Ancient Tales and Folk-Lore of Japan Part 6

Two days later his brother-in-law came to attack him.

YoG.o.dayu began fighting carelessly, so as to draw the enemy, who, seeing this, came on in full force and in a most unguarded way. As soon as the whole of the enemy's force lay revealed, the bees swarmed out of their hiding-places, and flew among them in such blinding swarms--stinging as they went here, there, and everywhere--that there was no standing against them. The enemy, without a single exception, turned and ran. They were pursued by the bees, and by YoG.o.dayu's eighty men, who simply cut them down as they liked, for each of the enemy had fully 3000 bees attending him. Many lost their minds and went mad.

Thus, after completely defeating his old enemy, YoG.o.dayu became repossessed of his fortress; and, to commemorate the event, he built a small temple at the back of Kasagi yama. All the dead bees that could be found were collected and buried there, and once a-year during the rest of his life YoG.o.dayu used to go and wors.h.i.+p there.

24. Makino Heinei Gets Blown Away in the Storm.

XX THE ISOLATED OR DESOLATED ISLAND.

MANY years ago the Lord of Kishu, head of one of the three families of the Tokugawas, ordered his people to hold a hunting-party on Tomagas.h.i.+ma (Toma Island). In those days such hunting-parties were often ordered, more for the purpose of improving drill and organisation than for sport. It brought men together, and taught others to handle them both on land and at sea. It made men recognise their commanders and superiors, and it disclosed what men were worthy of being made such. Hunting-parties of this kind were considered as military manAuvres.

On this particular hunt or manAuvre, the Lord of Kishu was to make a kind of descent by water on the island of Toma, and kill all the game that his landing-party could beat up.

Boats and junks were armed as if for war, and so were the men--except that they wore no armour.

The day for the entertainment was fine. Some sixty boats put to sea, and landed successfully about eight hundred men on Toma Island; and busy indeed were they chasing boar and deer the whole morning.

Towards afternoon, however, a storm of great violence came on and completely stopped the sport. The men were ordered to return to the sh.o.r.e and regain their boats before these should be smashed on the beach.

On embarking they put out to sea with the intention of gaining the mainland. On sh.o.r.e trees were being uprooted, columns of sand flew high in the air, and the gale was indeed terrific; if on sh.o.r.e it was as bad as this, it must be much worse at sea. The Lord of Kishu's boats and junks were tossed about as if they were floating leaves.

One of the party was a notedly brave man, Makino Heinei, who had been nicknamed 'Ino s.h.i.+s.h.i.+' (Wild Boar) on account of his reckless bravery. Seeing that neither junks nor boats were making headway against the storm, he pushed the small boat off the junk, jumped into it alone, took the oars, laughed at every one, and cried: 'See here! You all seem to be too frightened to make headway. Look at what I do and follow me. I am not afraid of the waves, and none of you should be if you are to serve our Lord of Kishu faithfully.'

With that Makino Heinei shot out into the wild sea, and by extraordinary exertion managed to get some three hundred yards ahead of the rest of the fleet. Then the gale increased to such violence that he was incapable of doing anything. For fear of being blown out of the boat, he was obliged to hold tight to the mast and otherwise abandon his fate to good fortune. At times even the heart of the Wild Boar quailed. Often his boat was lifted clean out of the water by the wind; waves towered over him; he closed his eyes and awaited his fate.

[paragraph continues] Finally, one squall more powerful than the rest blew his boat out of the water, and it was seen from the other boats (which lay at anchor) to disappear into the horizon. Heinei clung to the boat tightly. When the mast blew away he held on to the ribs. He prayed hard and earnestly. Some eight hours after the storm began, Heinei found the boat in comparatively smooth water. She was flooded, and she was a wreck; but still she floated, and that was all he cared for at the moment. Moreover, Heinei felt encouraged, because between two dark clouds he could see an opening and some stars, though at present it was absolutely dark and the driving rain had not ceased. Suddenly, when Heinei was wondering how far he had been blown from sh.o.r.e or from his friends, crack!--he felt his boat plump into a rock. The shock was so violent (for the boat was still being driven fast by the gale) that our hero lost his balance and was thrown fully ten feet away. Falling on soft stuff, Heinei thought he was in the sea; but his hands suddenly realised that it was soft wet sand. Delighted at this discovery, he looked at the clouds and the sky, and came to the conclusion that in another hour it would be daylight. In the meantime he thanked the G.o.ds for his deliverance, and prayed for his friends and for his lord and master.

