was so\nlazy that he would not even take the trouble to pick up anything that\nwas lying in the way. When the neighbours asked him to do something for\nthem, saying, \"Do this,\" or \"Do that,\" he would shrug his shoulders and\nsay, \"It is really too much bother,\" and go away without attempting to\nobey, or even wishing to be kind to those about him.\n\nAt last all turned their backs on him, and would have nothing to do with\nhim. Strange to say, no one knew who his father or mother was, or from\nwhere he had come. He seemed to be a waif and stray that had drifted\ninto the province of Shinano, and yet there was an air about him which\nexcited interest and respect.\n\nBut this lazy lad, Monogusa Taro, had his dreams and ambitions. He\nwanted to live in a large house. In his imagination he pictured this\nhouse like a _daimio's_ palace. It was to stand in its own grounds and\nbe closed by four high walls, with large roofed gates opening out on\nthree sides of it. In the park-like garden he would have four miniature\nlakes, laid out in the four directions, north, south, east, and west,\nand each pond was to have an island in its centre, and dainty arched\nbridges were to span the distances between the islands and the shores of\nthe little lakes. And oh! how beautiful the garden should be, with its\nminiature hills and valleys, its tiny bamboo forests and dwarfed pine\ntrees, its rivulets and dells with little cascades. And he would keep\nall kinds of singing-birds in the garden, the nightingale and the lark\nand the cuckoo. And the house itself was to be large, with spacious\nrooms hung with costly tapestries of brocade, and the ceilings were to\nbe inlaid with rare wood of fine markings, and the pillars supporting\nthe corridors must be adorned with silver and gold. And he would eat off\ncostly trays of lacquer, and the dishes and bowls should be of the\nfinest porcelain, and the servants who glided through the rooms to serve\nhim should be beautiful maidens clothed in silk and crape and brocade,\ndaughters of ancient families, glad to enter his house, so that they\nmight learn the etiquette and manners of a princely house. Such were the\nday-dreams and visions of Lazy Taro. Once or twice he spoke of these\nthings to a kind neighbour who brought him food and little gifts, but\nhe was laughed to scorn for his pains, and so he kept silent henceforth\nand dreamed only for himself.\n\nBut he had to come down to stern reality. Instead of the grand palace\nthat he dreamed of building, he had to content himself with a little\nshed by the roadside. Instead of the fine pillars of his visionary\npalace he put up four bamboo posts; and in place of the grand walls he\nhung up pieces of grass matting; and instead of the fine cream-white\nmats on which the foot glides softly and noiselessly, he spread a common\nstraw mat. Here Lazy Taro lay day and night doing nothing, neither\nworking nor begging for his living, only dreaming away the hours and\nbuilding castles in the air of what he would do and have if only he were\nrich.\n\nOne day a near neighbour who felt sorry for the lad sent him by his\nservant a present of five rice-dumplings. Lazy Taro was delighted. He\nwas in one of his dreamy moods and ate up four of them, without thinking\nwhat he was about. When he came to the last one, somehow he suddenly\nfelt unwilling to part with it. He held it in his hand, and looked at it\nfor some minutes. It took him a long time to make up his mind whether he\nwould eat it or keep it. At last he decided to keep it until some one\nwas kind enough to send him something else. Lazy Taro, having made up\nhis mind on this point, lay down on his straw mat again to dream away\nthe hours with his foolish visions of future grandeur and to play with\nthe remaining rice-dumpling which he still held in his hand. He was\ntossing it up and down when it slipped from his hand and went rolling\ninto the road.\n\n\"How tiresome!\" said Taro, looking after it wistfully as it lay in the\ndusty road; but he was so terribly lazy that he would not stir out of\nhis place to pick it up.\n\n\"It is too much trouble,\" said Lazy Taro; \"some one is sure to come\nalong and pick it up for me.