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WARRIORS OF OLD JAPAN 
 AND OTHER STORIES 
 

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 RUSHED UPON THE MONSTER AND QUICKLY DESPATCHED HIM 
 
 (page 33) 
 
WARRIORS OF OLD 
 
 g JAPAN g 
 
 jk AND OTHER jk^ 
 
 ^ STORIES ^ 
 
 i^ YEI THEODORA O^AKI V^\ 
 
 Jib AUTHOR OF THE JAPANESE "J- 
 
 FAIRY BOOK 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 BY SHUSUI OKAKURA 
 
 AND OTHER JAPANESE ARTISTS 
 
 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 1909 
 
 H 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY YEI THEODORA OZAKI 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 Published November zgog 
 
 \05" 
 
PREFACE 
 
 THE kind reception given to " The Japanese 
 Fairy Book " has encouraged me to venture 
 on a second volume of stories from Japan. I have 
 invented none of these stories. They are taken from 
 many different sources, and in clothing them with 
 an English dress my work has been that of adapter 
 rather than translator. In picturesqueness of con- 
 ception Japanese stories yield the palm to none. 
 And they are rich in quaint expressions and dainty 
 conceits. But they are apt to be written in a 
 style almost too bald. This defect the professional 
 story-teller remedies by colouring his story as he 
 tells it. In the same way I have tried to brighten 
 the rather bare structure of a story, where it 
 seemed to need such treatment, with touches of 
 local colour in order to give emphasis to the nar- 
 rative, and at the same time make the story more 
 attractive to the foreign reader. Whether I have 
 succeeded or not, the reader must judge for him- 
 self. I shall be satisfied if in some small measure 
 I have been able to do for Japanese folk-lore what 
 Andrew Lang has done for folk-lore in general, 
 
 V 
 
and if the tales in their Enghsh dress are found 
 to retain the essential features of Japanese stories. 
 
 Miss Fusa Okamoto and Mr. Taketaro Matsuda, 
 my brother, Nobumori Ozaki, and one or two 
 friends have given me help in translation. 
 
 For the introductory note I am indebted to Mr. 
 J. H. Gubbins, C. M. G., of the British Embassy, 
 Tokyo. 
 
 Most of the illustrations have been drawn by 
 Mr. Shusui Okakura, of the Peers' College, to whose 
 painstaking and patient collaboration grateful ac- 
 knowledgment is due. A few of the pictures were 
 drawn by Mr. Tsutsui, of the "Jiji Shimbun," 
 and some of the historical pictures by Mr. Kokuho 
 Utagawa and Mr. Tosen Toda. 
 
 Yei Theodora Ozaki. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Introductory Note xi 
 
 Madame Yukio Ozaki xiii 
 
 I. Hachiro Tametomo, the Archer i 
 
 II. Gen Sanmi Yorimasa, the Knight 25 
 
 III. The Story of Yoshitsune S" 
 
 IV. The Story of Benkei 77 
 
 V. The Goblin of Oyeyama 109 
 
 VI. KiDOMARU the Robber, Raiko the Brave, and 
 
 the Goblin Spider 133 
 
 VII. The Story of the Pots of Plum, Cherry, and 
 
 Pine 151 
 
 VIII. Shiragiku, or White Chrysanthemum 169 
 
 IX. The Princess of the Bowl 199 
 
 X. The Story of Lazy Taro 233 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Rushed upon the monster and quickly despatched 
 HIM (page 33) Frontispiece 
 
 Tametomq began to rise in the air 24 
 
 YORIMASA could NOT TELL WHICH WAS THE LADY 
 
 AYAME 38 
 
 Could overcome ten or twenty small tengu in 
 
 THE twinkling OF AN EYE 64 
 
 The phantom host drew nearer to the boat 98 
 
 Died standing with his face to the enemy 108 
 
 The head flew up into the air 130 
 
 They entered the cave and found a monster spider 150 
 Shiragiku was about to dash down into the river 192 
 Saisho and the bowl-wearer were at last married 226 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE 
 
 THOSE who three years ago welcomed the 
 appearance of "The Japanese Fairy Book " 
 will be grateful to Madame Ozaki for the new 
 treat afforded in the present volume. " The Jap- 
 anese Fairy Book " appealed alike to the child, in 
 or out of the nursery, to the student of folk-lore, 
 and to the lover of things Japanese. To all of these 
 the stories here told will come as old friends with 
 new faces. 
 
 In a country whose people are born story-tell- 
 ers, where story-telling long since rose to the 
 dignity of a profession, and the story-teller is sure 
 of an appreciative audience, whether at a village 
 fair or in a city theatre, the authoress had not to 
 go far afield in search of her materials. But the 
 range of this class of literature is wide, embracing 
 as it does all that goes to make folk-lore, legend- 
 ary history, fairy tales, and myths. 
 
 From all these sources the present stories are 
 drawn, and in each case the selection is justified 
 and the story loses nothing in the telling. The 
 simple directness of narrative peculiar to Japanese 
 
 xi 
 
tales is not lost in the English setting, and the 
 little glimpses we are given into Japanese verse 
 may tempt the reader to do like Oliver Twist 
 and " ask for more." 
 
 J. H. GUBBINS. 
 Tokyo, May, 1909. 
 
MADAME YUKIO OZAKI 
 
 A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, BY MRS. HUGH FRASER 
 
 IN the attempt to describe a character it is wise 
 to begin, if possible, with its distinguishing at- 
 tribute, the one which will leave its mark on the 
 time, after the popularity of definite achievements 
 may have passed away. So I will say, before 
 gomg any further into the subject of this sketch, 
 that if I were asked to single out the person who, 
 to-day, most truly apprehends the points of contact 
 and divergence in the thought of East and West, 
 I would name the gentle dark-eyed lady who is the 
 Ught of an ancient house in the loveliest part of 
 Tokyo, a spot where, as she sits under the great 
 pines of her garden, she can hear the long Pacific 
 rollers breaking on the white beaches of Japan 
 and Usten to the wind as it murmurs its haunting 
 songs of other homes in distant lands where she 
 is known and loved. For though Yei Theodora 
 Ozaki is a daughter of the East in heart and soul 
 and parentage, one to whom all the fine ways and 
 thoughts of it come by nature, she is also a child 
 
 xiii 
 
of the West in training, in culture, in the intellect- 
 ual justice which enables her to discern the great- 
 nesses and smile indulgently at the littlenesses of 
 both. 
 
 Her father. Baron Saburo Ozaki, the descendant 
 of a Kyoto samurai family, a member of the House 
 of Peers, and a Privy Councillor, was one of the 
 first Japanese who went to England to study its 
 language and institutions. While there, he made 
 the acquaintance of Miss Bathia Catherine Mor- 
 rison, and shortly afterwards she became his wife. 
 This lady was the daughter of William Morrison, 
 Esq., a profound scholar and linguist, who would 
 have been more famous had not his attainments', 
 great as they were, been overshadowed by those of 
 his brother, the Rev. Alexander Morrison, whose 
 translations of the works of German philosophers 
 and historians placed much valuable material at the 
 disposal of English readers. 
 
 William Morrison's name, however, was known 
 and loved in Japan many years before his Httle 
 granddaughter Yei (the Illustrious Flower Petal) 
 was born, for he was the instructor of most of the 
 Japanese great men who went to England to learn 
 the ways and speech of modern enlightenment. 
 Prince Mori, Marquis Inouye, Baron Suyematsu, 
 and many others who afterwards rose to eminence, 
 were among his pupils, and when Baron Ozaki 
 became his son-in-law it would have been natural 
 
 xiv 
 
to conclude that Miss Morrison was fairly familiar 
 already with many sides of the complex Japanese 
 character. But the union was not a happy one ; 
 and when, several years later, I made her acquaint- 
 ance, I thought I could divine the reason. She 
 was a charming and intelligent woman, but she 
 was English to the backbone, and it was impos- 
 sible for her to appreciate or sympathize with any- 
 thing that was not British. And Saburo Ozaki 
 was as fundamentally Japanese. 
 
 Five years after their marriage they separated, 
 by mutual consent ; three little girls, of whom Yei 
 Theodora was the second, remained in England 
 with their mother and received a very thorough 
 English education. Mr. Morrison took great in- 
 terest in O Yei and brought her many books, which 
 she devoured greedily, having inherited all his love 
 of literature and learning. I have often heard her 
 say that whatever ability she possesses in that 
 direction is due to her English grandfather. 
 
 She was just sixteen when Baron Ozaki insisted 
 upon her coming out to live with him in Japan, 
 and she gladly complied with his wishes. On 
 meeting her after their long separation, he was de- 
 lighted with her charm and grace, and pleasantly 
 surprised to find that in appearance she was quite 
 a Japanese maiden, small and slender, with dark 
 eyes, pale complexion, and a mass of glossy black 
 hair. Accustomed to rule as an autocrat over his 
 
 XV 
 
household, he decreed that henceforth she was to 
 be only Japanese. She was quite willing to please 
 him in this, so far as she could ; the pretty pic- 
 turesque ways of her new home appealed to her 
 artistic instinct, and the traditions and ideals of 
 Japanese life at once claimed her for their own ; 
 her mental inheritance responded to them joyfully. 
 But this was not quite enough for her father. 
 His duty, from his point of view, was to arrange a 
 suitable marriage for her as soon as possible ; but 
 here he met with an unexpected difficulty. The 
 example of her parents' estrangement had inspired 
 the girl with something like terror of the married 
 state, and she had grown up with the resolve not 
 to run the risk of contracting a like ill-assorted 
 union. In consequence, she found herself in op- 
 position to her father, an impossible situation in a 
 Japanese family, and especially undesirable where 
 there were younger children growing up, as in this 
 case, for Baron Ozaki had married again after his 
 return to his own country. Various other circum- 
 stances also combined to make her decide at this 
 time to become independent. Her knowledge of 
 English qualified her to give instruction in that 
 language, and her superior education and well- 
 known social position brought her many pupils in 
 a land where teaching is looked upon as the highest 
 of all professions. 
 
 In this way many interesting friendships were 
 
 xvi 
 
formed with Japanese girls, one of whom opened 
 for her the doors of that treasure house of story, 
 the ancient lore and romance of Japan. Here the 
 ardent sensitive mind was in its element. She 
 says : " During those early years I loved the 
 heroes and heroines of my country with passionate 
 and romantic devotion. They were the companions 
 of my solitude, royal and remote, yet near and po- 
 tential as the white fire of girlhood's idealisms ; 
 they peopled my visions with beautiful images, 
 tender and brave and loyal. In those days I was 
 often reproached with being a dreamer, but my 
 dreams were all of fair and noble things. The old 
 stories had taken possession of me : they were a 
 wonder, a joy, an exaltation, though I little im- 
 agined that I would ever write them down." 
 
 It was during this period of her life that there 
 came a temporary parting of the ways and Europe 
 again claimed O Yei for a time. My husband was 
 the British Minister in Tokyo, and we proposed 
 to Baron Ozaki's daughter that she should come 
 and live with us, acting as my secretary and com- 
 panion. She accepted, and became not only a 
 dearly loved friend, but an invaluable assistant to 
 me, contributing very materially to the success of 
 my various books on Japan by her profound know- 
 ledge of the coxmtry and the people. When I re- 
 turned to Europe she followed me, and remained 
 with us in Italy for about two years. A part of 
 
 xvii 
 
this time she spent in the house of my brother, 
 Marion Crawford, acting as his amanuensis, and 
 cataloguing his great library with such precision 
 and intelligence that he remarked to me, " Miss 
 Ozaki is a very exceptional person. I had not im- 
 agined that the work could be so well done." 
 
 My brother discerned her literary talent and 
 first suggested to her that she should write and 
 publish the stories of old Japan which she used to 
 tell in the family circle to the delight of old and 
 young. " You have the gifts of imagination and 
 of language," he said to her. " You really ought 
 to lecture on those stories. You would have a great 
 success." 
 
 Italy was a revelation to O Yei ; her love of 
 colour and romance was satisfied there, and the 
 never-silent music of the South, the gay yet 
 haunting songs of the people, found a ready echo 
 in her sweet voice, her delicate guitar-playing. 
 But her heart had always turned faithfully to her 
 English mother, and when I went to live in Lon- 
 don she passed some time there, contributing her 
 first stories and articles to the English magazines. 
 Then she returned to Japan, where the famous 
 educator, Mr. Fukuzawa, had offered her a post in 
 his school. 
 
 Of all her varied experiences this was the 
 strangest. The slight shy girl had a class of two 
 hundred young men and boys to instruct and keep 
 
 xviii 
 
in order, but from the crowded classroom she re- 
 turned to the eeriest and loneliest of dwellings. 
 She says : " I lived in the upper storey of an old 
 Buddhist temple, really enjoying the queerness and 
 out-of-the-worldness of it. Under my windows 
 was a graveyard, where on summer nights I used to 
 look for ghosts ; but I had a terrible time with 
 the cold and the draughts and the rats, in winter. 
 Sometimes I was awakened at dawn by the sound 
 of gongs and bells, and would look out of my 
 window to see a funeral procession marshalled in 
 the courtyard." In her spare time she continued 
 to write, and various articles and fairy stories of 
 hers appeared in the " Wide World," the " Girls' 
 Realm," and the "Lady's Realm." At last her 
 health broke down and she gave up her post at 
 the school and devoted herself more closely to lit- 
 erary work, which resulted, in 1903, in the publica- 
 tion of " The Japanese Fairy Book," a work which 
 has now become a classic. At the same time she 
 belonged to several of the societies, patriotic, 
 educational, and charitable, by which the Japanese 
 ladies so quietly yet so efficiently aid the cause 
 of true progress in their country. Indeed it was 
 in the interests of Japanese womanhood that she 
 first took up her pen, resolved to dispel the hope- 
 less misconceptions which existed in regard to it 
 in western minds. To use her own words : " When 
 I was last in England and Europe and found by the 
 
 xix 
 
questions asked me that very mistaken notions 
 about Japan, and especially about its women, 
 existed generally, I determined if possible to write 
 so as to dispel these wrong conceptions. Hence 
 my stories of Japanese heroines, Aoyagi and Kesa 
 Gozen [in the ' Nineteenth Century '] and Tomaye 
 Gozen, last year [' Lady's Pictorial ']. It has been 
 my hope too that the ancient tales and legends, 
 retold in English, may show to the West some of 
 the good old ideals and sentiments for which the 
 Japanese lived and died." 
 
 But other than purely studious interests entered 
 into O Yei's life ; she had many friends in the 
 Court and Diplomatic circles, and they drew her 
 more and more into society, where she was always 
 a welcome addition to any gathering. She saw every 
 side of the national existence. Imperial, official, 
 scholastic, and was equally intimate with the small 
 but brilliant foreign society. Her single state 
 was a mystery to all except her closest friends ; 
 they knew that she had resolved never to marry 
 until she met a man who should fulfil all her 
 ideals. 
 
 She met him at last. In 1904 she made the ac- 
 quaintance of Yukio Ozaki, the Mayor of Tokyo. 
 Each had long known of the other, and various 
 amusing complication^ had occurred through mis- 
 takes of the postman, who, owing to identity of 
 name (there was no connection of family), some- 
 
 XX 
 
times got hopelessly confused, and delivered the 
 Mayor's letters to the young lady and the young 
 lady's correspondence to the Mayor. From the mo- 
 ment when the two first met, at a big dinner party, 
 and laughed together over the postman's mistakes, 
 the result was a foregone conclusion. Mr. Ozakihad 
 already learned all that his friends could tell him 
 about the intellectual, attractive girl whose inde- 
 pendent, resolute spirit had in no way marred her 
 gentle womanUness ; she knew him equally well by 
 reputation — and to hear of Yukio Ozaki, in Japan, 
 is to admire and respect him. Many were the par- 
 ents, both wealthy and noble, who after his first 
 wife's death would gladly have had him for a son- 
 in-law. His irreproachable morals and elevated 
 character earned for him during this period the title 
 " Nikon no Dai Ichi no O musoko San," the " First 
 (best) bridegroom in all Japan." But he too nursed 
 an ideal, and was not to be drawn into new ties until 
 he had found it. Given two such beings, it needed 
 but one kindly touch of Fate's wand to bring them 
 together. The result was a marriage happy in its 
 perfect romance and blest with the deep sympathy 
 of tastes and interests which forms the surest foun- 
 dation for married felicity. 
 
 I returned to Japan a few weeks before the wed- 
 ding took place, and counted myself fortunate in 
 gaining the friendship of Yukio Ozakx. My first 
 impressions of him could be summed up in a very 
 
 xxi 
 
few words — strength, calmness, largeness of heart. 
 The fearless glance of his eyes, the noble carriage 
 of his fine dark head, the quiet voice and direct yet 
 eloquent speech — all this was the fitting index 
 to a character which through many long years of 
 public stress and strain has never let even a passing 
 shadow flit Over its crystal sincerity and loyalty. 
 Political corruption, temptations of personal ambi- 
 tion, lures of advancement, popular feeling, the 
 outcries of opponents and the applause of adher- 
 ents, all these have assailed him in vain, have 
 fallen like broken arrows from the shield of his 
 spotless integrity. A Japanese writer says of him : 
 " Mr. Yukio Ozaki has had a wonderful political 
 career. He is a born orator, the most powerful de- 
 bater, and the ablest writer, in Japan ; a staunch 
 fighter for the cause of liberty and the interests 
 of the people ; one of the political magnates, and 
 a potent factor in the introduction of the Meiji 
 civilization ; a man who is above every form of po- 
 litical corruption ; once the Minister for Education, 
 and now the highly renowned mayor of Tokyo who 
 has never missed a single election for the twenty- 
 five Sessions of the Diet of Japan." 
 