As morning broke Heinei arose stiff, weary, and hungry. Before the sun appeared he realised that he was on an island. No other land was in sight, and it puzzled him sorely to guess where he could be, for from all the Kishu islands the mainland could be easily seen.

'Oh, here is a new tree! I have never seen that in Kishu,' said he. 'And this flower--that also is new--while here is a b.u.t.terfly more brilliant than any I know.'

So saying and thinking, Heinei began looking about for food, and, being a j.a.panese, easily satisfied his appet.i.te with the sh.e.l.lfish which were abundantly strewn everywhere after the storm.

The island on which Heinei had been cast was fair in size--some two miles across and ten in circ.u.mference. There was one small hill in the middle, which Heinei resolved to ascend, to see if he could discover Kishu from the top of it. Accordingly he started. The undergrowth of bush was so great that Heinei made a detour to another bay. The trees were quite different from any he had ever seen before, and there were many kinds of palms. At last he found to his delight a well-worn path leading up the mountain. He took it; but when he came to a damp place in the way he was in no whit rea.s.sured, for there he saw footmarks which could have been made by no one who was not a giant--they were fully eighteen inches in length. A warrior belonging to Kishu must fear nothing, thought Heinei, and, arming himself with a stout stick, he proceeded. Near the top he found the opening to a somewhat large cave, and, nothing daunted, began to enter, prepared to meet anything. What was his surprise when an enormous man, fully eight feet in height, appeared before him, not more than ten feet from the entrance! He was a hideous, wild-looking creature, nearly black, with long unkempt hair, flas.h.i.+ng angry eyes, and a mouth that stretched from ear to ear, showing two glittering rows of teeth; and he wore no clothes except the skin of a wild-cat tied round his loins.

As soon as he saw Heinei he came to a standstill, and said, in j.a.panese, 'Who are you? how have you got here? and what have you come for?'

Makino Heinei answered these questions as fully as he thought necessary by telling his name and adding, 'I am a retainer of the Lord of Kishu, and was blown away by the storm after we had been hunting and holding manAuvres on Toma Island.'

'And where are these places you speak of? Remember that this island is unknown to the world and has been for thousands of years. I am its sole occupant, and wish to remain so. No matter how I came. I am here. My name is Tomaru, and my father was Yamaguchi Shoun, who died, with his master Toyotomi Hidetsugu, on Koyasan Mountain in 1563. Both died by their own hands; and I got here, no matter how, and here I intend to remain undisturbed. I heard of your Lord of Kishu and of the Tokugawa family before I left j.a.pan, and for that reason I will help you by giving you my old boat, in which I arrived. Come to the beach. I will send you off in the right direction, and if you continue sailing north-west you shall in time reach Kishu. But it is a long way off--a very long way.'

With that they walked down to the beach.

'See,' said Tomaru: 'the boat is well-nigh rotten, for it is many years since she was put here; but with luck you may reach Kishu. Stay--you must have some provision. I can give only dry fish and fruits; but to these you are welcome. And I must give you a present for your master, the Lord of Kishu. It is a kind of seaweed. You shall have some for yourself also. It is my great discovery on this island. No matter how bad a sword-cut you may get, it will stop the blood flowing and cure at once. Now, jump into the boat and row away. I like to be alone. You may speak of your adventure; but you are not to mention my name. Farewell!'

Heinei could only do as he was bid. Consequently, he made off. Rowing night and day and aided by favourable currents, he found himself off the coast of Kishu on the third day after leaving the island. The people were much astonished to see him alive, and the Lord of Kishu rejoiced, especially at the sword-cut-healing seaweed, which he had planted in the sea at a part of the coast which he renamed and called Nagusa-gori (District of the famous Seaweed).