\"\n\nSo he lay in his shed and watched the dumpling in the road. When a dog,\nhowever, came along or a crow flew down to steal it, he drove them away\nby making a noise or by flapping his sleeves at them.\n\nOn the third day after this, the Governor of the District passed by on\nhis way home from hawking. He rode a fine horse and was followed by a\nnumber of retainers. Now as Lazy Taro lay in his shed he saw the\nGovernor and his suite coming.\n\n\"Now this is lucky!\" said Taro. He did not care whether the approaching\nman was the Governor of the Province or a daimio or not. When the\nGovernor was opposite the door of the hut Taro raised his voice and\ncalled out to the rider, asking him to pick up his dumpling and bring it\nto him. No notice whatever was taken of him. The procession of riders\nwent slowly by the hut. Then Taro called out still more loudly to make\nthem hear.\n\n\"Ho, there!\" he shouted, \"will no one do what I ask? It can't be much\ntrouble to get down from your horse and pick up that dumpling for me!\"\n\nStill no one heeded him.\n\nThen Taro got angry and shouted still more loudly: \"What a lazy person\nyou must be!\"\n\nThus Taro arrogantly found fault with others, entirely forgetful of his\nown laziness, and talked to those older and better than himself in this\nhateful way. Had the Governor, whose attention was now directed to the\nlittle shed by the roadside, been an ordinary man, he would have given\norders to his men to kill the presumptuous fellow on the spot; for a\n_samurai_ of high rank in old Japan, in his domain and along the road,\npossessed the power of life and death over the lower classes. When a\nlord or any great dignitary rode abroad, the peasants and the farmers\nbowed themselves in the dust as he passed by. They dared not lift up\ntheir heads on pain of death.\n\nBut this Governor was an unusual man, and renowned throughout the\ndistrict for his goodness and mildness of disposition. His curiosity too\nwas aroused at the queer proceeding. He had heard of the strange\nMonogusa Taro, and he concluded that the boy in the hut must be he. So\nthe Governor got down from his horse, and sitting on a stool that one\nof his retainers placed for him opposite the hut, said: \"Are you\nMonogusa Taro of whom the people talk?\"\n\nTaro, not in the least afraid, answered boldly that he was. He did not\neven move from his position on the mat to bow to the great man. He\nbehaved just as indifferently as if he were a lord speaking to a\nservant.\n\n\"You are indeed an interesting fellow,\" said the Governor. \"Now tell me\nwhat do you do to earn a living?\"\n\n\"As my name tells you,\" answered Lazy Taro, \"I do nothing. I lie in this\nshed night and day. I am Lazy Taro!\"\n\n\"Then you must get little to eat!\" said the Governor.\n\n\"It is exactly as you say!\" answered Taro; \"when the neighbours bring me\nfood, I eat it; but when I get nothing I lie in this shed night and day\njust like this, sometimes for three and four and five days without\neating!\"\n\n\"I am very sorry for you,\" said the Governor. \"Now if I give you a piece\nof ground, will you till it and grow your own rice and vegetables? What\nyou do not want you might sell to the neighbours and so make a little\nmoney.\"\n\n\"You are very kind,\" answered Taro, \"and I thank you; but it is too much\ntrouble to till the ground to get my own rice. Why should I when I can\nget people to give me just enough to live upon? No, thank you, I beg to\nbe excused.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the Governor, \"if you don't like the idea of tilling the\nground, I will give you some money to start in business. What do you say\nto that?\"\n\n\"That would be too much trouble too, so I will remain as I am,\" said\nTaro.\n\nThe kind-hearted Governor could not but be astonished at the\ngood-for-nothing boy's answer, but he was a man of great patience, and\nhe felt sorry for Monogusa Taro.\n\n\"You are,\" he said, \"as everyone says, the laziest man in the whole of\nJapan. In all my experience of all sorts and conditions of men, never\nhave I come across such a don't-care, happy-go-lucky creature as\nyourself--but as it is your nature, I suppose there is no help for it.