 Mr. Ozaki is a strenuous and untiring worker. 
 In his character of Mayor no detail is too small for 
 him to go into patiently. Drainage, street cleaning, 
 water supply, market regulations, everything that 
 can conduce to the health and morals of the city 
 
 xxii 
 
passes under his watchful eyes, and Tokyo is gov- 
 erned marvellously well. His scrupulous conscien- 
 tiousness leads him to take upon himself a thousand 
 minutiae which another man would hand over to 
 his subordinates. I shall never forget the search- 
 ing orders that were promulgated to prepare the 
 capital for the returh of the troops from Manchu- 
 ria. Hundreds of thousands of men, war-worn and 
 ragged, with all their invalids, were to be arriving 
 for months together, and no one could tell what 
 germs of disease might come with them. So before 
 the first detachment reached Shimbashi, a house- 
 to-house visitation was made, the most thorough 
 cleaning and clearing away of rubbish was insisted 
 upon, and the entire foundations of the dwellings 
 as well as out-houses and gateways were copiously 
 sprinkled with chloride of lime. Tokyo sneezed, 
 Tokyo wept, but Tokyo had no epidemics. 
 
 Besides all his responsibilities as Mayor, a post 
 which he has filled for seven years, Mr. Ozaki has 
 great political duties to occupy his time. He has 
 steadily refused to attach himself to any party in 
 particular, and, though he has many supporters in 
 the Diet, is an absolutely independent statesman, 
 judging all measures from his only standpoints — 
 right and wrong, and the best interests of the 
 country. This uncompromising attitude has made 
 many enemies for him, but even they admire and 
 respect him, knowing that he is a man who has 
 
 xxiii 
 
said to evil, " Stand thou on that side, for on this 
 am I." ' 
 
 There is another side to his character, the love 
 of all that is beautiful and inspiring. No one who 
 saw the " Triumphal Return " of Admiral Togo can 
 forget the splendid scene of that imposing cere- 
 mony, attended by half a million people and so 
 deftly organized that all could see the hero and the 
 man who welcomed him in the country's name. 
 The welcome came from the nation's heart and 
 found adequate expression in Yukio Ozaki's mag- 
 nificent address, delivered in the voice whose clear 
 tones had ever sounded in the cause of true pa- 
 triotism. The thrill of deepest feeling was in them 
 that day, and I, who stood near the speaker, saw 
 that his hand trembled and his eyes were suffused 
 with emotion as he welcomed the beloved old sailor 
 back, in glory, to the country he had saved. 
 
 One more superb pageant — one where Yukio 
 Ozaki and his bride were host and hostess — re- 
 turns to my memory, the fete given to Prince 
 Arthur of Connaught in 1906. This was the largest 
 social reunion that has ever taken place in the East, 
 and most regally was the illustrious visitor enter- 
 tained. In the beautifully wooded park a banqueting 
 pavilion had been erected in the purest style of an- 
 cient Japanese architecture, severely harmonious 
 in outline and detail. The interior contained, among 
 ' F. W. Myers. 
 
 xxiv 
 
other decorations, a great collection of rare Japanese 
 flowers, shrubs, and dwarf trees — pines and maples 
 hundreds of years old, and, from hoary trunk to 
 new-born feathery branch tip, perfect miniatures 
 of their spreading, towering brethren of the forest. 
 The crowning feature of the day was the Daimyo's 
 procession, a mile long, which defiled before our 
 eyes across the great lawns in the open air. For 
 this the last survivors of the feudal epoch had been 
 sought out and brought in from every part of Japan, 
 old samurai who had accompanied their imperious 
 masters in many a famous progress and had cut 
 down all and any who had the temerity to cross 
 their path. In joyful arrogance they came to show 
 a degenerate world the martial splendours of their 
 younger days, and the sight was enough to make 
 one overlook the wrongs and dangers of the dead 
 time and only regret that so much colour and fire 
 had to be swept away to make room for the na- 
 tion's new life. 
 
 For things like these all art lovers are grateful 
 to Yukio Ozaki, but his two or three intimate 
 friends have more exquisite moments to thank him 
 for. "Let me take you to my favourite garden," 
 he said one day when I was with him and his 
 wife, " the Garden of the Seven Flowers of Au- 
 tumn." 
 
 The sun was setting as we drove for miles be- 
 side the river-bank ; leaving the city far behind, 
 
 XXV 
 
we came, through leafy lanes, to a half-hidden gate 
 through which we passed into a dreamland of misty 
 beauty, all shadowy and subdued in the late October 
 twilight. Great palemoonflowers swung, like scarce- 
 lit lamps, from tree and trellis ; feathery autumn 
 grasses waved their plumes below. The dark vel- 
 vety paths led to dim monuments on whose grey 
 stones we could feel rather than read the deep- 
 cut characters of classic poems. All was imbued 
 with the tender melancholy which brings repose, 
 not pain ; and even now, in hours of stress and 
 weariness, my memory turns to the starlit peace 
 that reigns o' nights in the spirit-haunted Garden 
 of the Seven Flowers of Autumn. 
 
 Things like these mean more to Yukio Ozaki and 
 his wife than all the social and public side of their 
 existence. Both have the proud delicate reserves 
 of the aristocrat of mind and soul, and escape when- 
 ever they can from the publicity which has been 
 forced upon them. It required much persuasion to 
 obtain their permission for this sketch to be pub- 
 Ushed. Madame Ozaki's last words on the subject 
 were : " It is true that my life is varied and ex- 
 ceedingly interesting. One night I may dine at a 
 State banquet with Cabinet Ministers and foreign 
 Ambassadors, or with distinguished visitors like 
 Mr. and Mrs. Taft, who recently visited this coun- 
 try ; the next will find me with a purely Japanese 
 party at the Maple Club. I assist at the Court func- 
 
 xxvi 
 
tions, the Imperial wedding receptions;! act as 
 sponsor or go-between at Japanese marriage cere- 
 monies ; I see all the ins and outs of Japanese life. 
 I seem to live in the heart of two distinct civiUza- 
 tions, those of the East and the West, but the 
 East is my spirit's fatherland. My mind still turns 
 for companionship to the great ones of the Past, 
 the heroines of my country's history. I find greater 
 pleasure in the old classical drama of the ' No,' 
 with its Buddhist teachings and ideals, its human 
 tragedies of chivalry and of sorrow, than in all the 
 sensational and spectacular modern drama. But 
 my greatest happiness is in my home life, in the 
 companionship of my baby daughter, in the few 
 short hours that my husband can snatch from his 
 work to devote to me. If you must write about 
 us, tell people about Yukio — he is so good and 
 great. I have no wish tp be mentioned apart 
 from him." 
 
 Mary Crawford Eraser. 
 
 Note : Mr. Ozaki's collected works have just 
 been published in Japan ; they include many essays 
 on public and literary topics, original poems, and 
 a translation into Japanese of the Life of Lord 
 Beaconsfield. 
 
 Madame Ozaki's writings include " The Shinto 
 Fire-Walking," " The Hot Water Ordeal," "Nikko 
 Festival," " Singing Insects of Japan," and many 
 
 xxvii 
 
articles on travel and folk-lore, "The Japanese Fairy 
 Book," "Japanese in Time of War," "Japanese 
 Peeresses in Tableaux," "Stories of Japanese He- 
 roines," "Buddha's Crystal" (in 1908), and "Jap- 
 anese Girls' Home Accomplishments " (in 1909). 
 
HACHIRO TAMETOMO, THE 
 ARCHER 
 
HACHIRO TAMETOMO, THE 
 ARCHER 
 
 LONG, long ago there lived in Japan a man 
 named Hachiro Tametomo, who became fa- 
 mous as the most skilful archer in the whole of the 
 realm at that time. Hachiro means " the eighth," 
 and he was so called because he was the eighth son 
 of his father. General Tameyoshi of the house of 
 Minamoto. Yoshitomo, who afterwards became 
 such a great figure in Japanese history, was his 
 elder brother. Tametomo was therefore uncle to 
 the Shogun Yoritomo and the hero Yoshitsune, 
 of whom you will soon read. He belonged to an 
 illustrious family indeed. 
 
 As a child Hachiro gave promise of being a 
 very strong man, and as he grew older this pro- 
 mise was more than fulfilled. He early showed a 
 love of archery, and his left arm being four inches 
 longer than his right, there was no one who could 
 bend the bow better or send the arrow farther than 
 he could. By nature Hachiro was a rough, wild 
 boy who did not know what fear was, and he loved 
 to challenge his elder brothers to fight. He ever 
 
 3 
 
a 
 ^ 
 
 ir 
 « 
 
 grew wilder as he grew older, till at last he acted 
 so rudely and wilfully, respecting and obeying no 
 one set over him, that even his own father found 
 him unmanageable. 
 
 Now it happened when Hachiro was thirteen 
 years old that a learned man, named Fujiwara-no- 
 Shinsei, came to the Palace, of the Emperor one 
 day to give a lecture on a certain book. During 
 the lecture he said that there could not be found 
 in the whole of Japan a warrior whose skill in 
 archery could match that of Kiyomori, the chief 
 of the Taira clan, or of Yorimasa, the Minamoto 
 knight. These two knights, though belonging to 
 two different clans, were the best archers through- 
 out the land. Now Hachiro, when he heard these 
 words, laughed aloud in scorn, and said, so that 
 every one might hear him, that Fujiwara-no-Shin- 
 sei was right about Yorimasa, but to call their 
 enemy, that coward of a Kiyomori, a clever archer, 
 only showed what a foolish and ignorant man Fu- 
 jiwara-no-Shinsei was. 
 
 This rude speech, so contrary to the rules of 
 Japanese courtesy, which commands young people 
 to maintain a respectful and humble silence in the 
 presence of their elders, made Fujiwara very 
 angry. When the lecture was finished, he there- 
 fore sent for Tametomo and rebuked him sternly, 
 for his behaviour, but the daring Tametomo, in- 
 stead of being ashamed of his unmannerly conduct 
 
 4 
 
and prostrating himself in apology before the 
 learned man, would not listen to anything he had 
 to say, and was so boisterous in declaring that he 
 was right that Fujiwara gave up his task of cor- 
 rection as a hopeless one. 
 
 But the lad's father, Tameyoshi, when he heard 
 of what had happened, was very angry with his 
 son for daring to dispute with his elder and supe- 
 rior, especially in the sacred precincts of the Pal- 
 ace. He was so wroth indeed that at last he refused 
 to see him or to keep him any longer under his 
 roof, and to punish him he sent him far away from 
 his home to the island of Kiushiu. 
 
 Now Tametomo, like the wilful, headstrong boy 
 that he was, did not mind his banishment at all ; on 
 the contrary, he felt like a hound let loose from 
 the leash, and rejoiced in his liberty, even though 
 he had incurred his father's displeasure. 
 
 When he reached the island of Kiushiu he made 
 his way to the province of .Higo, and finally set- 
 tled down in the plain of Kumamoto. Now that 
 Tametomo found himself free to do just as he 
 liked, his thirst for conflict became so great that 
 he could not restrain himself. He gathered round 
 him a band of fighters as wild as himself and chal- 
 lenged the men in all the neighbouring provinces 
 to come out and match their strength against his. 
 In twenty battles which followed this challenge 
 Tametomo was never once defeated, so great was 
 
 5 
 

 his strength, and his cleverness in directing his 
 soldiers. He was like a silkworm eating up the' 
 mulberry tree. Just as the silkworm devours one 
 leaf after another, with slow but sure relentless- 
 ness, so Tametomo fought and fought the in- 
 habitants of the provinces round about till he had 
 brought them all into subjection under him. By 
 the time he was eighteen years old he had made 
 himself chief of a large band of outlaws, distin- 
 guished for their reckless bravery, and with them 
 he had mastered the whole of Kiushiu, the western 
 part of Japan. It was now that the name of Chin- 
 sei was given him on account of his having con- 
 quered the West. Ckin means "to put down," and 
 set means the " West." 
 
 Tidings travelled slowly in those days, for there 
 were no railways or telegraph wires forming a net-^ 
 work of lightning speed communication across the 
 land, and all carrying of news was done on foot 
 by messengers ; so it was a long time before the 
 Government at the capital heard of the wild and 
 lawless doings of Chinsei Hachiro Tametomo, but 
 at last his daring exploits became known, and the 
 Government decided to interfere and to put a stop 
 to his outlawry. They sent a regiment of soldiers 
 to hunt him down and take him prisoner, but Ta- 
 metomo and his band were not only strong and 
 fearless, but sharp of wit, and in the frequent 
 skirmishes that took place they always came out 
 
 6 
 
victorious. At last the soldiers gave up their task 
 of capturing him, for they found it impossible to 
 overcome him and nothing would make Tametomo 
 surrender. So the general returned to the capital 
 and confessed that his expedition had failed. The 
 Government now decided to arrest the outlaw's 
 father, Tameyoshi, and so try to bring the rebel 
 to bay. Tameyoshi was therefore seized and pun- 
 ished for being the parent of such an incorrigible 
 rebel. 
 
 Now even the wilful Tametomo was moved and 
 distressed when he heard of what had happened 
 to his father, because of him. Although he was 
 undisciplined by nature, and ever ready to rebel 
 against all authority, yet hidden deep in his heart 
 there was still a sense of duty to his father, and on 
 this his enemies had counted. He knew that it was 
 inexcusable to let his father suffer punishment for 
 his misdoings. As soon as the bad tidings reached 
 him, he gave up without the least hesitation all 
 the land in Kiushiu, which had cost him several 
 years of hard fighting to wrest from the inhabit- 
 ants, and taking with him only ten of his men, 
 with all the speed he could make, he went up to 
 the capital. 
 
 As soon as he reached the city he sent in a 
 document signed and sealed in his blood, asking 
 pardon of the Government for all his former of- 
 fences, and begging that his father might be re- 
 
 7 
 
3 
 
 leased at once. He then waited calmly and quietly 
 for his sentence of punishment to be declared. 
 
 Now when those in authority saw his filial piety 
 and his good conduct at this crisis, they could not 
 find it in their hearts to treat him with severity. 
 
 " Even this man who has behaved like a demon 
 can feel so much for his father," they exclaimed ; 
 and merely rebuking him for his lawlessness they 
 handed him over to his father, whom they had set 
 free. 
 
 At this time civil war broke out in the land, for 
 two brothers, sons of the late ex-Emperor Toba, 
 aspired to sit on the Imperial throne. Owing to 
 the favouritism of their father the elder brother, 
 Sutoku, was forced to abdicate and retire, while 
 Go-Shirakawa, the younger brother, was put on the 
 throne. On his deathbed the ex-Emperor Toba 
 (also called the Pontiff-Emperor) had foreseen that 
 there would be strife between the two, and left 
 sealed instructions in case of emergency. On open- 
 ing this document it was found to contain a com- 
 mand to all the principal generals to support 
 Go-Shirakawa. 
 
 Hence the great chief of the Taira, Kiyomori, 
 and Tametomo's eldest brother, Yoshitomo, — in- 
 deed all the warriors of repute and strength, — 
 supported Go-Shirakawa, while such nobles as 
 Yorinaga and Fujiwara-no-Shinsei, who knew no- 
 thing of fighting, sided with the retired Emperor 
 
 8 
 
Sutoku. Yorinaga, it is said, could not mount his 
 horse. Indeed the only efficient soldiers on Suto- 
 ku's side were Tameyoshi and his seven younger 
 sons, Tametomo, the reformed rebel, amongst 
 them. Sutoku was told of Tametomo's strength 
 and wonderful skill as an archer, and was advised 
 to make use of him, so Tametomo was summoned 
 ere long to the ex-Emperor's presence. 
 
 Tametomo was now just twenty years of age ; 
 he was more than seven feet in height ; his eyes 
 were sharp and piercing like those of a hawk, and 
 he carried himself with great pride and noble bear- 
 ing. As he entered the Imperial Audience Hall, 
 so strong and brave and such a fine soldier did he 
 look, that Sutoku at once felt confidence in him, 
 and without delay consulted the young knight 
 about the impending war. 
 
 Then Tametomo told the Emperor of how, when 
 he had been banished to the West by his father, he 
 had lived the life of an outlaw for many years — 
 all that time his hand had been raised against every 
 one, and every one had fought against him. It had 
 been his delight and pastime to fight all who op- 
 posed his being lord of Kiushiu. He and his band 
 had always conquered, he said, because they had 
 always fought at night. It would be a good plan, 
 he thought, for Sutoku and his men to attack the 
 Palace of Go-Shirakawa by night, to set fire to the 
 Palace on three sides and to place soldiers on 
 
 9 
 

 the fourth side to seize the new Emperor and his 
 party when they tried to escape. If the ex-Em- 
 peror would follow his advice, Tametomo said he 
 felt sure that he would win the victory. 
 