Later Makino Heinei sailed again by permission of his Lord to get more seaweed. The island was found; but the giant had disappeared.

NOTE.--Mujinto Island, in the Pacific, is the group called Bonin Islands by Europeans.

25. O Tsuru Sees the Giant Carp.

XXI CHIKUBU ISLAND, LAKE BIWA.

MANY years ago, when I was a boy, there was a song about a Chinaman. It began: In China once there lived a man, And his name was Ding-dong-dang. His legs were long, and his feet were small, And this Chinese man couldn't walk at all.

Chorus: Chi-chi-Margie, Chi-chi-Marah, Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong dah, Kossi-kossi-ki, kossi-kossi-ka, Chikubu, Chikubu, Chikubu Chang.

Little in those days did I think that I should come across an island--or any other place, for the matter of that--which bore the name of part of this wild and idiotic chorus, 'Chikubu, Chikubu, Chikubu Chang.' It sounds truly wild. Well, so it is. I have found an island on Lake Biwa which is p.r.o.nounced and spelt exactly as in the chorus of this song of my youth. 'Chikubu' is there, and I am puzzled to know where the composer found it. In my j.a.panese I can't find it.

[paragraph continues] However, let us to the story. It is not a very good one; but, as it relates to the only island of importance in the lake, it is worth chronicling.

Chikubu-s.h.i.+ma is situated about two-thirds up towards the north-western end of Lake Biwa, in Omi Province. The lake is some thirty-five miles long and twelve broad. The island is holy, I believe, and it is said to have been caused by an earthquake nearly 600 years B.C. Fuji Mountain made its appearance at the same time. Thus we have (so far as we like to believe it) the geographical pedigree of Lake Biwa and its princ.i.p.al island.

The nearest land to Chikubu is Tsuzurao Cape, which is about two miles away. There, some three hundred years ago, dwelt two sisters, O Tsuru and Kame. They were fifteen and eleven respectively, and dwelt with their old and only uncle, their father and mother and all their other relations being dead. Tsuru (the crane) and Kame (the turtle) were devoted to each other; in fact, the poor girls clung to each other as the remnants of a family should cling. They loved each other. They were inseparable.

At that time there was much fear among the inhabitants of Tsuzurao Point of a large carp--a carp of such size that it was called 'The Master of Lake Biwa.' It was said that this fish ate dogs, cats, and sometimes people, if they were unwise enough to swim into water sufficiently deep for him to manAuvre in. His princ.i.p.al hover was in the waters surrounding Chikubu Island, at the northern end of the lake.

When O Tsuru reached the age of fifteen, and her sister O Kame was eleven, O Tsuru became sick with consumption; from bad she grew worse, and her poor little sister O Kame became quite disconsolate; she cried because of her sister's illness, and went by herself to pray at all the temples in the neighbourhood. Day after day she thought of nothing but her sister's illness; but all she did, poor child, was in vain. O Tsuru became worse.

In her great distress O Kame thought that she should venture to the wild and sacred island of Chikubu, there to pray to the G.o.ddess of Mercy, Kwannon. To do so with any chance of her prayers being heard, it was necessary that she should go alone. She would row off secretly that night.

After darkness had come and her uncle's household had gone to sleep, O Kame crept forth and went down to the edge of the lake, where her uncle's boat and many others lay. Getting into one, the lightest she could find, she sculled towards Chikubu Island. The sky was clear and the water glistened.

In less than an hour this whole-hearted child of Nippon was kneeling before the ever-pleasing and soothing figure of Kwannon, the G.o.ddess ever ready to listen to the prayers of the unhappy; and there she prayed to the full extent of her feelings, weeping between-times in sorrow for the sickness of her sister.

When poor O Kame had finished praying she got into her boat and began to row back to Tsuzurao. She had got within half-a-mile of that place when a terrible storm arose, and in the third squall her boat was capsized. O Kame was no swimmer, and as she sank into the depths of the lake the giant carp saw her, and instantly carried her off and devoured her.