\nYour condition is a pitiful one. I can't let you starve in my district\n--which you certainly will do if you go on like this.\"\n\nThen the kind-hearted Governor took out a piece of paper from his\nsleeve, and on this paper with brush and Indian ink he wrote an order to\nthe effect that the people of his dominion of Shinano were to provide\nMonogusa Taro twice daily with three go of rice and a little _sak\u00e9_ once\na day to cheer his spirits. Whoever disobeyed the order must quit the\ndistrict at once. This order the Governor had published and made known\nthroughout the whole province.\n\nTo the people of the province it seemed a strange command, and they were\nlost in amazement; but however strange they thought it, they had to obey\nthe Governor's order. So from that day on Taro was taken care of and fed\nby his neighbours with rice and _sak\u00e9_ daily.\n\nTime slipped slowly by in the rustic place, and for three years Taro\nlived in ease and plenty, as free from care as the birds of the air. To\nall appearance he was perfectly satisfied with himself and his useless\nlife, and he seemed to desire nothing better.\n\nAt the end of three years the feudal _Daimio_ of Shinano, who always\nlived in the capital, advertised for a man-servant who was young and\nstrong. One of Taro's kindest neighbours suggested that this was a good\nopportunity for Taro to make a beginning and that he ought to apply for\nthe place. But others shook their heads and said that Taro was a\ngood-for-nothing fellow, who would never do any good in the world--he\nwould only be a trouble wherever he went.\n\n\"Look,\" they said, \"how he behaved to the good Governor, how he\ndared--just think of it--to ask that great man to pick up the\nrice-dumpling he had dropped in the road, because he was too atrociously\nlazy to move out of his shed to get it for himself! Had the Governor\nbeen any one else, he would have had him sworded to death on the Spot.\"\n\nBut in spite of all the neighbours' croaking and grumbling, the first\nman persisted in his idea that the right thing for Taro to do was to try\nfor the place, regardless of opposition. To every one who raised an\nobjection, he answered wisely: \"Don't you know the saying that 'Stupid\npeople and scissors depend on the way they are used for their\nusefulness'; so even this Lazy Taro may change for the better if he is\ntaken up to the capital and made to work. Let us all persuade him to go\ninto service, and let him for pity's sake have a try at something or\nother. Who knows but this may prove the turning-point in his life? Taro\nmay yet become a useful hard-working man in time, if he is given his\nproper chance.\"\n\nWhen the proposal was first made to Taro, he was very unwilling to do as\nhe was told. He said he knew nothing of the ways of a lord's house; and\nhow could he work, seeing that he was Lazy Taro, who had never done a\nstroke of work in his life? But his neighbours and friends were\ndetermined to make him go. Every day they came to his shed, and talked\nto him, persuadingly, and at last Taro came round to reason and said\nthat, to please them, he would at any rate go and try to do his best--if\nhe failed, he couldn't help it. When Taro said this, his friends were\ndelighted, and said they would help him get ready. They gave him decent\nclothes in which to make an appearance at the _Daimio's_ house and then\nsome money for the journey. In this way Lazy Taro left the rural\nprovince of Shinano, where he had lived for so many years, and started\nfor the capital of Kyoto. Just as Tokyo is the seat of government\nnowadays, so Kyoto was in olden times. The Emperor--the Son of Heaven,\nas he was called--dwelt there in a magnificent palace, and all the great\n_daimios_ lived near him in state, surrounded by their retainers. The\nstreets of the Imperial City were beautifully built and spotlessly\nclean, and the houses were far grander than Taro had ever dreamed\nof--with great sloping roofs and picturesque gates and park-like gardens\nenclosing them. Very different indeed was the capital from the province\nof Shinano, from which Taro had come.