 Yorinaga, who was attending the Council when 
 he heard Tametomo's plan, shook his head in dis- 
 approval, and said that Tametomo's scheme of 
 attack was an inferior one; that in his opinion it 
 was a coward's trick to attack by night ; and that 
 it was more befitting brave soldiers to fight by day 
 in the ordinary way. When Tametomo saw that 
 his advice was overruled and that Sutoku's Coun- 
 cil would not follow his tactics, he left the Palace. 
 
 When he reached home he told his men of all 
 that had passed, and added in his anger that Yo- 
 rinaga was a conceited fellow who knew nothing 
 of fighting, though he had dared to give his worth- 
 less opinion and to contradict him, Tametomo, who 
 had fought without once being beaten all his life 
 long. Thus giving vent to his disappointment, 
 Tametomo seated himself on the mats, and as his 
 anger passed away, he added with a sigh: "I 
 only fear that Sutoku will be defeated in the com- 
 ing struggle!" 
 
 Had Tametomo's tactics been followed, Japan- 
 ese history would certainly have been different, 
 for Kiyomori and Yoshitomo won a victory by the 
 very plan which Tametomo had advised Sutoku to 
 follow. 
 
 lO 
 
That night, without any warning, the enemy 
 made an attack on the ex-Emperor's Palace. 
 
 The wary Tametomo, however, expected an as- 
 sault and had stationed himself at the South Gate 
 on guard. On seeing Kiyomori and his band ap- 
 proaching he exclaimed : " You feeble worms ! I '11 
 surprise you! " and taking his bow and arrow shot 
 a samurai named Ito Roku through the breast. 
 The arrow was shot with such skill and force that 
 it went right through the soldier's body, and com- 
 ing out through his back, pierced the sleeve of the 
 armour of Ito Go, his younger brother, who was 
 riding close behind him. 
 
 Ito Go, when he saw the precision and strength 
 with which the arrow was shot, knew that they 
 had to deal with no common foe, and in alarm car- 
 ried the arrow to his general, Kiyomori, to show 
 it to him. Kiyomori examined the arrow carefully 
 and found that it was made from a strong bamboo 
 of more than the usual thickness, and that the metal 
 head was like a big chisel, a formidable weapon in- 
 deed ! It was so large that it resembled a spear 
 more than an arrow, and even the redoubtable 
 Kiyomori trembled at the sight of it. 
 
 "This looks more like the arrow of a demon 
 than of a man. Let us find another place of as- 
 sault where our enemies are weaker and where 
 the leaders are not such remarkable marksmen ! " 
 said he. 
 
 II 
 

 Kiyomori then retired from the attack on the 
 South Gate. 
 
 When Yoshitomo (who was now supporting 
 Kiyomori, though later on he left the Taira chief) 
 heard of his brother Tametomo's doings, he said : 
 " Tametomo may be a daredevil and boast of his 
 skill as an archer, but he will surely not take up 
 his bow and arrow against the person of his elder 
 brother," and he took Kiyomori's place at the 
 South Gate of the Palace which Tametomo was 
 guarding. 
 
 Drawing near the great roofed gate, Yoshitomo 
 called aloud to Tametomo and said: "Is that you, 
 Tametomo, on guard there ? What a wicked deed 
 you commit to fight against your elder brother ? 
 Now quickly open the gate and let me in. Tame- 
 tomo ! Do you hear .? I am Yoshitomo ! Retire 
 there!" 
 
 Tametomo laughed aloud at his elder brother's 
 command and answered boldly : " If it is wrong 
 for me to take up arms against you, my brother, 
 are you not an undutiful son to take up arms 
 against your father ? " (Tameyoshi, his father, was 
 fighting on the ex-Emperor's side.) 
 
 Yoshitomo had no words wherewith to answer 
 his brother and was silent. Tametomo, with his 
 archer's eye, saw what a good mark his brother 
 made just outside the gate, and he was greatly 
 tempted to shoot at him even for sport. But he 
 
 12 
 
said that though war found them fighting on op- 
 posite sides, yet they were brothers, born of the 
 same mother, and that it would be acting against 
 his conscience to kill or hurt his own brother, for 
 surely he would do so if he took aim seriously! He 
 would however for the sake and love of sport con- 
 tinue to show Yoshitomo what a clever marksman 
 he was. Taking good aim at Yoshitomo's helmet, 
 Tametomo raised his bow. and shot an arrow right 
 into the middle of the star that topped it. The 
 arrow pierced the star, came out the other side, 
 and then cut through a wooden gate five or six 
 inches in thickness. 
 
 Even Yoshitomo was astonished at the skill 
 which his brother displayed by this feat of archery. 
 He now led his soldiers forward to the attack. 
 
 But Sutoku's army was far outnumbered by 
 the enemy, who swept down upon the Palace in 
 overwhelming numbers, and though Tametomo 
 fought bravely and with great skill, his strength 
 and valour were of no avail against the great odds 
 which assailed him. The enemy gained ground 
 slowly, inch by inch, till at last the gates were bat- 
 tered down, and they ruthlessly entered the Palace. 
 Calamity was added to calamity, the foe set fire to 
 several parts of the building, and great confusion 
 ensued. 
 
 The ex-Emperor, in making a vain attempt to 
 escape with Yorinaga, was caught and taken pris- 
 
 13 
 
oner. Seeing that for the present there was no- 
 thing to be done, Tametomo, with his father 
 Tameyoshi and his other brothers, all loyal to 
 Sutoku's cause, made good their escape and fled 
 to the province of Omi. 
 
 Tameyoshi was an old man unable to endure 
 the hardships of a hunted life, and he found that 
 he could go no further; so he told his sons that, 
 as the Emperor had been taken prisoner, and as 
 there was no hope of raising Sutoku's flag again, 
 at any rate for the present, it would be wiser for 
 them all to return to the capital and surrender 
 themselves to the conquerors — the Taira. They 
 all agreed to this proposal except Tametomo, so 
 Tameyoshi, the aged general, and the rest of his 
 sons went back to Kyoto. 
 
 Now Tametomo was left behind, alone in his 
 brave resolution to fight another battle for the ex- 
 Emperor Sutoku. As soon as he had parted, sad 
 and determined, from his father and brothers, he 
 made his way towards the Eastern provinces. But 
 unfortunately, as he was journeying, the wound he 
 had received in the recent fight became so painful 
 that he stopped at some springs along the route, 
 with the hope that the healing waters, a panacea 
 for so many ills in Japan, would heal his hurt. 
 But while taking the cure, his enemies came upon 
 him and made him prisoner and he was sent back 
 a captive to the capital. 
 
 14 
 
By the time Tametomo reached the city, his 
 father and his brothers had been put to death, and 
 he was soon told that he was to meet the same 
 cruel fate. 
 
 But courage always arouses chivalry in the 
 hearts of friends and foes alike, and it seemed to 
 Tametomo's enemies a pity to put such a brave 
 man to death. In the whole land there was no man 
 who could match him in bending the bow and 
 sending the arrow home to its mark, so it was de- 
 cided to spare his life at the last moment. But to 
 prevent him from using his wonderful skill against 
 them, his enemies cut the sinews of both his arms 
 and sent him away to the island of Oshima off the 
 coast of the province of Idzutolive. Lest he should 
 escape on the way they bound him hand and foot 
 and put him in a palanquin. He was surrounded 
 by a guard of fifty men, and so big and heavy was 
 he that twenty bearers were required to carry the 
 palanquin. 
 
 In spite of all the misfortunes that had befallen 
 him, he carried the same courage, the same stout 
 merry heart, the same love of wildness with him, 
 even into exile. As the twenty men carried him 
 along in the palanquin, Tametomo just for fun 
 would now and again put forth all his strength. 
 So great was his weight then that the twenty 
 bearers would stagger and fall to the ground. 
 These feats of strength alarmed the escort of fifty 
 
 15 
 

 soldiers. They feared lest , he should act more 
 savagely and become unmanageable, past their 
 power of control, so they treated him in much the 
 same way as they would have treated a lion or a 
 tiger. They tried not to anger him, but did their 
 utmost to keep him in a good humour during the 
 journey. 
 
 At last they reached the province of Idzu and 
 the seashore from whence they had to cross over 
 to the island. Here they hired a boat, and putting 
 Tametomo safely on board they took him to his 
 last destination and left him there. 
 
 Though Tametomo was banished to this island, 
 yet once there his enemies left him free to do 
 much as he liked. He was not treated as a common 
 prisoner, but as a brave though vanquished foe. 
 The simple islanders recognized in him a great 
 man and behaved to him accordingly and listened 
 to everything he chose to say. So he led an unmo- 
 lested life, free from care, except the sorrow of 
 being an exile — but his was a nature which took 
 life as it came, without worrying about what he 
 could not help. 
 
 Now one day Tametomo was standing on the 
 beach gazing out to sea, thinking of the many ad- 
 ventures he had passed through and wondering if 
 fate would ever bring any change in the quiet life 
 he was leading, when he saw a sea-gull come flying 
 over the water. At first Tametomo with his keen 
 
 i6 
 
eyes saw only a speck in the distance, but the 
 speck grew larger and larger till at last the sea- 
 bird appeared. Tametomo now guessed that there 
 was an island lying in the direction from which the 
 bird came. So he got into a boat and set out on a 
 voyage of discovery. 
 
 As he expected, he came to an island, after sail- 
 ing from sunrise to sundown. To his amazement 
 he found the place inhabited by creatures very dif- 
 ferent from human beings. They had dark red 
 faces, with shocks of bright red hair, the locks of 
 which hung over their foreheads and eyes. They 
 looked just Uke demons. A whole crowd of these 
 alarming-looking creatures were standing on the 
 beach when Tametomo landed. When they caught 
 sight of him they talked and gesticulated wildly 
 amongst themselves and with fierce looks they 
 rushed towards him. 
 
 Tametomo saw at once that they meant him 
 harm, but he was nothing daunted. He went up to 
 a large pine tree that was growing near by, laid his 
 hands on it, and uprooting it with as much ease as 
 if it were a weed, he brandished it over his head 
 and called aloud threateningly: "Come, you de- 
 mons, fight if you will. I am Chinsei Hachiro 
 Tametomo, the Archer of great Japan. If you will 
 henceforth become my servants and look up to me 
 as master in all things, it is well ; otherwise I will 
 beat you all to little pieces." 
 
 17 
 

 When the demons saw Tametomo's great 
 strength and his fearlessness they trembled. They 
 held a short parley amongst themselves, and then 
 the demon chief stepped forward, followed by all 
 his band. They came in front of Tametomo and 
 prostrating themselves before him on the sand, 
 they one and all surrendered. Tametomo with 
 much pride took possession of this island of de- 
 mons and made himself monarch of all he sur- 
 veyed. Having subdued the demons he returned 
 to Oshima with the news. Great was the praise 
 and merit awarded him by all the islanders. 
 
 Another day, soon after this, Tametomo was 
 walking along the sands of the seashore, when he 
 saw coming towards him, floating nearer and nearer 
 on the top of the waves, a little old man. Tame- 
 tomo could hardly believe his sight ; he had never 
 seen anything so strange in his whole life; he 
 rubbed his eyes, thinking he must be dreaming, 
 and looked and looked again. There sure enough 
 was a tiny man, no bigger than one foot five 
 inches high, sitting gracefully on a round straw 
 mat. 
 
 Filled with wonder, Tametomo walked to the 
 edge of the sand, and as the httle creature floated 
 nearer on an incoming wave he said : " Who are 
 you .? " 
 
 " I am the microbe of small-pox," answered the 
 stranger pigmy. 
 
 i8 
 
"And why, may I ask, do you come to this 
 island ? " inquired Tametomo. 
 
 "I have never been here before, so I came 
 partly for sight-seeing and partly with the desire 
 to seize hold of the inhabitants — " answered the 
 little creature. 
 
 Before he could finish his sentence Tametomo 
 said angrily: "You spirit of hateful pestilence! 
 Silence, I say! I am no other than Chinsei 
 Hachiro Tametomo 1 Get out of my presence at 
 once and take yourself far from this place, or I 
 will make you repent the day you ever came 
 here ! " 
 
 As Tametomo spoke, the small-pox microbe 
 shrank and shrank from the form of a tiny man one 
 foot five inches high, till only something the size 
 of a pea was left in the middle of the straw mat. 
 As he dwindled and dwindled, the little creature 
 said that he was sorry that he had intruded into 
 the island, but he had not known that it was in 
 Tametomo's possession ; and he then floated away 
 out to sea on his straw mat as quickly and myste- 
 riously as he had come. 
 
 The island of Oshima has always been free 
 from small-pox, and to this day the islanders as- 
 cribe the immunity they enjoy from the horrible 
 pestilence to Tametomo, who drove away the mi- 
 crobe when the hateful creature would have landed 
 there. 
 
 19 
 

 Now that Tametomo had subdued the demons 
 on the neighbouring island and haH driven away the 
 spirit of small-pox from Oshima, he was looked 
 upon as a king by the simple islanders. They ren- 
 dered him every possible honour and bowed their 
 heads in the dust before him whenever he went 
 abroad. 
 
 At last this state of affairs was reported to the 
 authorities in the capital. The Ministers of State 
 decided that it was unsafe to allow this to go on. 
 Such a popular and powerful hero was a menace 
 to the Government. Tametomo, the Champion 
 Archer, must be put down and without delay. 
 Such was the decree. A messenger was then and 
 there despatched with sealed orders to General 
 Shigemitsu, in Idzu, to set sail with his men for 
 Oshima and subdue Tametomo. 
 
 One day Tametomo was standing on the beach 
 and watching with pleasure, as he often did, the 
 ever-whispering sea laughing and sparkling in the 
 sunshine, when he saw fifty war-junks coming 
 towards the island. The soldiers standing on the 
 fifty decks were all armed with swords and bows 
 and arrows, and clad in armour from head to foot, 
 and they were beating drums and singing martial 
 songs. Tametomo smiled when he saw this fleet 
 all mustered in martial array and sent against him, 
 a single man, for he knew, somehow or other, what 
 they had come for. 
 
 20 
 
" Now," he said proudly to himself, " the oppor- 
 tunity is given me of trying my archer's skill once 
 more." Seizing his bow, he pulled it to the shape 
 of a full moon, and aiming it at the foremost ship, 
 sent an arrow right into the prow. In an instant 
 the boat was upset and the soldiers pitched into 
 the sea. 
 
 Till that moment Tametomo had feared that 
 his arm had lost its first great strength, since his 
 enemies had cut the sinews ; but on the contrary 
 he now found that not only were his arms as 
 strong as ever, but that they had even grown 
 longer, and that he was able to pull his bow wider 
 than before. He clapped his hands with joy at 
 the discovery and called aloud : " This is a happy 
 thing!" 
 
 But now Tametomo reflected that if he fought 
 against those who had been sent by the Government 
 to take him, he would only bring trouble on the peo- 
 ple of the island, who had been so kind to him and 
 who had sheltered him in his exile ; he thought of 
 how in their simple reverence for his great strength 
 they had almost worshipped him as a deified hero 
 and had looked up to him as their leader. No, — 
 he would not, could not, bring war and trouble 
 and certain punishment upon these good folk, so 
 for their sake he decided not to fight more. He 
 looked back with the keen ilight of thought that 
 comes to mortals in moments of great crises, and 
 
 21 
 

 he remembered how with special mercy his life 
 had been spared when he was taken prisoner in 
 the civil war. Since then he had enjoyed life for 
 over ten years. As a strong, brave man he could 
 not grudge losing it now. He had made him- 
 self owner of the islands and the people called him 
 their king; he felt that there was no shame or 
 regret in dying when he had reached the height 
 of his glory. Therefore, with firm and quick deci- 
 sion he made up his mind to die. He withdrew at 
 once from the beach and retired to his house, and 
 here he committed suicide by harakiri, thus saving 
 himself from all dishonour and the islanders from 
 all trouble. He was only thirty-two years of age 
 when he died. His death was greatly regretted by 
 all who loved him. But his glory did not die with 
 him. The people ever afterward honoured and 
 reverenced him as a great hero. 
 
 Such is one story of the death of Tametomo, 
 but legend has created another, still more inter- 
 esting, about him. Instead of taking his own life, 
 this tradition says that he escaped from Oshima 
 and reached Sanuki. Here he visited the late Em- 
 peror's tomb and offered up prayers for the illus- 
 trious dead. He then, believing that his day of use- 
 fulness was over, prepared to kill himself ; when 
 suddenly, as in a dream, the Emperor, Yorinaga, his 
 father, and all those royalists who had fought and 
 died in the civil war, or had been taken prisoners 
 
 22 
 
and killed by the victorious parties of the new Em- 
 peror, appeared to him in the clouds and with a 
 warning gesture prevented him from committing 
 the dread deed of harakiri. As Tametomo gazed 
 wonderingly at the beautiful vision, the bamboo 
 curtain which hung before the ex-Emperor's pa- 
 lanquin lifted, and as the sunshine and grace of 
 His Majesty's smile fell upon the awe-stricken 
 man, the sword dropped from his hand and the 
 wish to die expired in his breast. He fell forward 
 in humble prostration to the ground. When Ta- 
 metomo lifted his head, the vision had vanished 
 within the clouds ; nothing remained to be seen of 
 the royal array which had saved him from his self- 
 imposed death. 
 