Next morning there was consternation at Tsuzurao. When it was found that both O Kame San and one of the fishermen's boats were missing it was naturally surmised that she had gone out on the lake, and probably to Chikubu Island to pray to Kwannon.

Boats went off in search; but nothing could be found, save the marks of her footsteps from the sh.o.r.e to the shrine dedicated to Kwannon. On hearing this sad news, O Tsuru, who lay nigh unto death, became worse; but in spite of her sad condition she could not bear the idea of lingering on in the world without her sister O Kame. Consequently she resolved to destroy her life as near as she could think to the place where O Kame had died, so that her spirit might journey with hers until perhaps they should become born again together. At all events, it was clearly her duty to follow her sister.

When the dusk of evening arrived O Tsuru crept out from her room and gained the beach, where she, like her little sister, took the lightest boat which she could find, and rowed herself out, in spite of her weakness, to a spot where she thought that the carp might have killed her sister. There, standing in the bows of the boat, she cried aloud: 'Oh, mighty carp, that hast devoured my sister, devour me also, that our spirits may follow the same path and become reunited. It is for this I cast myself into the lake!

So saying, O Tsuru shut her eyes and jumped into the water. Down, down, down she went, until she reached the bottom. No sooner had she alighted there, feeling (curiously enough) no effects of being under water, than she heard her name called.

'Strange indeed,' thought she, 'that I should hear my name at the bottom of Lake Biwa!'

She opened her eyes, and beheld standing beside her an old priest. O Tsuru asked him who he was, and why he had called her.

'I was a priest,' he explained. 'Perhaps I am one now. At all events, I often come to the bottom of the lake. I know all about your little sister Kame, of her faithfulness and affection for you, and of yours for her; I know also of the storm which capsized her boat when she had been praying to Kwannon on Chikubu Island, and of her being taken and eaten by that horrible carp. Believe me, none of these are reasons why you should take your own life. Go back on earth, rather, and pray to Buddha for your sister's blessing and for her soul. I will see that you are avenged on the carp, and I will see that you get well and strong. Take my hand, so, and I will take you back on sh.o.r.e.'

Having said this and carried Tsuru to land, the priest disappeared. For some time she lay unconscious; but when she came fully to her senses O Tsuru found herself on Chikubu Island, and, feeling considerably stronger than she had felt for some time, she went to the shrine dedicated to Kwannon, and pa.s.sed the remainder of the night in prayer.

In the morning, having gone to the beach, she saw boats in the distance coming from Tsuzurao Point; but (what was more extraordinary) there lay, not ten feet from the sh.o.r.e where she stood, an enormous carp, fully nine feet in length, dead!

Among the search-boats that arrived was one containing her uncle and a priest.

Tsuru told her story. The carp was buried at a small promontory on the island, which is called Miyazaki. It was named Koizuka Miya-zaki (the Carp's Grave at Temple Cape).

O Tsuru lived to a ripe old age, and was never ill again. History tells of her at the age of seventy informing Ota n.o.bunaga, who came to destroy temples in the neighbourhood, that if he touched the shrines on Chikubu Island she herself would see to his destruction.

26. They Monkeys Listen to the Priest's Sermon.

XXII REINCARNATION.

IN the far-north and mountainous portion of Echigo Province is a temple which during the reign of the Emperor Ichijo had a curious story attached to it; and, though the Emperor Ichijo reigned so long ago as between the years 987 and 1011 A. D., the teller of the story a.s.sured me that he believed the temple to be in existence still.

The temple's name is Kinoto, and it is situated in the hills in wild woods, which in those days must have been almost virgin forest.

The monk who reigned supreme over the Kinoto Temple was a youngish man, but very devout; he read sacred sermons from the holy Buddhist Bible, aloud, twice a-day.

One day the good youth perceived that two monkeys had come down from the mountain and sat listening to his reading with serious faces and no tricks. He was amused, and, taking no notice, continued to read. As soon as he had finished, the monkeys went off into the hills.

The monk was surprised to see the monkeys appear at both his sermons next day; and when on the third day they came again he could not help asking why they came so regularly.