\n\nThe Japanese have a saying, \"As different as the moon and the turtle,\"\nand what can be more utterly different from the Queen of Night, riding\nabove the clouds in her own bewitching radiance and beauty, attended by\ninnumerable stars, than the mud-burrowing turtle, who may sometimes be\nseen crawling out from his slime to dry his back in the sunshine? As\nTaro walked through the streets of the city of Kyoto, he thought of the\nold proverb, and he said to himself that the Lady Moon was Kyoto and the\nturtle his old-fashioned Shinano.\n\nThen he noticed how fair of skin the people he met were, for the\ncitizens of Kyoto are famous for their white complexions; and some say\nit is the purity of the water that gives them such fair skins, while\nothers say that they are of a different race from the yellow-skinned\npeople of the rest of Japan. And how elegantly every one was dressed!\n\nTaro looked down at himself, and saw how dark his skin was, how long his\nnails, and how rough his clothes were. For the first time in his life he\nfelt ashamed of himself, and repented of his past laziness.\n\nNow he remembered that one of his neighbours in Shinano, kinder and more\nthoughtful than the rest, had put in his bamboo basket a silken suit of\nclothes, saying that Taro would be sure to want it in the capital, and\nthat when Taro got on, as he felt sure, somehow or other, that he would,\nhe might pay him back. Recollecting this, Taro stopped at a teahouse and\nchanged his rough cotton suit for the silken one. Then he inquired for\nthe residence of Nijo-Dainagon, the Lord of Shinano, and having made his\nway there, he entered the large gate and presented himself at the porch,\nsaying that he had come in answer to an advertisement of the Lord of\nShinano for a servant, and he begged to be made use of.\n\nWhen the lord of the house heard that a man had come from his own\nprovince to ask for the vacant place in his household, he came out\nhimself to see Taro, and thanked him for his trouble in coming such a\nlong way.\n\n\"Work well and diligently, and you will not find service in my house\nhard or bad!\" said Lord Nijo.\n\nNow, strange to relate, from the time that Lazy Taro was taken into the\nservice of this _Daimio_, a great change came over him. He was from this\ntime forth like another man. He showed great eagerness to please those\nset over him and worked with great industry. Before any one else was\nastir in the big household, he arose and swept the garden; he ran\nerrands more quickly than the other servants, and sat up late at night\nto guard the gate. When Lord Nijo went out, Taro was the first to put\nhis sandals ready, and the most eager to accompany him. So assiduous, so\nearnest was he in all he did, that his master was much impressed by his\nfaithfulness and industry.\n\n\"How true is the proverb,\" said the _Daimio_, \"that even the beautiful\nlotus blooms in the slime of the pond, and that precious gems are found\nin the sand. Who would have dreamt that this rustic would turn out to\nbe such a jewel of a servant? This Monogusa Taro is a clever fellow,\nquite unlike any countryman I have ever seen.\"\n\nIn this way Lazy Taro won the favour of his master, who gradually\npromoted him from the position of a menial servant to the higher service\nof a retainer.\n\nOne day, soon after his promotion, Taro had been summoned to the inner\napartments to wait upon O Hime San, or the Honourable Princess, the\n_Daimio's_ daughter. As he moved across the room, he fell over the\nPrincess's _koto_ and broke it.\n\nNow the Japanese have always considered it a virtue to repress their\nfeelings, whether they be feelings of joy or feelings of sorrow. No\nmatter what happens, one must learn to present an impassive countenance\nto the world, whether the heart be bounding with joy or withering with\npain. Instead of making a display of your emotion, control it and\ncompose a poem or a beautiful sentence. Such is the training and\netiquette instilled by custom, and more especially amongst the upper\nclasses are these rules rigidly observed.