 This wonderful visitation changed Tametomo' s 
 mind. He gave up all idea of seeking death, and, 
 leaving Sanuki, journeyed to Kiushiu, and took up 
 his abode on Mount Kihara. Here he collected a 
 band of followers, and with them embarked on 
 board a ship with the intention of reaching the 
 capital and once more striking a blow at the arro- 
 gant and usurping House of Taira. But misfortune 
 followed him. He was overtaken by a storm, his 
 ship was wrecked, his men lost, while he only 
 narrowly escaped with his life to the island of 
 Riukiu. Here he found the people in a state of 
 great excitement, for a party of rebels had risen 
 against the King, who was greatly oppressed by 
 
 23 
 
6 
 
 them. Tametomo put himself at the head of the 
 loyalists, rescued the King, who had been taken 
 prisoner, subdued the rebels, and then restored 
 peace to the disturbed land. For these meritorious 
 services the King adopted him as his son, bestowed 
 upon him the title of Prince, and married him to 
 one of the royal Princesses. At last one day, when 
 Tametomo had reached a good old age, happy in 
 the life of peace and bliss with which his later years 
 had been crowned, as he was walking along one 
 of the spacious verandahs of the Palace, his attend- 
 ants noticed a trail of cloud coming towards their 
 master from the sky. As soon as the cloud touched 
 Tametomo, he began to rise in the air before their 
 astonished gaze. Lost in speechless amazement, 
 they watched the hero mount higher and higher, 
 till the clouds closed round him and hid him from 
 their view. Such is the pretty legend of the earthly 
 end of the brave archer Tametomo, one of the 
 most interesting figures in Japanese history, who 
 conquered the trials and misfortunes of his youth, 
 and won through to bright days of prosperity. He 
 left a son called Shun-Tenno, who became King 
 of Riukiu in due time- 
 
TAMETOMO BEGAN TO RISE IN THE AIR 
 
GEN SANMI YORIMASA, THE 
 KNIGHT 
 
GEN SANMI YORIMASA, THE 
 KNIGHT 
 
 LONG, long ago in Japan there lived a brave 
 knight named Gen Sanmi Yorimasa. Yori- 
 masa was his own name, while Gen was the great 
 dan to which he belonged, the Genji, or Mina- 
 moto, famous in history, and Sanmi showed that 
 he was a knight of the Third Rank at Court, from 
 the word san, which means " three." 
 
 Now Yorimasa is so celebrated a warrior that 
 to this day his picture is painted on the kites 
 which the little boys of Japan fly at the New Year, 
 and if you visit the temple of the Goddess of 
 Mercy, at Asakusa, in Tokyo, you will see his 
 portrait even there. And at the Boys' Festival, on 
 the fifth of the fifth month, when in every house- 
 hold where there are sons the favourite heroes of 
 the land are set out in the alcove of honour of the 
 guest-room, you will surely find amidst the martial 
 show of toys the figure of an archer clothed from 
 head to foot in gay armour, with a huge bow in 
 his hand and a quiver full of arrows on his back. 
 That is Yorimasa of brave and dear memory. 
 
 27 
 
a 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 Yorimasa was the fifth descendant of the Great 
 Knight Raiko, who killed the demons of Oyeyama 
 about whom you will soon read. As a youth Yori- 
 masa was noted for his valour and his skill in arch- 
 ery, and he was soon called to the Court and given 
 the important post of Chief Guard of the Imperial 
 Palace. 
 
 Now, though Yorimasa was a man of ability and 
 the greatest archer of his time, and though he had 
 done deeds of note which had brought him into 
 prominence, yet for some unaccountable reason his 
 rank at Court remained stationary, and he did not 
 advance from the Fourth degree {Shi-i), which he 
 had when he first entered the sacred precincts of 
 the Palace. The humour of the situation caught 
 Yorimasa' s fancy, for he was very quick-witted, 
 and one day, smiling to himself, he sat down at his 
 writing-table and composed a poem lamenting his 
 bad luck. From the earliest ages the Japanese have 
 trained themselves, at the times when their feelings 
 are stirred by some event which causes happiness 
 or sorrow or disappointment, not to give way to 
 their emotions, but to control their minds suffi- 
 ciently to compose a poem on the subject. 
 
 Yorimasa's poem was of thirty-one syllables,' 
 
 ' All Japanese poetry is regulated and counted by syllables, 
 not by lines and feet, as with us. Many words have several 
 meanings and the witty use of these punning facilities is greatly 
 sought after. 
 
 28 
 
and in five short lines he said gracefully that " one 
 who has not the means of climbing upwards re- 
 mains under the tree and passes his life in picking 
 up beechnuts." Now in Japanese the word for 
 beechnuts is shi-i, and this word also means the 
 Fourth Rank at Court. So that the couplet was a 
 pun on his not being promoted. Yorimasa read 
 the poem laughingly to some of his friends, and 
 they, admiring his wit, repeated it and talked 
 about it till it became quite famous in the Palace, 
 and at last reached the Emperor's ear. The sym- 
 pathy of His Majesty was aroused, and soon aftqr 
 this Yorimasa was raised to the rank of the Third 
 degree, sanmi, and by this title he has ever after- 
 wards been known. 
 
 Now it happened that at this time the Emperor 
 became ill and could not sleep at night. He com- 
 plained of disturbance and a great sense of oppres- 
 sion from sunset to sunrise. His courtiers, full of 
 anxiety, sat up to watch the njght through, to see 
 if they could discover the cause of the Emperor's 
 agitation. Some kept vigil in and round the Im- 
 perial chamber, others on the wide-eaved verandahs, 
 and some in the courtyard of the Palace. Then the 
 watchers on the verandahs and in the courtyard 
 noticed that as soon as the sun set a black cloud 
 came from the eastern horizon of the capital, and 
 travelling across the city finally rested on the roof 
 of the Palace called the Purple Hall {Shishinden) 
 
 29 
 

 of the North Star, where the Emperor slept. As 
 soon as this cloud alighted on the Palace, the Em- 
 peror's sleep became disturbed, as if by frightful 
 nightmare. Those in attendance round the royal 
 bed heard strange scratchings and noises on the roof 
 as if some dreadful beast were there. These unusual 
 sounds and the nightmare of the Imperial sleeper 
 lasted till dawn, when it was noticed that the 
 black cloud always withdrew. 
 
 Now in the Palace there was great commotion. 
 The Minister of the Right and the Minister of the 
 Left, whose duty it was to guard the Emperor 
 from all harm, held long and anxious consultation 
 as to what should be done. Every one in the 
 Palace was of the opinion that the black cloud hid 
 some monster which for some unknown cause 
 haunted the Emperor. It was quite certain that 
 unless the monster were killed, and that soon, the 
 Emperor's life would be endangered, for he was 
 growing weaker and thinner every day. The ques- 
 tion was, who was brave enough to undertake 
 the task .' The Palace sentinels were already scared, 
 so it was useless to expect help from them. The 
 Ministers must seek for some brave samurai well 
 known for his daring and his skill as an archer and 
 put him on night-duty, charging him to kill the 
 monster as soon as it should appear. The courtiers, 
 one and all, said that Yorimasa was the man. An 
 Imperial messenger was therefore at once sent to 
 
 30 
 
the knight, with a letter telUng him what was de- 
 manded of him. 
 
 Yorimasa, when he read the letter, looked very 
 grave, for he felt the responsibility of his new 
 duty, which was different from all other work ; 
 for on him now depended the recovery of the Em- 
 peror, who was visibly growing worse and living 
 through each day in terror of the nightmare which 
 haunted him in the darkness. 
 
 Yorimasa was a man of great courage and re- 
 source, and lost not a moment in getting ready. 
 He strung his best bow most carefully and placed 
 his quiver in two steel-headed arrows. He then 
 put on his armour, and over his armour he donned 
 a hunting-dress, and to look more courtly he put 
 on a ceremonial cap instead of a helmet. He chose 
 his favourite retainer, the bravest and strongest 
 of all his soldiers, to accompany him. Yorimasa 
 now set out as calmly and quietly as if he were 
 simply going to his every-day duty and nothing 
 more. As soon as his arrival was made known, 
 he was summoned to the presence of the Ministers 
 of the Right and the Left and told of all that 
 was happening at Court — how every night at the 
 hour of sunset a black cloud was seen to issue 
 from the east, approach the Palace, and finally 
 cover the roof of the Purple Hall of the North 
 Star where the Emperor always slept. Then the 
 Ministers told the knight of the strange noises 
 
 31 
 
 % 
 
3 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 that were heard on the roof, of the howlings and 
 scratchings which lasted all night till the dawn 
 broke. It behoved him, they said, to do his best to 
 kill the monster, if such it was, for all the guards 
 were now thoroughly frightened, and none of them 
 dared attack it in hand-to-hand fight, and none 
 had skill enough to hit it in the dark, though the 
 Emperor's own body-guard of archers had tried 
 again and again. 
 
 Yorimasa listened to the strange story gravely. 
 He saw that the whole Palace was in a state of 
 alarm and disturbance, but he did not lose heart. 
 With the greatest self-possession he waited for 
 the end of the day. As soon as the sun set, the 
 night grew stormy ; the wind blew a hurricane, the 
 lightning flashed, and the thunder roared. Nothing 
 daunted by the fury of the elements, the brave 
 archer waited and waited. It must have been near 
 midnight when Yorimasa saw a thick black cloud 
 sweep down and settle on the roof of the Palace. 
 He bade his retainer be ready with sword and 
 torch at any moment and to follow him closely. The 
 black cloud moved along the ridge of the grey- 
 tiled roof till it stopped at the northeast corner, 
 just over the Imperial sleeping-chamber. 
 
 Yorimasa cautiously followed the movements of 
 the cloud, his man just behind him. Straining his 
 eyes, Yorimasa saw, during a vivid flash of light- 
 ning, the form of a large animal. Keeping his eyes 
 
 32 
 
on the spot where he had seen the head, while the 
 peals of thunder crashed like cannon above, in 
 the darkness which followed he caught the glare 
 first of one eye and then of the other as the crea- 
 tiure moved along. 
 
 " This must be the monster who disturbs the 
 Emperor's rest! " said Yorimasa to himself. 
 
 With these words he fitted an arrow to the bow, 
 and aiming to the left of where he saw the left eye 
 glare he pulled his bow as round as the full moon 
 and let fly. Yorimasa felt that his arrow had 
 touched flesh. At the same moment there was a 
 frightful howl and a heavy thud, and the writhing 
 in agony of some animal on the ground, which 
 showed that Yorimasa had done his work well. 
 
 Now Yorimasa's retainer rushed upon the mon- 
 ster ; in one hand he held a blazing torch, in the 
 other a short sword with which he stabbed the 
 creature nine times and quickly despatched him. 
 Then they both raised their voices and called to 
 the sentinels and the courtiers to come and look. 
 A strange sight was in store for them. Never had 
 any of them seen anything like the monster that 
 lay before them. The dreadful beast was as large 
 as a horse ; it had the head of an ape, the body 
 and claws of a tiger, the tail of a serpent, the 
 wings of a bird, and the scales of a dragon. They 
 had heard and read of such creatures in some of 
 the old books, but had always thought that such 
 
 33 
 
n 
 
 ^ 
 ^ 
 
 S 
 
 stories were old women's fables, to be told and 
 whispered by grey-haired dames round the hibachi 
 (fire-brazier) to their wonder-struck grandchildren, 
 but never to be entertained seriously by men of 
 sense. For a few moments they were all struck 
 dumb with astonishment ; they gazed silently first 
 at the strange and horrible beast before them, 
 then at Yorimasa, the slayer of it. Exclamations 
 of wonder burst from their lips. Then one and all 
 turned to the brave archer and congratulated him 
 on his wonderful feat, his courage and his marks- 
 manship. It seemed as if they would never cease 
 applauding him. 
 
 The animal was flayed and its skin was carried 
 to the Emperor, who ordered it to be stored as a 
 curiosity in the Imperial treasure-house. His Ma- 
 jesty was highly pleased. He sent for Yorimasa 
 and bestowed on him a sword called Shishi- Wo, or 
 the King of Lions. The time of the year was the 
 beginning of the fifth month ; the crescent moon 
 hung like a silver bow in the twilight sky, and the 
 cuckoo ' was calling from the trees near by ; so the 
 Minister of the Left who handed the sword to Yo- 
 rimasa improvised the first half of a stanza saying: 
 
 " O cuckoo of wonder, even your name 
 Climbs ever upward to the Heaven ! " 
 
 Then Yorimasa, on his knees with uplifted 
 
 ' The cuckoo in Japanese literature and fancy takes the same 
 place as the nightingale in England. 
 
 34 
 
hands and bowed head, received the sword, and as 
 he did so he completed the short poem with these 
 words : — i 
 
 " Not through thine own : but through the merit of a moon- 
 shaped bow I " 
 
 The Minister used the cuckoo then caUing in 
 the trees as simile of the brave warrior whose 
 fame was rising now at Court because of his brave 
 deeds, and Yorimasa modestly answered that all 
 was due not to his skill, but to his bow, which he 
 likened to the crescent moon then reigning in the 
 sky. Both turned to the scenery of the moment 
 for inspiration — the Minister in expressing his 
 praise and the warrior in receiving it with becom- 
 ing humility and grace. 
 
 The Emperor also considered this a fitting occa- 
 sion to give Yorimasa the Lady Ayame (Iris) for 
 his wife, and about this incident there is a pretty 
 story. 
 
 The Lady Ayame was the most lovely lady-in- 
 waiting in the Palace, and as good as she was beau- 
 tiful. Not only in beauty, but in mind and heart, 
 was she superior to all the other ladies-in-waiting, 
 and both the Emperor and Empress held her in 
 high esteem. Many were the Court nobles who 
 fell in love with her, but all in vain ; there was 
 not one, however great or rich or handsome, who 
 could make her so much as grant him even a fleet- 
 ing smile. Time after time these noble suitors 
 
 35 
 
n 
 
 ^ 
 ^ 
 
 S 
 
 wrote her letters and poems, telling her of their 
 hopeless love and beseeching her to send them 
 but a single line in reply. But only her silence 
 answered them. She remained obdurate to all 
 entreaties. 
 
 One day Yorimasa, when on duty in the Palace, 
 caught a passing glimpse of the Lady Ayame, and 
 from that hour his heart knew no rest. He could 
 not forget the witching grace nor the modest 
 beauty of her lovely face ; sleeping or waking the 
 vision of his lady-love was always before his eyes, 
 and it seemed to grow more vivid as the days went 
 by. Time after time he wrote her letters and com- 
 posed poems asking her to marry him, but the 
 Lady Ayame treated Yorimasa as she treated all 
 her other wooers — she vouchsafed him no reply. 
 For three long years Yorimasa waited and hoped 
 and despaired, and waited and hoped again, content 
 if once in a way from a respectful distance he 
 could' catch a glimpse of her. In spite of long and 
 cold discouragenient beloved her perseveringly. 
 
 The Emperor had heard of the knight's con- 
 stancy, and now sent for his favourite lady-in-wait- 
 ing, thinking this the right time to reward Yori- 
 masa's prowess and the Lady Ayame's merit, and 
 to make them both happy. 
 
 As soon as Ayame appeared, His Majesty said : 
 " Lady Ayame, is it true that you have received 
 many letters from the knight Yorimasa ? Is it so ? " 
 
 36 
 
At this the Lady Ayame blushed like a peach- 
 blossom in the glow of dawn, and hesitating a mo- 
 ment she replied : " May it please the Son of 
 Heaven to condescend to send for Yorimasa and 
 ask him ! " 
 
 His Majesty then commanded her to retire, and 
 forthwith summoned Yorimasa to his presence. 
 
 It was the fifth of May, the Spring Festival, 
 and Yorimasa came robed in gala attire. He pre- 
 sented himself below the dais on which the 
 Emperor was seated and prostrated himself before 
 the throne. 
 
 "Is it true," and the Emperor smiled as he 
 spoke, " that you love the Lady Ayame .' " 
 
 Yorimasa was bewildered by the suddenness of 
 the question and knew not what to reply, for he 
 knew it to be strictly forbidden by Court etiquette 
 to write love-letters to any lady-in-waiting, and he 
 had done this persistently. 
 
 Now the Emperor saw Yorimasa's confusion 
 and felt sorry for him. A bright thought struck 
 His Majesty. He would please and puzzle Yori- 
 masa and have some fun at his expense at the 
 same time as well. He whispered an order to the 
 chief master of ceremony. 
 