'We have come, holy father, because we like to hear the words and sermons of Buddha as read by yourself, and greatly do we desire to retain all the wisdom and virtues which we have heard you recite. Is it possible for you to copy out the great and holy Buddhist book?'

'It would be a very laborious affair,' answered the priest, highly astonished; 'but, so rare an interest is it that you animals take in the sermons of our Great Lord Buddha, I will make an effort to satisfy your wish, hoping that thereby you may be benefited.'

The monkeys bowed and left the priest, pleased with themselves and the promise they had obtained, while the priest set to at his gigantic labours of copying the Buddhist Bible. Some six or seven days later about five hundred monkeys came to the temple, each bearing parchment paper, which they laid before the priest, their foreman saying how deeply grateful they would be when they had got the copy of the Bible, so that they might know the laws and mend their ways; and, bowing again before the priest, they retired, all except the first two monkeys. These two set diligently to work to find food for the priest while he wrote. Day after day they went into the mountains, returning with wild fruits and potatoes, honey and mushrooms; and the priest wrote steadily on, being thus attended, until he had copied five volumes of the sacred book.

When he had reached the end of the fifth volume.

A .

27. The Priest Writes the First Five Volumes.

A the monkeys, for some unaccountable reason, failed to come, and the good priest was quite nervous on their account. The second day of their absence he went in search of them, fearing that they must have been overcome by some misfortune. Everywhere the priest found traces of their forages in his behalf,--branches broken off the wild fruit trees, scratchings and holes where they had been looking for wild potatoes. Evidently the monkeys had worked hard, and the poor priest felt deeply anxious on their account.

At last, when near the top of the mountain, his heart gave a bound and was filled with sorrow when he came to a hole which the monkeys had made in looking for wild potatoes--so deep that they had been unable to get out. No doubt both of them had died of broken hearts, fearing that the priest would think they had deserted him.

There remained nothing to do but to bury the monkeys and pray for their blessing; which he did. Shortly after this the priest was called away from the temple to another: so, as he saw no necessity to continue copying the Buddhist Bible, he put the five volumes he had copied into one of the pillars of the temple, which had a sort of shelf cupboard cut in it.

Forty years later there arrived at the temple one Kinomi-ta-ka Ason, who had become Governor or Lord of Echigo Province. He came with half of his retainers and domestics, and asked the priests if they knew anything of the unfinished copy of the Buddhist Bible. Was it in the temple still?

'No,' they said, 'we were none of us here at the time your Lords.h.i.+p mentions. But there is one old man, a servant, who is eighty-five years of age, and he may be able to tell you something. We will send for him.'

Shortly afterwards a man with flowing white beard was ushered in.

'Is it the old doc.u.ment that a priest began copying out for the monkeys you want? Well, if so, that has never been touched since, and is a matter of so little importance that I had nearly forgotten about it. The doc.u.ment is in a little secret shelf which is hollowed out in one of the main pillars of the temple. I will fetch it.'

Some ten minutes later the doc.u.ments were in the hands of Kinomi-ta-ka Ason, who was in ecstasy of delight at the sight of them. He told the priests and the old man that he was the Lord of Echigo Province, and that he had journeyed all the way to their temple to see if unfinished volumes of the Bible remained there.

'For,' he said, 'I was the senior of the two monkeys who were so anxious to obtain copies of the whole of our Lord Buddha's sermons; and, now that I have been born a man, I wish to complete them.'

Kinomi-ta-ka Ason was allowed to take the five volumes away with him, and for five years he kept copying out the sacred book. He copied three thousand volumes in all, and it is said that they are now kept in the Temple of Kinoto, in Echigo, as its most sacred treasure.

28. O Kinu San Inspects the Place Where Takadai Jiro Committed Suicide.

XXIII THE DIVING-WOMAN OF OISO BAY.

OISO, in the Province of Sagami, has become such a celebrated place as the chosen residence of the Marquis Ito and of several other high j.a.panese personages, that a story of a somewhat romantic nature, dating back to the Ninan period, may be interesting.