\n\nNow the Princess was a very high-born damsel, so, though she was sorely\ngrieved when she saw that Taro had broken her favourite _koto_, instead\nof betraying any anger or impatience, she expressed her grief in an\nimpromptu verse and repeated aloud:--\n\n     Kiyo yori wa\n     [Oh! from to-day]\n     Waga nagusami ni\n     [For my amusement]\n     Nani ka sen?\n     [What shall I do?]\n\nThen Taro, who was very, very sorry for the accident and for the\ndispleasure he knew he must have caused the Princess, was moved to the\nheart, and the words of apology and regret suddenly rose to his lips, in\nthe form of the second half of the Princess's poem, and he said:--\n\n     Kotowari nareba\n     Mono mo iwarezu.\n\nThis has two meanings, because of the play on the first word _kotowari_,\nwhich means either a broken _koto_ or an excuse. So Taro's couplet meant\nfirst that there was indeed good reason for the Princess's sorrow, and\nthat he had no excuse to offer; and secondly, that as the _koto_ was\nbroken, he had no words wherewith to excuse himself.\n\nThe _Daimio_ was sitting in the adjoining room and heard Taro answer his\ndaughter in verse. His astonishment at finding that Taro was a poet was\ngreat. \"Certainly, appearances are deceptive,\" said the _Daimio_ to\nhimself.\n\nNow the next time that the Daimio went to Court, thinking to amuse the\nPalace circles with Taro's story, he told them first how he had taken a\n\"potato-digger\" (Japanese expression for a country bumpkin) into his\nservice, and then he told of the progress of the transformation of the\nrough rustic, who had proved himself to be such a jewel, into a valuable\nretainer, and last, and most astonishing of all, how Taro had turned out\nto be a poet. Every one in the Palace listened to the tale with much\ninterest, and said that Taro's story was like a novel.\n\nAt last this story reached the ears of the Emperor, who felt interested\nin the poetical rustic, and he thought that he would like to see Taro;\nfor literary and poetic talent has always been held in high esteem in\nJapan and has in a special manner enjoyed royal patronage. The Emperor\nsent word to Lord Nijo that he was to bring Taro to the Palace.\n\nSo the next time that Lord Nijo went up to the Palace he ordered Taro to\naccompany him. So Taro at last had the highest honour that could befall\na mortal, for he was commanded to enter the august presence of the Son\nof Heaven.\n\nThe Emperor sat on a dais behind the closely slatted bamboo blinds, with\ncords and tassels of gold and purple, so that he could see and not be\nseen, for he was thought to be too sacred for the eyes of his subjects\nto fall on him.\n\nThe _Daimio_ Nijo prostrated himself before the throne three times, and\nthen presented Taro. The Emperor, from behind the screen that hid him\nfrom view, deigned at last to speak, and this is what he said:--\n\n\"I hear that you are a poet. Therefore compose a verse for me on the\nspot!\"\n\nTaro obeyed without any hesitation whatsoever. Looking about him for a\nmoment for inspiration, he happened to glance into the garden, where he\nsaw a nightingale alight on a blossoming plum tree, and begin to warble.\nSo he made the nightingale and the plum tree the subject of his poem:--\n\n     Uguisu no\n     Nuretaru koe no\n     Kokoyuru wa\n     Ume no hanagasa\n     Moru ya harusame.\n\nThe meaning of this little poem of thirty-one syllables is that the\nnightingale's voice sounds tearful or moist because the flower-umbrella\nof the plum-blossoms lets through the spring rain, which damps the body\nof the bird sitting among the branches.\n\nThe Emperor was pleasingly impressed with Taro's talent and facility in\nexpressing his graceful thoughts, and addressed him again, saying: \"I\nhear you came from Shinano? How do you call plum-blossoms [ume-no-hana]\nthere?\"\n\nThen Taro answered the royal question again, saying in verse:--\n\n     Shinano ni wa\n     Baika to iu mo\n     Ume no hana\n     Miyako no koto wa\n     Ikaga aruran.\n\n\"In Shinano we call the plum-blossom '_baika_,' but of what they may\ncall it in the capital I know nothing.\"\n\nIn this way Taro humbly confessed his ignorance of the ways of the\ncapital.\n\n\"You are indeed a clever poet,\" said the Emperor, \"and you must be\ndescended from a good family. Tell me who was your father? Do you know?\"\n\n\"I have no ancestors that I know of!