 In a short time three ladies appeared, heralded 
 by attendants. As they moved across the mats of 
 the immense hall, Yorimasa saw that they were 
 all dressed exactly alike, and that even their hair 
 
 37 
 

 was done in the same style, so that it would be 
 impossible for any one who did not know them 
 well to distinguish one from the other. 
 
 Who were they ? Was the Lady Ayame one of 
 them ? 
 
 Like maidens of Heaven (tennin) did the three 
 noble damsels appear and their robes were beauti- 
 ful to behold. So alike were they, and their beauty 
 so extraordinary, that Yorimasa compared them 
 to plum-blossoms on a branch seen through a 
 window. 
 
 " The Lady Ayame is here," said the Emperor. 
 " Choose her from among three ladies and take 
 her." 
 
 Yorimasa bowed to the ground. He was over- 
 come with the graciousness and kindness of the Em- 
 peror. But the task laid upon him he felt to be too 
 difficult. Being a military man and inferior in rank 
 to the Court circle, Yorimasa had never had an 
 opportunity of seeing any of the Court ladies face 
 to face. All he had seen of the Lady Ayame was 
 sometimes a glimpse of her from the courtyard, 
 where he was stationed, as she passed along the 
 corridors of the Palace. Once at a poetical party, 
 to which he had been admitted as a great favour, 
 he had seen her, at the further end of the hall, 
 glide with trailing robes of ceremony into her 
 place behind the silken screen which always hid 
 the women from view at such gatherings. That 
 
 38 
 
YORIMASA COULD NOT TELL WHICH WAS THE LADY AYAME 
 
was all he had ever seen of her, so that now he 
 could not distinguish her from the rest. 
 
 The Emperor was pleased at the success of his 
 pleasantry. He saw that Yorimasa was fairly per- 
 plexed, and that he was unable to pick out his 
 lady-love from her companions. 
 
 " I am a soldier and no courtier," thought the 
 knight, " I may not presume to lift my eyes to a 
 lady above the clotids.^ Nor can I be sure which is 
 Ayame. Were I to make a mistake and choose 
 the wrong lady, it would be a lifelong disgrace 
 and disappointment to me ! " 
 
 The perplexity in his mind at once rose to his 
 lips in the form of a short poem, which he re- 
 peated : — 
 
 " In the rainy season when the waters overflow 
 the banks of the lake, who can gather the Iris ? " 
 
 Such is the meaning of the verse. 
 
 By the rainy season Yorimasa meant his three 
 years of hopeless courting, during which his eyes 
 had become dim with the tears of disappointment 
 he had shed, so that he could no longer see clearly 
 enough to discover which was the lady of his 
 choice. In this way he excused himself for his 
 seeming stupidity, and showed a modest reserve 
 which pleased all present. 
 
 The aptness and quickness of Yorimasa's verse 
 
 ' " Above the clouds " — a complimentary expression used 
 for the exalted Court circle. 
 
 39 
 

 won the Emperor's admiration. The tears stood 
 in the august eyes, for he thought of the great 
 love wherewith Yorimasa had loved the Lady Iris, 
 and of the sorrow and patience of his long wooing 
 and waiting. His Majesty rose from his throne, 
 descended the steps of the dais, and going up to 
 Ayame took her by the hand and led, her forth 
 .to Yorimasa. 
 
 ; ," This is the Lady Ayame, I give her to you! " 
 :were the golden words of the Emperor. 
 
 To Yorimasa it must have seemed too wonder- 
 ful almost to be true. The great desire of his life 
 was given him by the Emperor himself ! 
 
 Then Yorimasa led his beautiful lady-love away 
 and married her, and we are told that they lived 
 as happily as fish in water ; and it seemed as if 
 they had but one heart between them, so harmo- 
 nious was their union. In the Palace there was 
 great rejoicing over the auspicious event, and all 
 the courtiers praised the merit of the verse which 
 had finally given Ayame to Yorimasa and won the 
 Emperor's special commendation. The happy 
 couple received the congratulations of the Em- 
 peror and Empress, of the courtiers and many 
 noble people, and wedding-presents innumerable. 
 Surely at this time there was no one happier than 
 Yorimasa in all the land. 
 
 There are many stories told of Yorimasa which 
 show us that he was not only a brave soldier and a 
 
 40 
 
man of learning and a poet, but also a man of wit 
 and tact who knew how to use men as he willed. 
 
 Now one day a band of discontented turbulent 
 priests came to the Palace Gate where Yorimasa 
 was on guard, and demanded entrance. It must 
 be explained that in those days the Buddhist 
 priests of Kyoto were a set' of wild and lawless 
 men who often brought shame to their religion by 
 their wicked lives. They lived outside the city on 
 Mount Hiei, which they made their stronghold, 
 and, forgetting the dignity of their religion, they 
 took sides in war and in politics. They gave 
 trouble to those in authority, especially to those 
 who did not favour them. They used the smallest 
 event as an occasion for carrying swords and bows 
 and arrows, and it was their habit to go out 
 equipped like soldiers going forth to war. 
 
 Yorimasa saw that the priests were all well 
 armed, and only too anxious to find a pretext for 
 drawing their swords. They carried with them in 
 great state the sacred palanquin of their temple. 
 In this palanquin their patron god was supposed 
 to dwell, and it was borne aloft on the shoulders 
 of fifty men. With loud shoutings and a wild 
 display of strength the priests rushed the car 
 along, now lifting it high above their heads, now 
 staggering under its weight, as it seemed about to 
 crush them to the ground. 
 
 Now Yorimasa was in no mood for fighting 
 
 41 
 

 that day, and it seemed to him not worth his 
 while to set his men — the best fighters and arch- 
 ers in the realm — against a handful of priests 
 whom he could disperse in a few minutes ; besides, 
 these priests from Mount Hiei were troublesome 
 fellows and he did not wish to earn their enmity. 
 So laughing quietly to himself he said that he 
 would have some fun at their expense. 
 
 When the procession stopped opposite the gate, 
 Yorimasa with his captains of the guard sallied 
 forth to meet the noisy crowd, and coming in front 
 of the palanquin bowed in reverence before it 
 with slow ceremony. 
 
 The priests, who had expected and were pre- 
 pared for a very difficult reception, were surprised 
 and somewhat taken aback. After some parley 
 amongst themselves, their spokesman advanced 
 and asked leave to enter the gate, saying they had 
 a petition to present to the Emperor. 
 
 Yorimasa sent his captain forward. 
 
 "My lord bids you welcome," he said, "and 
 wishes me to say that he worships the same god 
 as yourselves, and he is therefore averse to shoot- 
 ing against the Mikoshi [sacred palanquin] with 
 his bows and arrows. Besides this, we are very 
 few in number, so that your names will be dishon- 
 oured and you will be called cowards for having 
 chosen the weakest post to fight. Now the next 
 gate is guarded by the Heike soldiers, who are 
 
 42 
 
much stronger in numbers than we are. How 
 would it do for you to go round and fight there ? 
 You would surely gain glory in an encounter with 
 them." 
 
 The priests were so pleased by the flattery of 
 this speech that they did not see that it was a ruse 
 on the part of Yorimasa to get rid of them easily, 
 and that he was sending them round to bother his 
 rivals. He had also appealed to their best feel- 
 ings, for Japanese chivalry teaches that in the 
 event of choosing between two enemies the weaker 
 must always be spared. 
 
 Some polite answer was made to Yorimasa, and 
 then the priests shouldered the Mikoshi and de- 
 parted in the same spirited and vociferous manner 
 that they had come. They went to the next gate, 
 guarded by the Heike. Battle was given at once, 
 for they were refused admittance. The priests were 
 beaten and fled for their lives to the hills. 
 
 All these stories show us that Yorimasa was a 
 clever man in every way, but in the end he was 
 unfortunate, and for this there was no help. 
 
 When we read the story of his ill-fated death 
 our hearts are filled with sorrow for him. It is not 
 always as one wishes in this world, and Yorimasa 
 did not meet with the fate his meritorious deeds 
 and character deserved. 
 
 The Heike or Taira clan were now in the 
 ascendant (Yorimasa, it will be remembered, be- 
 
 43 
 
fl 
 
 ^ 
 
 ir 
 « 
 
 longed to the Genji or Minamoto), and Kiyomori, 
 their despotic and unprincipled leader, was Prime 
 Minister. All the important posts in the Govern- 
 ment he gave to his sons, grandsons, and rela- 
 tions, who under these circumstances, seeing that 
 they owed everything to him, did just ■ as the 
 tyrant ordered. All samurai who did not belong 
 to the Heike clan he treated unjustly, even throw- 
 ing those he did not like into prison, whether they 
 were innocent or guilty of the crimes or behaviour 
 deserving such punishment. 
 
 As a general of the rival Genji clan, Yorimasa 
 suffered much from this unfair treatment. As he 
 watched the arrogant conduct of Kiyomori and 
 his son Munemori, he longed to be able to punish 
 them and to bring retribution on the whole clan, and 
 to this end he thought and worked and planned. 
 
 At last the Heike became so overbearing and 
 so powerful that their actions passed the bounds 
 of all reason, and Kiyomori, on a question of suc- 
 cession to the throne, confined the reigning Em- 
 peror in his Palace. 
 
 This last step was too much for Yorimasa; he 
 could endure this state of things no longer, and 
 he resolved to make a bold strike for the right. 
 He placed Prince Takakura, the son of the late 
 Emperor, at the head of his army and set out to 
 do battle with the Heike. 
 
 But the Genji were far inferior in numbers to 
 
 44 
 
the Heike, and, sad to relate, Yorimasa was de- 
 feated in his good and just cause. With the re- 
 mainder of his army he fled before the enemy 
 and took refuge in the Temple of Byodoin, situ- 
 ated on the river Uji. 
 
 The Byodoin Temple, a large edifice near Kyoto, 
 remains to this day. Here Yorimasa made a last 
 stand to afford time for Prince Takakura to escape. 
 He divided his men into two parties — one divi- 
 sion he stationed as a reserve force in the grounds 
 of the temple, while the other he drew up in bat- 
 tle array along the banks of the river. In case 
 of pursuit, to prevent the enemy from crossing the 
 river, they tore up the planks which formed the 
 flooring of the bridge, so that only a skeleton of 
 posts and cross-beams remained. Then they rested 
 and waited to see what would happen. 
 
 The Heike soon came in sight following hard 
 after them. First came the generals, then the sol- 
 diers, twenty-eight thousand strong. They ap- 
 proached the bridge, but stopped short when they 
 saw what the Genji had cleverly done. In a few 
 minutes they ranged themselves along the bank 
 facing the enemy. 
 
 Both armies now stood confronting each other 
 on either side of the Uji. Simultaneously the order 
 was given to fight by both the Genji and the Heike 
 generals and a fierce discharge of arrows from both 
 sides ensued. 
 
 4S 
 

 Then there rushed forth from the ranks of the 
 Genji a huge priest, Tajima Bo by name (in those 
 days the Buddhist priests often took part in battles); 
 brandishing an enormous halberd he dashed out 
 alone on the skeleton bridge. The Heike, thinking 
 that he made an excellent target, shot a shower 
 of arrows at him, but he was not in the least 
 daunted. When the arrows were aimed at his head, 
 he stooped and they passed over him ; when they 
 were aimed at his legs, he jumped high in the air 
 and they flew under him ; when they were aimed 
 at his body, he swept them aside with his halberd ; 
 and in this way he escaped free from hurt. So 
 quick was he in his movements, and so marvellous 
 was the way in which he balanced himself in his 
 progress across the bridge, that he seemed to be 
 endowed with power more than human; and not 
 only his own comrades but the enemy also looked 
 at him in breathless admiration. 
 
 Then another of Yorimasa's men, also a priest, 
 Jomyo by name, inspired by this example, came 
 forth and stood up at the end of the bridge, and 
 fitting his arrows to the bow, in rapid succession 
 shot about a dozen of the foe, in the twinkling of 
 an eye. 
 
 Crying out, " Oh, this is too much trouble ! " he 
 threw away his bow and arrow, and walked over 
 the bridge on another beam, sweeping aside with 
 his sword the arrows aimed at him. 
 
 46 
 
Yet another priest, famous for his great strength, 
 dashed out and followed after his friends across the 
 bridge. He soon came up with Jomyo, but as the 
 beams of the bridge were narrow he could not pass 
 him. Stopping for a moment to think what he should 
 do, he stretched out his hands and touched the hel- 
 met of the man just in front of him, then lightly 
 and quickly jumped leap-frog over his head. The 
 bridge was now soon swarming with the Genji, who 
 with fierce battle-cries began to attack the Heike, 
 whose advance was entirely checked. For some 
 minutes the Heike were greatly put out, not know- 
 ing what to do. 
 
 Then one brave youth, seeing how matters stood, 
 and that it required some one to take a dauntless 
 lead, sprang forth in front of the Heike and called 
 out : " Now that it comes to this, there is no other 
 way ! " and with these words he dashed his horse 
 into the river. It was the rainy season, and the 
 waters were higher and the current stronger than 
 usual. Black with mud the river ran swirling and 
 whirling on its course. 
 
 Never was there a braver sight than when the 
 young soldier drove his horse into the swollen 
 river and made for the other side. His comrades 
 could not stand still and watch him ; fired by his 
 courage, numbers of the Heike, shouting "I also! 
 I also ! " dashed in after him. In a few minutes, 
 while the Genji looked on in surprise, three hun- 
 
 47 
 

 dred men had followed the gallant young captain, 
 stemmed and crossed the torrent, and landed on 
 the other side ; and with the same dashing spirit, 
 carrying everything before them, they broke 
 through the last lines of the Genji and entered 
 the Byodoin Temple, where their last stand was 
 made. The Genji, with Yorimasa at their head, 
 were now in a desperate condition. Seeing his 
 father hard-pressed, Kanetsuna, Yorimasa's second 
 son, an intrepid young knight, rushed into the 
 thickest of the fight and tried to defend his father. 
 A Heike captain coming up with fifteen of his 
 men seized Kanetsuna, overpowered him, and cut 
 off his head. 
 
 Not one of Yorimasa's little band turned to flee. 
 Although they knew there was no hope, they 
 fought on face to face with the foe, for samurai 
 traditions held it a disgrace to be even wounded in 
 the back. One famous general in ancient history 
 issued an order to the effect that prizes would be 
 awarded to those who were shot in the forehead, 
 but those who were wounded in the back should 
 be slain. 
 
 One by one, the Genji fell, slain either by sword 
 or arrow. Yorimasa received several wounds. Then 
 he saw that there was no use in fighting more ; 
 all was lost. Those of the Genji who were still left 
 made a brave stand round their chief ; while they 
 kept the enemy at bay Yorimasa slipped away and 
 
 48 
 
hastened to Prince Takakura, in the temple, and 
 begged him to flee in safety while there was yet 
 time. 
 
 Having seen his Imperial master safe, Yorimasa 
 then retired to an inner part of the garden, and 
 sitting mider a large tree drew out his sword and 
 prepared himself to commit harakiri, for samurai 
 honour would not let him survive defeat. Calling 
 his retainer Watanabe, who had escaped unhurt and 
 who never left his master's side, Yorimasa bade 
 him act as second in the rite. Then quietly taking 
 off his armour, he composed a poem. He likened 
 himself to a fossil tree that never knows the joy of 
 blossoming, for he had never attained his ambition 
 (the destruction of his enemies), " and sad indeed 
 is the end of my life," the last line of the verse, 
 were the last words he uttered. 
 
 He took out his short sword, and thrusting it 
 into his side died like a brave and gallant samurai, 
 without a moan. Then from behind, as was his 
 duty as second, Watanabe cut off his master's 
 head, and so that it should not be discovered by the 
 enemy and carried away as a trophy of war, he 
 tied a large stone to it, and with sorrowful rever- 
 ence dropped it into the river and watched it sink 
 beneath the water out of sight. 
 
 In this way died Yorimasa; those of his follow- 
 ers who were not killed by the enemy died by their 
 own hand, and Prince Takakura, fleeing to Nara, 
 
 49 
 

 was overtaken by the Heike and put to death on 
 the way. 
 
 Yorimasa was seventy-five years of age when 
 he died. Though, as he lamented in his last 
 poem, he had not achieved his ambition in pun- 
 ishing the Heike, yet years later his work was 
 carried on, and the Heike were completely ex- 
 terminated by Yoritomo, the great chief and 
 mighty avenger of the Genji; and the name of Gen 
 Sanmi Yorimasa lives forever in the history of his 
 country. 
 