During one of the earlier years of the period, which lasted from '116 to 1169 A. D., a certain knight, whose name was Takadai Jiro, became ill in the town of Kamakura, where he had been on duty, and was advised to spend the hot month of August at Oiso, and there to give himself perfect rest, peace, and quietness.

Having obtained permission to do this, Takadai Jiro lost no time in getting to the place and settling himself down, as comfortably as was possible, in a small inn which faced the sea. Being a landsman who (with the exception of his service at Kamakura) had hardly ever seen the sea, Takadai was pleased to dwell in gazing at it both by day and by night, for, like most j.a.panese of high birth, he was poetical and romantic.

After his arrival at Oiso, Takadai felt weary and dusty. As soon as he had secured his room he threw off his clothes and went down to bathe. Takadai, whose age was about twenty-five years, was a good swimmer, and plunged into the sea without fear, going out for nearly half-a-mile. There, however, misfortune overtook him. He was seized with a violent cramp and began to sink. A fis.h.i.+ng-boat sculled by a man and containing a diving-girl happened to see him and went to the rescue; but by this time he had lost consciousness, and had sunk for the third time.

The girl jumped overboard and swam to the spot where he had disappeared, and, having dived deep, brought him to the surface, holding him there until the boat came up, when by the united efforts of herself and her father Takadai was hauled on board, but not before he had realised that the soft arm that clung round his neck was that of a woman.

When he was thoroughly conscious again, before they had reached the sh.o.r.e, Takadai saw that his preserver was a beautiful ama (diving-girl) aged not more than seventeen. Such beauty he had never seen before--not even in the higher circles in which he was accustomed to move. Takadai was in love with his brave saviour before the boat had grounded on the pebbly beach. Determined in some way to repay the kindness he had received, Takadai helped to haul their boat up the steep beach and then to carry their fish and nets to their little thatched cottage, where he thanked the girl for her n.o.ble and gallant act in saving him, and congratulated her father on the possession of such a daughter. Having done this, he returned to his inn, which was not more than a few hundred yards away.

From that time on the soul of Takadai knew no peace. Love of the maddest kind was on him. There was no sleep for him at night, for he saw nothing but the face of the beautiful diving-girl, whose name (he had ascertained) was Kinu. Try as he might, he could not for a moment put her out of his mind. In the daytime it was worse, for O Kinu was not to be seen, being out at sea with her father, diving for the haliotis sh.e.l.l and others; and it was generally the dusk of evening before she returned, and then, in the dim light, he could not see her.

Once, indeed, Takadai tried to speak to O Kinu; but she would have nothing to say to him, and continued busying herself in a.s.sisting her father to carry the nets and fish up to their cottage. This made Takadai far worse, and he went home wild, mad, and more in love than ever.

At last his love grew so great that he could endure it no longer. He felt that at all events it would be a relief to declare it. So he took his most confidential servant into the secret, and despatched him with a letter to the fisherman's cottage. O Kinu San did not even write an answer, but told the old servant to thank his master in her behalf for his letter and his proposal of marriage. 'Tell him also,' said she, 'that no good could come of a union between one of so high a birth as he and one so lowly as I. Such a badly matched pair could never make a happy home.' In answer to the servant's expostulation, she merely added, 'I have told you what to tell your master: take him the message.'

Takadai Jiro, on hearing what O Kinu had said, was not angry. He was simply astonished. It was beyond his belief that a fisher-girl could refuse such an offer in marriage as himself--a samurai of the upper cla.s.s. Indeed, instead of being angry, Takadai was so startled as to be rather pleased than otherwise; for he thought that perhaps he had taken the fair O Kinu San a little too suddenly, and that this first refusal was only a bit of coyness on her part that was not to be wondered at. 'I will wait a day or two,' thought Takadai. 'Now that Kinu knows of my love, she may think of me, and so become anxious to see me. I will keep out of the way. Perhaps then she will be as anxious to see me as I am to see her.'

Takadai kept to his own room for the next three days, believing in his heart that O Kinu must be pining for him. On the evening of the fourth day he wrote another letter to O Kinu, more full of love than the first, despatched his old servant, and waited patiently for the answer.