\" said Taro.\n\n\"Then I shall command that the Governor of Shinano make inquiries about\nyou,\" said the Emperor; and therewith he commanded his courtiers to\ndespatch a messenger to the far-away province of Shinano, with\ninstructions to find out all he could about Lazy Taro and his parents.\n\nAfter some time the Governor of Shinano learned through an old priest\nwho Monogusa Taro really was, and the discovery was a startling one.\n\nIt appeared that many years before, a Prince of the Imperial House had\nbeen banished from Court circles and had come to the Temple of Zenkoji\nin Shinano. The Prince was accompanied by his consort. The royal young\ncouple made this pilgrimage to pray Heaven for a child, for they were\nboth sorrowful at being childless. Their prayers were answered by the\nbirth of a son within the year. This son was Taro. When the infant was\nbut three years old, his parents died and the child was left with no one\nbut the old priest to take care of him. When Taro was only seven years\nold, he strayed away from his guardian and was lost.\n\nThe royal couple had kept their secret well, and the old priest had only\ndiscovered who Taro was by finding some letters hidden away behind the\nBuddhist altar. Taro was the grandson of the Emperor Kusabuka, the\nsecond son of the Emperor Nimmu, the fifty-third Emperor of Japan.\nTaro's father had been banished for some misdemeanour at Court, and had\nhidden himself in disgrace in the rustic province of Shinano in the\nheart of the country, far from the gay capital and all who knew him.\nThus it was that no one knew where Monogusa Taro had come from, who he\nwas, or anything about him at all, and he had grown up like a common\npeasant, ignorant of his high estate and the exalted circle to which he\nbelonged.\n\nYou may imagine the surprise of the Emperor when he learned that Taro\nwas descended from the Royal Family. It was no wonder that he had shown\nsuch noble qualities as faithful service to his lord and love of poetry.\nHis Majesty now bestowed upon Taro the highest official rank, and made\nhim Governor of the provinces of Shinano and Kai.\n\nNow Monogusa Taro returned to Shinano, the old province which had\nharboured him in his days of poverty--in great state he returned. No\nlonger as Lazy Taro, the good-for-nothing rascal who lived in a straw\nshed, content with living upon the charity of his neighbours and\nfriends, or whoever chose to take pity upon him, but as the new\nGovernor, the man who through industry and faithfulness had won the\nesteem of Lord Nijo, and who through him was presented at Court. Once at\nCourt, his talent for writing verses had aroused the interest of the\nEmperor, whose inquiries had established his high birth.\n\nAnd so, greater than all expectations and more wonderful than dreams,\nhad the transformation of Lazy Taro been. No longer a despised beggar by\nthe roadside, he was now an honoured man, created new Lord of the\nProvince by the Emperor. Nor did he now forget in these changed\ncircumstances the kindness that had been shown to him in former times.\nHe repaid and rewarded all those who had ministered to his wants in the\ndays of his vagrancy; he forgot no one--neither those who had given him\nrice, nor those who had interested themselves in his going to Kyoto, nor\nthose who had prepared him for his journey. He paid a visit to his old\nfriend and benefactor, the ex-Governor, now retired from active\nservice, and took him many handsome gifts. His visions of a fine house\nwere now realized, for he lived in just such a palace as he had seen in\nhis day-dreams by the wayside. The palace had sloping roofs, just as you\nsee in old Japanese pictures; it stood in the midst of beautiful\ngardens, surrounded by high walls and approached by three large gates.\nLord Nijo gave him one of his daughters in marriage, and Monogusa Taro\nlived happily to the great age of one hundred and twenty years, and he\nleft the world beloved, honoured, and lamented by all who knew him. Such\nis the wonderful and happy-ending story of Lazy Taro.","title":"Warriors of Old Japan, and Other Stories","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":59247}