THE STORY OF YOSHITSUNE 
 
THE STORY OF YOSHITSUNE 
 
 IN old Japan more than seven hundred years 
 ago a fierce war was raging between the two 
 great clans, the Taira and the Minamoto, also 
 called the Heike and the Genji. These two famous 
 clans were always contesting together for political 
 power and military supremacy, and the country 
 was torn in two with the many bitter battles that 
 were fought. Indeed it may be said that the his- 
 tory of Japan for many years was the history of 
 these two mighty martial families ; sometimes the 
 Minamoto and sometimes the Taira gaining the 
 victory, or being beaten, as the case might be ; but 
 their swords knew no rest for a period of many 
 years. At last a strong and valiant general arose 
 in the House of Minamoto. His name was Yoshi- 
 tomo. At this time there were two aspirants for 
 the Imperial throne and civil war was raging in 
 the capital. One Imperial candidate was supported 
 by the Taira, the other by the Minamoto. Yoshi- 
 tomo, though a Minamoto, sided at first with the 
 Taira against the reigning Emperor ; but when he 
 saw how cruel and relentless their chief, Kiyomori, 
 
 53 
 

 was, he turned against him and called all his fol- 
 lowers to rally round the Minamoto standard and 
 fight to put down the Taira. 
 
 But fate was against the gallant and doughty- 
 warrior Yoshitomo, and he suffered a crushing 
 defeat at the hands of the Taira. He and his men, 
 while fleeing from the vigilance of their enemies, 
 were overtaken within the city gates, and ruth- 
 lessly slaughtered by Kiyomori and his soldiers. 
 
 Yoshitomo left behind him his beautiful young 
 wife, Tokiwa Gozen, and eight children, to mourn 
 his untimely death. Five of the elder children were 
 by a first wife. The third of these became Yori- 
 tomo, the great first Shogun of Japan, while the 
 eighth and youngest child was Ushiwaka, about 
 whom this story is written. Ushiwaka and the hero 
 Yoshitsune were one and the same person. Ushi- 
 waka (Young Ox — he was so called because of 
 his wonderful strength) was his name as a boy, 
 and Yoshitsune was the name he took when he 
 became of age. 
 
 At the time of his father's death, Ushiwaka was 
 a babe in the arms of his mother, Tokiwa Gozen, 
 but his tender age would not have saved his hfe 
 had he been found by his father's enemies. 
 
 After the defeat they had inflicted on the rival 
 clan, the Taira were all-powerful for a time. The 
 Minamoto clan were in dire straits and in danger 
 of being exterminated now, for so fierce was Kiyo- 
 
 54 
 
mori's hatred against his enemies that when a 
 Minamoto fell into his cruel hands he immediately 
 put the captive to death. 
 
 Realizing the great peril of the situation, To- 
 kiwa Gozen, the widow of Yoshitomo, full of fear 
 and anxiety for the safety of her little ones, quietly 
 hid herself in the country, taking with her Ushi- 
 waka and her two other children. So successful 
 was Tokiwa Gozen in concealing her hiding-place 
 that, though the Taira clan either killed or ban- 
 ished to a far-away island all the elder sons, rela- 
 tions, and partisans of the Minamoto chief, they 
 could not discover the whereabouts of the mother 
 and her children, notwithstanding the strict search 
 Kiyomori had made. 
 
 Determined to have his will, and angry at being 
 thwarted by a woman, Kiyomori at last hit on a 
 plan which he felt sure would not fail to draw the 
 wife of Yoshitomo from her hiding-place. He gave 
 orders that Sekiya, the mother of the fair Tokiwa, 
 should be seized and brought before him. He told 
 her sternly that if she would reveal her daughter's 
 hiding-place she should be well treated, but if she 
 refused to do as she was told she would be tortured 
 and put to death. When the old lady declared that 
 she did not know where Tokiwa was, as in truth 
 she did not, Kiyomori thrust her into prison and 
 had her treated cruelly day after day. 
 
 Now the reason why Kiyomori was so set on 
 
 55 
 

 finding Tokiwa and her sons was that while Yo- 
 shitomo's heirs lived he and his family could know 
 no safety, for the strongest moral law in every 
 Japanese heart was the old command, "A man may 
 not live under the same heaven with the murderer 
 of his father," and the Japanese warrior recked 
 nothing of life or death, of home or love in obeying 
 this — as he deemed — supreme commandment. 
 Women too burned with the same zeal in avenging 
 the wrongs of their fathers and husbands. 
 
 Tokiwa Gozen, though hiding in the country, 
 heard of what had befallen her mother, and great 
 was her sorrow and distress. She sat down on the 
 mats and moaned aloud : " It is wrong of me to 
 let my poor innocent mother suffer to save myself 
 and my children, but if I give myself up, Kiyomori 
 will surely take my lord's sons and kill thera.^ 
 What shall I do ? Oh ! what shall I do .? " 
 
 Poor Tokiwa! Her heart was torn between her 
 love for her mother and her love for her children. 
 Her anxiety and distraction were pitiful to see. 
 Finally she decided that it was impossible for her 
 to remain still and silent under the circumstances ; 
 she could not endure the thought that her mother 
 was suffering persecution while she had the power 
 of preventing it, so holding the infant Ushiwaka 
 in her bosom under her kimono, she took his two 
 elder brothers (one seven and the other five years 
 of age) by the hand and started for the capital.] 
 
 56 
 
There were no trains in those days and all trav- 
 elling by ordinary people had to be done on foot. 
 Daimios and great and important personages were 
 carried in palanquins, and they only could travel 
 in comfort and in state. Tokiwa could not hope 
 to meet with kindness or hospitality on the way, 
 for she was a Minamoto, and the Taira being all- 
 powerful it was death to any one to harbour a Mina- 
 moto fugitive. So the obstacles that beset Tokiwa 
 were great ; but she was a samurai woman, and she 
 quailed not at duty, however hard or stern that duty 
 was. The greater the difficulties, the higher her 
 courage rose to meet them. At last she set out on 
 her momentous and celebrated journey. 
 
 It was winter-time and snow lay on the ground, 
 and the wind blew piercingly cold and the roads 
 were bad. What Tokiwa, a delicately nurtured 
 woman, suffered from cold and fatigue, from 
 loneliness and fear, from anxiety for her little 
 children, from dread lest she should reach the capi- 
 tal too late to save her old mother, who might die 
 under the cruel treatment to which she was being 
 subjected, or be put to death by Kiyomori, in his 
 wrath, or finally lest she herself should be seized by 
 the Taira, and her filial plan be frustrated before 
 she could reach the capital — all this must have 
 been greater than any words can tell. 
 
 Sometimes poor distressed Tokiwa sat down by 
 the wayside to hush the wailing babe she carried in 
 
 57 
 

 her bosom, or to rest the two little boys, who, tired 
 and faint and famished, clung to her robes, crying 
 for their usual rice. On and on she went, soothing 
 and consoling them as best she could, till at last 
 she reached Kyoto, weary, footsore, . and almost 
 heart-broken. But though she was well-nigh over- 
 come with physical exhaustion, yet her purpose 
 never flagged. She went at once to the enemy's 
 camp and asked to be admitted to the presence of 
 General Kiyomori. 
 
 When she was shown into the dread man's pre- 
 sence, she prostrated "herself at his feet and said 
 that she had come to give herself up and to release 
 her mother. 
 
 "I am Tokiwa — the widow of Yoshitomo. I 
 have come with my three children to beseech you 
 to spare my mother's life and to set her free. My 
 poor old mother has done nothing wrong. I am 
 guilty of hiding myself and the little ones, yet 
 I pray humbly for your august forgiveness." 
 
 She pleaded in such an agonizing way that 
 Kiyomori, the Taira chieftain, was struck with ad- 
 miration for her filial piety, a virtue more highly 
 esteemed than any other in Japan. He felt sin- 
 cerely sorry for Tokiwa in her woe, and her beauty 
 and her tears melted his hard heart, and he pro- 
 mised her that if she would become his wife he 
 would spare not only her mother's life, but her 
 three children also. 
 
 58 
 
For the sake of saving her children's lives the 
 sad-hearted woman consented to Kiyomori's pro- 
 posal. It must have been terrible to her to wed with 
 her lord's enemy, the very man who had caused his 
 death ; but the thought that by so doing she saved 
 the lives of his sons, who would one day surely arise 
 to avenge their father's cruel death, must have been 
 her consolation and her recompense for the sacrifice. 
 
 Kiyomori showed himself kinder to Tokiwa than 
 he had ever shown himself to any one, for he al- 
 lowed her to keep the babe Ushiwaka by her side. 
 The two elder boys he sent to a temple to be trained 
 as acolytes under the tutelage of priests. 
 
 By placing them out of the world in the seclu- 
 sion of priesthood, Kiyomori felt that he would 
 have little to fear from them when they attained 
 manhood. How terribly and bitterly he was mis- 
 taken we learn from history, for two of Yoshitomo's 
 sons, banished though they had been for years 
 and years, arose like a rushing, mighty whirlwind 
 from the obscurity of the monastery to avenge their 
 father, and they wiped the Taira from off the face 
 of the earth. 
 
 Time passed by, and when the little babe Ushi- 
 waka at last reached the age of seven, Kiyomori 
 likewise took him from his mother and sent him 
 to the priests. The sorrow of Tokiwa, bereft of 
 the last child of her beloved lord Yoshitomo, can 
 better be imagined than described. But in her 
 
 59 
 

 golden captivity even Kiyomori had not been able 
 to deprive her of one iota of the incomparable 
 power of motherhood, that of influencing the life 
 of her child to the end of his days. As the little 
 fellow had lain in her arms night and day, as she 
 crooned him to sleep and taught him to walk, she 
 forever whispered the name of Minamoto Yoshi- 
 tomo in his ear. 
 
 At last one day her patience was rewarded and 
 Ushiwaka lisped his father's name correctly. Then 
 Tokiwa clasped him proudly to her breast, and 
 wept tears of thankfulness and joy and of sorrow- 
 ing remembrance, for she could never even for a 
 day banish Yoshitomo from her mind. As Ushi- 
 waka grew older and could understand better what 
 she said, Tokiwa would daily whisper, " Remem- 
 ber thy father, Minamoto Yoshitomo ! Grow strong 
 and avenge his death, for he died at the hands 
 of the Taira ! " And day by day she told him 
 stories of his great and good father — of his mar- 
 tial prowess in battle, and of his great strength 
 and wonderful wielding of the sword, and she bade 
 her little son remember and be like his father. 
 And the mother's words and tears, sown in long 
 years of patience and bitter endurance, bore fruit 
 beyond all she had ever hoped or dreamed. 
 
 So Ushiwaka was taken from his mother at the 
 age of seven, and was sent to the Tokobo Monas- 
 tery, at Kuramayama, to be trained as a monk. 
 
 60 
 
Even at that early age he showed great intelligence, 
 read the Sacred Books with avidity, and surprised 
 the priests by his diligence and quickness of mem- 
 ory. He was naturally a very hjgh-spirited youth, 
 and could brook no control and hated to yield to 
 others in anything whatsoever. As the years 
 passed by and he grew older, he came to hear 
 from his teachers and school friends of how his 
 father Yoshitomo and his clan the Minamoto had 
 been overthrown by the Taira, and this filled him 
 with such intense sorrow and bitterness that sleep- 
 ing or waking he could never banish the subject 
 from his mind. As he listened daily to these 
 things the words of his mother, which she had 
 whispered in his ear as a child, now came throb- 
 bing back to his mind, and he understood their 
 full meaning for the first time. In the lonely nights 
 he felt again her hot tears falling on his face, and 
 heard her repeat as clearly as a bell in the silerice 
 of the darkness : " Remember thy father, Mina- 
 moto Yoshitomo 1 Avenge his death, for he died 
 at the hands of the Taira ! " 
 
 At last one night the lad dreamed that his 
 mother, beautiful and sad as he remembered her 
 in the days of his childhood, came to his bedside 
 and said to him, while the tears streamed down 
 her face : "Avenge thy father, Yoshitomo ! Unless 
 thou remember my last words, I cannot rest in my 
 grave. I am dying, Ushiwaka, remember!" 
 
 6i 
 

 And Ushiwaka awoke as he cried aloud in his 
 agony : " I will ! Honourable mother, I will ! " 
 
 From that night his heart burned within him 
 and the fire and love of clan-race stirred his soul. 
 Continual brooding over the wrongs of his clan 
 generated in his heart a fierce desire for revenge, 
 and he finally resolved to abandon the priesthood, 
 become a great general like his father, and punish 
 the Taira. And as his ambition was fired and ex- 
 alted and his mind thrilled back to the days when 
 his poor unhappy mother Tokiwa prayed and wept, 
 over him, daily whispering in his ear the name of 
 his father, his will grew to purpose strong. Tokiwa 
 had not suffered in vain. From this time on, Ushi- 
 waka bided his time every night till all in the tem- 
 ple were fast asleep. When he heard the priests 
 snoring, and knew himself safe from observation, 
 he would steal out from the temple, and, making 
 his way down the hillside into the valley, he would 
 draw his wooden sword and practise fencing by 
 himself, and, striking the trees and the stones im- 
 agine that they were his Taira foes. As he worked 
 in this way night after night, he felt his muscles 
 grow strong, and this practice taught him how to 
 wield his sword with skill. 
 
 One night as usual Ushiwaka had gone out to the 
 valley and was diligently brandishing about his 
 wooden sword. His mind fully bent upon his self- 
 taught lesson, he was marching up and down, 
 
 62 
 
chanting snatches of war-songs and striking the 
 trees and the rocks, when suddenly a great cloud 
 spread over the heavens, the rain fell, the thunder 
 roared, and the lightning flashed, and a great noise 
 went through the valley, as if all the trees were 
 being torn up by the roots and their trunks were 
 splitting. 
 
 While Ushiwaka wondered what this could 
 mean, a great giant over ten feet in height stood 
 before him. He had large round glaring eyes that 
 glinted like metal mirrors ; his nose was bright red, ■ 
 and it must have been about a foot long ; his hands 
 were like the claws of a bird, and to each there 
 were only two fingers. The feathers of long wings 
 at each side peeped from under the creature's 
 robes, and he looked like a gigantic goblin. Fear- 
 ful indeed was this apparition. But Ushiwaka was 
 a brave and spirited youth and the son of a soldier, 
 and he was not to be daunted by anything. With- 
 out moving a muscle of his face he gripped his 
 sword more tightly and simply asked : " Who are 
 you, sirrah ? " 
 
 The goblin laughed aloud and said : " I am the 
 King of the Tengu,' the elves of the mountains, 
 and I have made this valley my home for many a 
 long year. I have admired your perseverance in 
 coming to this place night after night for the pur- 
 
 ' The Tengu are strange creatures with very long noses ; 
 sometimes they have the head of a hawk and the body of a man. 
 
 63 
 
fl 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 s 
 
 pose of practising fencing all by yourself, and I 
 have come to meet you, with the intention of 
 teaching you all I know of the art of the sword." 
 
 Ushiwaka was delighted when he heard this, 
 for the Tengu have supernatural powers, and for- 
 tunate indeed are those whom they favour. He 
 thanked the giant elf and expressed his readiness 
 to begin at once. He then whirled up his sword 
 and began to attack the Tengu, but the elf shifted 
 his position with the quickness of lightning, and 
 taking from his belt a fan made of seven feathers 
 parried the showering blows right and left so 
 cleverly that the young knight's interest became 
 thoroughly aroused. Every night he came out for 
 the lesson. He never missed once, summer or 
 winter, and in this way he learned all the secrets 
 of the art which the Tengu could teach him. 
 
 The Tengu was a great master and Ushiwaka 
 an apt pupil. He became so proficient in fencing 
 that he could overcome ten or twenty small Tengu 
 in the twinkling of an eye, and he acquired ex- 
 traordinary skill and dexterity in the use of the 
 sword ; and the Tengu also imparted to him the 
 wonderful adroitness and agility which made him 
 so famous in after-life. 
 
 Now Ushiwaka was about fifteen years old, a 
 comely youth, and tall for his age. At this time 
 there lived on Mount Hiei, just outside the capi- 
 tal, a wild bonze named Musashi Bo Benkei, who 
 
 64 
 
was such a lawless and turbulent fellow that he 
 had become notorious for his deeds of violence. 
 The city rang with the stories of his misdeeds, and 
 so well known had he become that people could 
 not hear his name without fear and trembling. 
 
 Benkei suddenly made up his mind that it would 
 be good sport to steal a thousand swords from 
 various knights. 
 
 No sooner did the wild idea enter his head 
 than he began to put it into practice. Every night 
 he sauntered forth to the Gojo Bridge of Kyoto, 
 and when a knight or any man carrying a sword 
 passed by, Benkei would snatch the weapon from 
 his girdle. If the owners yielded up their blades 
 quietly, Benkei allowed them to pass unhurt, but 
 if not, he would strike them dead with a single blow 
 of the huge halberd he carried. So great was Ben- 
 kei's strength that he always overcame his victim, 
 — resistance was useless, — and night by night 
 one and sometimes two men met death at his 
 hands on the Gojo Bridge. In this way Benkei 
 gained such a terrible reputation that everybody 
 far and near feared to meet him, and after dark 
 no one dared to pass near the bridge he was known 
 to haunt, so fearful were the tales told of " the 
 dreaded robber of swords. 
 
 At last this story reached the ears of Ushiwaka, 
 and he said to himself : " What an interesting man 
 this must be ! If it is true that he is a bonze, he 
 
 65 
 
if 
 
 must be a strange one indeed ; but as he only robs 
 people of their swords, he cannot be a common 
 highwayman. If I could make such a strong man . 
 a retainer of mine, he would be of great assistance 
 to me when I punish my enemies, the Taira clan. 
 Good! To-night I will go to the Gojo Bridge and 
 try the mettle of this Benkei ! " 
 
 Ushiwaka, being a youth of great courage, had 
 no sooner made up his mind to meet Benkei than 
 he proceeded to put his plan into execution. He 
 started out that same evening. It was a beautiful 
 moonlight night, and taking with him his favourite 
 flute he strolled forth through the streets of the 
 sleeping city till he came to the Gojo Bridge. Then 
 from the opposite direction came a tall figure which 
 appeared to touch the clouds, so gigantic was its 
 stature. The stranger was clad in a suit of coal- 
 black armour and carried an immense halberd. 
 
 " This must be the sword-robber ! He is indeed 
 strong ! " said Ushiwaka to himself, but he was 
 not in the least daunted, and went on playing his 
 flute quite calmly. 
 
 Presently the armed giant halted and gazed at 
 Ushiwaka, but evidently thought him a mere 
 youth, and decided to let him go unmolested, for 
 he was about to pass him by without lifting a hand. 
 This indifference on the part of Benkei not only 
 disappointed but angered Ushiwaka. Having 
 waited in vain for the stranger to offer violence, 
 
 66 
 
our hero approached Benkei, and, with the inten- 
 tion of picking a quarrel, suddenly kicked the lat- 
 ter's halberd out of his hand. 
 
 Benkei, who had first thought to spare Ushiwaka 
 on account of his youth, became very angry when 
 he found himself insulted by a lad to whom he had 
 been intentionally kind. In a fury he exclaimed, 
 "Miserable stripling!" and raising his halberd 
 struck sideways at Ushiwaka, thinking to slice him 
 in two at the waist and to see his body fall asunder. 
 But the young knight nimbly avoided the blow 
 which would have killed him, and springing back 
 a few paces he flung his fan' at Benkei's head and 
 uttered a loud cry of defiance. The fan struck 
 Benkei on the forehead right between the eyes, 
 making him mad with pain. In a transport of rage 
 Benkei aimed a fearful blow at Ushiwaka, as if he 
 were splitting a log of wood with an axe. This time 
 Ushiwaka sprang up to the parapet of the bridge, 
 clapped his hands, and laughed in derision, saying : 
 
 " Here I am ! Don't you see > Here I am 1 " 
 and Benkei was again thwarted thus. 
 
 Benkei, who had never known his strokes miss 
 before, had now failed twice in catching this nimble 
 opponent. Frantic with chagrin and baffled rage, 
 he now rushed furiously to the attack, whirling his 
 great halberd round in all directions till it looked 
 
 ' The fighter's fan was always made of metal and was often 
 used as a weapon. 
 
 67 
 
a 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 like a water-wheel in motion, striking wildly and 
 blindly at Ushiwaka. But the young knight had 
 been taught tricks innumerable by the giant Tengu 
 of Kuramayama, and he had profited so well by 
 his lessons that the King Tengu had at last said 
 that even he could teach him nothing more, and 
 now, as it may well be imagined, he was too quick 
 for the heavy Benkei. When Benkei struck in 
 front, Ushiwaka was behind, and when Benkei 
 aimed a blow behind, Ushiwaka darted in front. 
 Nimble as a monkey and swift as a swallow, Ushi- 
 waka avoided all the blows aimed at him, and, 
 finding himself outmatched, even the redoubtable 
 Benkei grew tired. 
 
 Ushiwaka saw that Benkei was played out. He 
 kept up the game a little longer and then changed 
 his tactics. Seizing his opportunity, he knocked 
 Benkei's halberd out of his hand. When the giant 
 stooped to pick his weapon up, Ushiwaka ran be- 
 hind him and with a quick movement tripped him 
 up. There lay the big man on all fours, while 
 Ushiwaka nimbly strode across his back and press- 
 ing him down asked him how he liked this kind of 
 play. 
 
 All this time Benkei had wondered at the courage 
 of the youth in attacking and challenging a man so 
 much larger than himself, but now he was filled 
 with amazement at Ushiwaka's wonderful strength 
 and adroitness. 
 
 68 
 
"I am indeed astonished at what you have done," 
 said Benkei. "Who in the world can you be? I 
 have fought with many men on this bridge, but you 
 are the first of my antagonists who has displayed 
 such strength. Are you a god or a tenguf You 
 certainly cannot be an ordinary human being ! " 
 
 Ushiwaka laughed and said : " Are you afraid 
 for the first time, then ? " 
 
 " I am," answered Benkei. 
 
 " Will you from henceforth be my retainer ? " 
 demanded Ushiwaka. 
 
 " I will in very truth be your retainer, but may 
 I know who you are V asked Benkei meekly. 
 
 Ushiwaka now felt sure that Benkei was in 
 earnest. He therefore allowed him to get up from 
 the ground, and then said : " I have nothing to 
 hide from you. I am the youngest son of Minamoto 
 Yoshitomo and my name is Ushiwaka." 
 
 Benkei started with surprise when he heard these 
 words and said : " What is this I hear .? Are you 
 in truth a son of the Lord Yoshitomo of the 
 Minamoto clan .? That is the reason I felt from 
 the first moment of our encounter that your deeds 
 were not those of a common person. No wonder 
 that I thought this ! I am only too happy to become 
 the retainer of such a distinguished and spirited 
 young knight. I will follow you as my lord and 
 master from this very moment, if you will allow 
 me. I can wish for no greater honour." 
 
 69 
 

 So there and then, on the Gojo Bridge in tlie 
 silver moonlight, the bonze Benkei vowed to be 
 the true and faithful vassal of the young knight 
 Ushiwaka and to serve him loyally till death, and 
 thus was the compact between lord and vassal 
 made. From that time on, Benkei gave up his wild 
 and lawless ways and devoted his life to the service 
 of Ushiwaka, who was highly pleased at having 
 won such a strong liegeman to his side. 
 
 Although Ushiwaka had now secured Benkei, it 
 was impossible for only two men, however strong, 
 to think of fighting the Taira clan, so they both 
 decided that the cherished plan must wait till the 
 Minamoto were stronger. While thus waiting they 
 heard a report to the effect that a descendant of 
 Tawara Toda Hidesato ^ named Hidehira was now 
 a famous general in Kaiwai of the Ashu Province, 
 and that he was so powerful that no one dared op- 
 pose him. Hearing this, Ushiwaka thought that it 
 would be a good plan to pay the general a visit 
 and try to interest him, if possible, in the fortunes 
 of the House of Minamoto. He consulted with 
 Benkei, who encouraged the young knight in his 
 scheme of enlisting the General Hidehira as a par- 
 tisan, and the two therefore left Kyoto secretly 
 and journeyed as quickly as possible to Oshu on 
 this errand. 
 
 ' See in the story of "My Lord Bag of Rice," The Japanese 
 Fairy Book (Constable, London). 
 70 
 
if 
 On the way there, Ushiwaka and Benkei came 
 to the Temple of Atsuta, and as they considered it 
 important that the young knight should look older 
 now, Ushiwaka performed the ceremony of Gem- 
 buku at the shrine. This was a rite performed in olden 
 times when youths reached the age of manhood. 
 They then had to shave off the front part of their 
 hair and to change their names as a sign that they 
 had left childhood behind. Ushiwaka now took the 
 name of Yoshitsune. As he was the eighth son, it 
 would have been more correct for him to have 
 assumed the name of Hachiro, but as his uncle 
 Tametomo the Archer, of whom you have already 
 read, was named Hachiro, he purposely did not 
 take this name. From this time forth our hero is 
 known as Yoshitsune, and this name he has glori- 
 fied forever by his wonderful bravery and many 
 heroic exploits. In Japanese history he is the knight 
 without fear and without reproach, the darling 
 of the people, to them almost an incarnation of 
 Hachiman, the popular God of War. And as for 
 Benkei, never can you find in all history a vassal 
 who was more true or loyal to his master than 
 Benkei. He was Yoshitsune's right hand in every- 
 thing, and his strength and wisdom carried them 
 successfully through many a dire emergency. 
 
 From Kyoto to Oshu is a long journey of about 
 three hundred miles, but at length Yoshitsune (as 
 we must now call him) and Benkei reached their 
 
 71 
 
3 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 destination and craved the General Hidehira's as- 
 sistance. They found that Hidehira was a warm 
 adherent of the Minamoto cause, and under the 
 late Lord Yoshitomo he and his family had enjoyed 
 great favour. When the general learned, therefore, 
 that Yoshitsune was the son of the illustrious 
 Minamoto chief, his joy knew no bounds, and he 
 made Yoshitsune and Benkei heartily welcome and 
 treated them both as guests of honour and import- 
 ance. 
 
 Just at this time Yoshitsune's eldest brother, 
 Yoritomo, who had been banished to an island in 
 Idzu, collected a great army and raised his standard 
 against the Taira. When the news about Yoritomo 
 reached Yoshitsune, he rejoiced, for he felt that the 
 hour had at last come when the Minamoto would 
 be revenged on the Taira for all the wrongs they 
 had suffered at the hands of the latter. 
 
 With the help of Hidehira and the faithful 
 Benkei, he collected a small army of warriors and 
 at once marched over to his brother's camp in Idzu. 
 He sent a messenger ahead to inform Yoritomo 
 that his youngest brother, now named Yoshitsune, 
 was coming to aid him in his fight against the 
 Taira. 
 
 Yoritomo was exceedingly glad at this unex- 
 pected good news, for all that helped to swell his 
 forces now brought nearer the day when he would 
 be able to strike his long-planned blow at the power 
 
 72 
 
of the hated Taira. As soon as Yoshitsune reached 
 Idzu, Yoritomo arranged for an immediate meeting. 
 Although the two men were brothers, it must be 
 remembered that their father had been killed, and 
 the family utterly scattered, when they were mere 
 children, Yoshitsune being at that time but an 
 infant in his mother's arms. As this was therefore 
 the first time they had met Yoritomo knew no- 
 thing of his young brother's character. 
 
 One of Yoshitsune's elder brothers had come 
 with him, and Yoritomo being a shrewd general 
 wished to test them both to see of what mettle 
 they were made. He ordered his retainers to bring 
 a brass basin full of boihng water. When it was 
 brought, Yoritomo ordered Noriyori, the elder of 
 the two, to carry it to him first. Now brass being 
 a good conductor of heat, the basin was very hot 
 and Noriyori stupidly let it fall. Yoritomo ordered 
 it to be filled again and bade Yoshitsune bring it 
 to him. Without moving a muscle of his handsome 
 face Yoshitsune took hold of the almost unbear- 
 ably hot vessel and carried it with due ceremony 
 slowly across the room. This exhibition of nerve 
 and endurance filled Yoritomo with admiration 
 and he was favourably struck with Yoshitsune's 
 character. As for Noriyori, who had been unable 
 to hold a hot basin for a few moments, he had no 
 use for him at all, except as a common soldier. 
 
 Yoritomo begged Yoshitsune to become his 
 
 11 
 

 right-hand man and zealously to espouse his cause. 
 Yoshitsune declared that this had been his lifelong 
 ambition ever since he could remember, — as they 
 both were sons of the same father, so was their 
 cause and destiny one. Yoritomo made Yoshitsune 
 a general of part of his army and ordered him 
 in the name of his father Yoshitomo to chastise 
 the Taira. 
 
 Delighted beyond all words at the wonderfully 
 auspicious turn events were taking, Yoshitsune 
 hastened his preparations for the march. The 
 longed-for hour had come to which through his 
 whole childhood and youth he had looked forward, 
 and for which his whole being had thirsted for 
 many years. He could now fulfil the last words 
 of his unhappy mother, and punish the Taira for 
 all the evil they had wrought against the Mina- 
 moto. All the wild restlessness of his youth, which 
 had driven him forth to wield his wooden sword 
 against the rocks in the Kuramayama Valley and 
 to try his strength against Benkei on the Gojo 
 Bridge, now found vent in action most dear to a 
 born warrior's heart. With several thousands of 
 troops under him, Yoshitsune marched up to Kyoto 
 and waged war against the Taira, and defeated 
 them in a series of brilliant engagements. 
 
 The stricken Taira multitudes fled before the 
 avenger like autumn leaves before the blast, and 
 Yoshitsune pursued them to the sea. At Dan-no- 
 
 74 
 
Ura the Taira made a last stand, but all in vain. 
 Their lion leader, Kiyomori, was dead, and there 
 was no great chieftain to rally them in the disor- 
 dered retreat that now ensued. Yoshitsune came 
 sweeping down upon them, and they and their 
 fleet and their infant Emperor likewise, with their 
 women and children, sank beneath the waves. 
 Only a scattered few lived to tell the tale of the 
 terrible destruction that overtook them on the sea. 
 
 Thus did Yoshitsune become a great warrior 
 and general. Thus did he fulfil the ambitions 
 of his youth and avenge his father Yoshitomo's 
 death. He was without a rival in the whole country 
 for his marvellous bravery and successive victories. 
 He was adored by the people as their most popu- 
 lar hero and darling, and throughout the length 
 and breadth of the land his praise was sung by 
 every one. 
 
 Even to this day there is no one in Japan who 
 has not heard the name of Yoshitsune. The next 
 story, "The Story of Benkei," will tell you more of 
 Yoshitsune, for the two lives are linked together 
 in the fame and glory of noble deeds done, of 
 dangers passed, of troubles and reverses borne, 
 and of honours earned and joy and victory shared 
 together — to be told and remembered forever . 
 
THE STORY OF BENKEI 
 
Eg 
 
 THE STORY OF BENKEI 
 
 SEQUEL TO THE STORY OF YOSHITSUNE 
 
 THOSE who have read the story of the great 
 warrior Yoshitsune will certainly remember 
 that his retainer Benkei was a gigantic bonze as 
 remarkable for his physical strength as he was for 
 his original character. In the story of Yoshitsune 
 very little was said about Benkei ; you may there- 
 fore like to hear something more about the famous 
 man who is so favourite a hero with Japanese 
 children and so greatly respected in Japan for his 
 faithfulness to his master. 
 
 Benkei was the son of a Buddhist priest named 
 Bensho, High Steward of the Temple of Gongen 
 at Kumano, a famous shrine from ancient times, 
 and his mother was the daughter of a high Court 
 ofBcial of the second rank. 
 
 Benkei was no ordinary mortal. Most children 
 come into the world within ten months, but Benkei 
 kept his mother waiting one year and six months 
 for him ; and when he was born he already had 
 teeth and a luxuriant growth of hair, and was so 
 
 79 
 

 strong and big that he could walk from the first 
 as well as most children of two or three years of 
 age. 
 
 Seeing how extraordinarily big and strong he 
 was, the family were lost in amazement ; but their 
 wonder quickly changed to dismay, for the mother 
 died soon after giving birth to her son. The father, 
 Bensho, was very angry at this, and took an aver- 
 sion to the child who had brought, he said, so 
 great a misfortune upon him. He even wished to 
 abandon the boy altogether, believing that, as 
 Benkei's birth had cost his mother's life, he would 
 in after years only prove a curse to the family. 
 
 Now the boy's aunt (who was married to a man 
 named Yama-no-i), hearing this, pitied her little 
 nephew Benkei, and going to her brother said : 
 " If you are going to treat the child so cruelly as 
 to cast him away, please give him to me. I have 
 no children and will bring him up as my own 
 child. He is not responsible for his mother's death. 
 It is fate, and there is no help for it ! " 
 
 Bensho consented to her taking the child, say- 
 ing that he did not care what happened to him so 
 long as he was kept out of his sight, for he could 
 no longer bear to see him. So Benkei was adopted 
 by his aunt, who took him away to the capital of 
 Kyoto. 
 
 The child rewarded her care and grew to be a 
 fine boy beyond all expectation. He was exceedingly 
 
 80 
 
strong and healthy ; at five or six years of age he 
 was equal in size and strength to boys of ten or 
 twelve, and gave promise of unusual intelligence 
 and cleverness. 
 
 Unfortunately his face was as fierce as that of 
 a demon and he looked so truly savage and ugly 
 that he gradually earned for himself the nickname 
 of Oni-Waka, or Demon Youth. 
 
 In a few years his uncle thought that it was 
 time to send the boy to school, and he accordingly 
 sent Benkei to the monastery of Eizan and placed 
 him under the tutorship of the famous priest 
 Kwankei. In Japan as in England in those times 
 all learning was in the hands of the priests, and 
 the temples were the only schools. 
 
 When Benkei arrived at Kwankei's temple he 
 was taught the reading and writing of Chinese 
 characters, and as he was at first docile and dili- 
 gent, and obedient to all set over him, he made 
 rapid progress, and not only satisfied but pleased 
 his teacher, who commended his industry; but 
 after a time he chafed at the restraint of his new 
 surroundings and began to give trouble. Not con- 
 tent with being unruly himself, he would lead the 
 other novices away from their studies into the 
 mountains and play all kinds of rough games with 
 them, and, of course, being by nature much stronger 
 and bigger than any of them, none of his com- 
 panions could stand against him. It therefore hap- 
 
 8i 
 
 m 
 
3 
 
 pened that in every contest he invariably gained 
 the victory, and this elated him so much that he 
 thought of nothing but his sports and his triumphs, 
 and, neglecting his lessons entirely, practised ath- 
 letic games day after day, quite forgetting every- 
 thing else. 
 
 Oni-Waka's teacher, Kwankei, hearing about 
 the youth's wild doings, and considering them as 
 unseemly, sent for him and told him that such be- 
 haviour not only grieved his guardians but brought 
 disgrace upon the holy temple ; but his rebuke fell 
 upon deaf ears and did no good at all. While he 
 was being scolded, Benkei listened respectfully 
 enough ; but as soon as the reverend teacher turned 
 his back he would forthwith be as wild, if not 
 wilder, than ever. His conduct grew worse and 
 worse, till at last, losing all patience, the master 
 priest forbade hiip to go out of the house, and 
 then enforced his order by shutting him up in a 
 monastery. 
 
 This punishment Oni-\A/aka deeply resented, and 
 one night, eluding the vigilance of his gaolers, he 
 stole out quietly, and picking up a great log of 
 wood began to destroy everything he could. First 
 he smashed the gateway ; then the fences all 
 round the temple ; then he broke the shutters and 
 the sliding screens inside ; indeed everything he 
 could reach, he wrecked. The bonzes, roused 
 from their slumbers by the unexpected noise, 
 
 82 
 
which sounded as if a troop of robbers were at 
 work, were all so frightened that they could do 
 nothing to stop the whirlwind of destruction. Hfl 
 When Oni-Waka had done all the mischief he could ^"^ 
 he felt that, after this last mad prank, the Temple 
 of Eizan was no place for him, so he fled from the 
 spot forever. He was now just seventeen years of 
 age, and he called himself Musashi Bo Benkei. 
 
 Oni-Waka showed a sense of humour when he 
 called himself Musashi Bo Benkei. In olden times 
 there lived in Eizan a man named Musashi, who 
 was turbulent and wild in his youth, and yet be- 
 came a famous bonze and lived until the ripe age 
 of sixty-one. Oni-Waka, having heard about this 
 famous man, made up his mind to be like him, and 
 therefore called himself Musashi Bo, or Musashi 
 the Bonze. The first syllable — "Ben" — of Ben- 
 kei was taken from the first character of his fa- 
 ther's name (Bensho), and the second — " kei " — 
 was the last syllable of his teacher's name (Kwan- 
 kei). The name Benkei was therefore a combina- 
 tion of the names of his father and teacher. 
 
 Ashamed to return home to his uncle and aunt 
 after his behaviour at the monastery, Benkei made 
 up his mind to travel. This he did much after the 
 fashion of German apprentices at about the same 
 period in Europe. Leaving Kyoto, he came to 
 Osaka ; from Osaka he went to the province of Awa 
 in the island of Shikoku; he then travelled all 
 
 83 
 

 through that island, and thence wandered back to 
 the mainland, where in the province of Harima he 
 came at last to a monastery called Shosa. This 
 monastery was as large as that of Eizan, and Ben- 
 kei thought that he would like to stay there for a 
 time as a student. With the consent of the abbot, 
 Benkei was enrolled as an acolyte of this temple. 
 
 Among the numerous novices in the temple 
 there was one named Kaien, who was nearly as 
 fond of mischief as Benkei himself, and he was 
 known in the neighbourhood for a troublesome 
 fellow, no one young or old being safe from his 
 foolish pranks. One day soon after Benkei's ar- 
 rival, Kaien found the newcomer taking a nap, so 
 for fun he wrote on Benkei's cheek the Chinese 
 character for g-eta, or " clog." 
 
 When Benkei woke up and went into the court- 
 yard he noticed that everybody he came near 
 seemed to be laughing at him, though nobody 
 would say why. 
 
 Thinking that there must be something strange 
 in his appearance he glanced into a bowl of water 
 and at once discovered the cause of the merriment. 
 Angry at the trick played on him, he seized a 
 thick stick and rushing into the midst of his fel- 
 low novices shouted : " You rogues ! I suppose you 
 thought that you were doing something clever 
 when you scribbled on my face. Now just come 
 here, one by one, and kneel down and beg my par- 
 
 84 
 
don. If you do not you will soon be sorry for 
 yourselves." 
 
 Benkei looked so angry and spoke so fiercely TfU 
 that most of the acolytes were frightened. Four 
 or five of the boldest, however, answered him 
 back, saying : " What do you mean, you lazy fel- 
 low, by complaining about a trick played upon you 
 while you were asleep in the middle of the day .? 
 If we hear any more of your grumbling, we will 
 throw you out of the monastery." 
 
 In this way they tried to frighten Benkei, but 
 he did not budge an inch, and his only reply was 
 to lift his stick and knock down the. four or five 
 who had spoken. 
 
 Seeing this, Kaien, the author of all this 
 trouble, rushed up, saying : " You are a coward to 
 attack fellows half your size. Suppose for a change 
 you fight with me ! " 
 
 Then looking round for a weapon, and seeing a 
 large log of wood on a fire close by, he picked it 
 up and faced the enraged Benkei, adding : " It was 
 I who scribbled on your face. If you are angry, 
 come on and let us fight it out ! " 
 
 The two closed at once and fought for some 
 time ; then Benkei grew impatient, and seizing 
 Kaien by his collar and belt lifted him off his feet. 
 The other novices, seeing this, cried out in alarm : 
 " Kaien has been lifted off his feet. He can't fight 
 now. He is helpless 1 " 
 
 85 
 

 Then they shouted to Kaien to apologize and 
 save himself. 
 
 " Pardon ! Pardon ! Benkei ! Mercy ! " screamed 
 the youth, now bitterly repenting his folly. 
 
 Benkei, however, did not hear Kaien's cry for 
 mercy, for he was like a madman now. He hardly 
 knew what he did or said, for his blood was fired 
 by the taunts of the young men and by the fight. 
 
 " You shall die," screamed Benkei, " mannerless 
 coward that you are ; you shall die, I say, and 
 your carcass shall be eaten by crows ! " With these 
 words he shook Kaien as mercilessly as a dog does a 
 rat, and then flung him upon the tiled roof of the 
 chapel, a height of some fourteen or fifteen feet. 
 Kaien fell on the roof, rolled down the tiles, and 
 at last, striking a rock in the garden, was killed on 
 the spot. When the foolish and unfortunate lad 
 was flung up on the roof by Benkei, he still held 
 the smoking brand which he had all to no purpose 
 used against his antagonist and this, falling on the 
 building, flared up and set fire to the temple. Just 
 then a breeze sprang up and fanned the flames into 
 a fierce blaze ; sparks from the roof dropped upon 
 the curving tiers of the five-storied pagoda, and the 
 main gateway, and the school and the houses of 
 the bonzes, till the whole of the monastery was in 
 a blaze. Seeing the conflagration, all the inmates 
 were lost in consternation. Shouting "Fire! 
 Fire ! " some of them ran to draw water from the 
 
 86 
 
well, while others threw sand on the flames, and 
 in the excitement and general confusion which 
 followed, Benkei, the cause of the calamity, was Tjn 
 forgotten. ^^ 
 
 In the midst of the tremendous tumult and dis- 
 turbance Benkei laughed quietly to himself. 
 
 " Ha! ha ! " he laughed ; " look at the fire and 
 the stir I have made ! I have never seen the lazy 
 bonzes know what it is to hurry before. It will do 
 them good for once in a way ! " 
 
 Then he slipped away from the temple and made 
 his way back to Kyoto. 
 
 Benkei, wild and unruly as he was, cannot be 
 judged by the standard of conduct of to-day. Those 
 times were very different from these days of peace 
 and order. Young men . were encouraged to do 
 rough violent deeds to show their strength and 
 courage, and if they killed their antagonists in the 
 fight, so much the more did this redound to their 
 credit. It was the custom for a young samurai on 
 obtaining a sword to go out into the highways to 
 try the mettle of his blade. Woe to those who 
 passed by; their blood must baptize the knight's 
 sword. This training bred a martial spirit in the 
 youth of Japan, and produced brave men of daunt- 
 less courage and resolution like Benkei, who be- 
 came such a hero in after-life. 
 
 Benkei was, however, by this time tired of study 
 and of living the dull life of a bonze, and he now 
 
 87 
 

 made up his mind to rove about in search of 
 adventures, determining that, should he find a 
 stronger man than himself, he would become that 
 man's vassal, turn from his wild ways and lead 
 the life of a good samurai, faithful to his lord and 
 a good patriot to his country. But first of all he 
 must find the man stronger than he to whom he 
 would bow his proud strong neck. He longed now 
 to find a master worthy of respect, whom he could 
 reverence as his superior. How was this to be 
 done ? At last an idea struck him. He had deter- 
 mined to be a soldier and enter the service of a 
 samurai ; he must therefore get a good sword. 
 Violent and impetuous as ever, to this end he now 
 vowed to take a thousand swords from the citizens 
 of Kyoto. To carry out his wild scheme he went 
 nightly to the Gojo Bridge, and when men passed 
 along bearing swords in their girdles he would 
 rush suddenly out, attack them furiously, and 
 snatch away their swords. He never pursued those 
 who ran away, for he deemed them cowards and 
 would not waste his time or strength on such crea- 
 tures; but those who opposed him he would mow 
 down with a single sweep of his great halberd. In 
 this way he had attacked nine hundred and ninety- 
 nine men and taken away nine hundred and ninety- 
 nine swords ; each time he had hoped to meet his 
 match in the numerous contests, but not one 
 among the whole number proved a serious foe. 
 88 
 
Accordingly the swords Benkei had thus col- 
 lected were all poor weapons, for weak men have 
 like swords ; they were blunt and badly tempered [jO 
 and of not the slightest use to him. He was heartily 
 disappointed, and began to think that perhaps he 
 had better abandon the enterprise as a vain one. 
 In desperation, however, he determined to get 
 one more sword and thus complete the total of one 
 thousand blades, the number he had first of all set 
 his mind upon. In spite of discouragement, he 
 told himself that it would be stupid to give up at 
 this point. 
 
 As soon as he had decided to do this, his spirits 
 revived, and for some unaccountable reason he 
 felt that this time he would be lucky, and able to 
 secure once for all a good weapon. He waited im- 
 patiently for the evening, and as soon as the twi- 
 light fell he made his preparations and went as 
 usual to the Gojo Bridge. It happened to be the 
 night of the fifteenth day of August, and the 
 beautiful harvest moon sailed up into the sereiie 
 heaven, above the hills and the tall dark velvety 
 pines and cryptomerias, and the sleeping world 
 was bathed in her soft silvery brilliance. For a 
 long time Benkei stood leaning against the para- 
 pet of the bridge, entranced by the fair scene 
 spread out before him in the moonlight and appar- 
 ently quite forgetful for the time being of his 
 purpose. Suddenly the stillness of the beautiful 
 
 89 
 
fl 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 night was broken by the sound of a flute. Benkei 
 started from his reverie. The music drew nearer 
 and nearer, and then he saw a slight figure ap- 
 proaching from the other end of the bridge. The 
 newcomer wore a kind of white veil and high black- 
 lacquered clogs, and was playing on his flute as he 
 strolled along. Benkei watched the approaching 
 stranger and saw at once that this was no ordinary 
 passer-by. 
 
 At first he thought that this must be a woman, 
 for the moonlight revealed a slender grace in walk- 
 ing and then on nearer view a face of extreme 
 youth and aristocratic beauty. He could not find 
 the heart to attack the mysterious and gentle un- 
 known, and decided to let him or her pass unmo- 
 lested ; but while he was wondering who the per- 
 son, so unlike all the others he had met on the 
 bridge, could be, the supposed lady all of a sudden 
 stepped up to Benkei and kicked the latter's hal- 
 berd out of his hand. 
 
 "What are you doing.?" shouted Benkei, in a 
 rage when he had recovered from his astonishment ; 
 and recovering his halberd he pulled off what he 
 supposed to be the lady's veil. To his surprise he 
 found that the adventurous stranger was a hand- 
 some youth who might easily be mistaken for a 
 girl, and then Benkei's eyes fell upon a splendid 
 gold-mounted sword which the lad carried in his 
 girdle. He said to himself that he had not waited 
 
 90 
 
so long in vain, that he was verily in luck this 
 night to have such a bird come into net. While 
 these thoughts flashed through his mind, Ben- TJH 
 kei clutched at the sword, but the youth was ^^ 
 far stronger than he looked, and the instant Ben- 
 kei put forth his hand the young fellow flung a 
 heavy fan in his face, saying : " How brave you 
 think yourself, don't you ? " and darted out of his 
 reach. 
 
 This made Benkei more angry than ever, and 
 with threatening exclamations he lifted his halberd 
 to deal a smashing blow on the young knight. 
 But the lad was far too quick for Benkei and sprang 
 about with the nimbleness of a monkey, and no 
 matter how Benkei aimed his blows, they never 
 reached the mark. Never had Benkei seen such 
 agility and adroitness. Sometimes the youth ap- 
 peared in front and sometimes behind, now on one 
 side and again on the other, and as often as Benkei 
 turned he would find that his opponent had shifted 
 his position like lightning. At length Benkei grew 
 tired and a sense of awe began to take hold of his 
 mind, for he now felt that the youth must be a 
 supernatural being, or a tengu, and no common 
 mortal, and this feeling grew upon him so strongly 
 that he began to lose heart. He knew now that 
 he was no longer invincible as he had hitherto 
 been. Then the lad, who had hitherto acted on the 
 defensive, began to push his advantage, and, at- 
 
 91 
 

 tacking Benkei in good earnest, beat down the 
 latter's guard and disarmed him. 
 
 When the redoubtable Benkei, who had never 
 yet been beaten by any one in his whole life, found 
 himself thus ignominiously defeated, he was aston- 
 ished beyond words, and there and then, kneeling 
 down on the bridge, bowed low before the young 
 man and humbly said : " Will you condescend to 
 tell me whose son you are, and your name? 
 Something tells me that you are no common 
 man ! " 
 
 The handsome youth laughed and replied : " I 
 am the eighth and youngest son of Minamoto 
 Yoshitomo, and my name is Minamoto Ushiwaka," 
 and with these words he allowed Benkei tq rise. 
 
 "What do I hear.?" exclaimed Benkei; "are 
 you indeed the young knight Minamoto Ushi- 
 waka, of whom I have heard so much ? I felt from 
 the first that you were a person of distinction. As 
 for myself, I am simply Musashi Bo Benkei. For 
 a long time I have been looking for a man 
 stronger than myself, to whom I could look up 
 as my master. I have led a wild life for a long 
 time, but if you will take me into your service I 
 will be a good and faithful vassal." 
 
 Ushiwaka, who had heard of Benkei's remark- 
 able strength, and who had come out that night to 
 the Gojo Bridge for the purpose of meeting the 
 notorious man with the hope of winning him to 
 92 
 
his side, was delighted at the turn events had 
 taken and promised to take Benkei into his serv- 
 ice, and in this way the brave youth and the giant pXl 
 priest became associated as lord and vassal. 
 
 From this hour Benkei was a completely 
 changed character. He gave up his wild ways and 
 became obedient to his young master, who was 
 the only one he had found a match for his impos- 
 ing strength and will. He served his new lord 
 with the utmost devotion, and fought bravely in 
 every battle which Yoshitsune (Ushiwaka's name 
 when he came of age) waged against the Taira 
 clan at the famous battles of Ichi-no-tani and Dan- 
 no-Ura, of which you will have read in the story of 
 Yoshitsune. 
 
 Yoshitsune won victory after victory, driving 
 his Taira enemies to the sea, where they misera- 
 bly perished at Dan-no-Ura, and it seemed to the 
 wondering people that he must be the impersona- 
 tion of Hachiman, the God of War. 
 
 So handsome and brave was he that they had 
 never seen or heard of his like before, and through- 
 out Japan every one praised and loved him. Now 
 Yoritomo, when he saw his brother's popularity, 
 became jealous, and Kajiwara^ one of his generals, 
 who hated Yoshitsune because the young knight 
 had once openly reproved him for cowardice, 
 seized the opportunity to poison Yoritomo's mind 
 against his younger brother; he suggested that 
 
 93 
 
3 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 Yoshitsune's aim was to supplant Yoritomo in su- 
 preme authority. Sad to say, Yoritomo believed 
 this wicked slander. Therefore, when Yoshitsune, 
 covered with glory and honour, returned from the 
 wars, bringing with him, as prisoners of war, 
 Munemori, the Taira chieftain, and his son (Kiyo- 
 mori was now dead), he found that Yoritomo had 
 erected a barrier near Koshigoe, just outside Ka- 
 makura. Here he sent a guard to receive the 
 prisoners, but on the ground that Yoshitsune was 
 guilty of treachery, Yoritomo refused him admit- 
 tance into Kamakura. In vain did Yoshitsune pro- 
 test against the unjust accusation ; in vain did he 
 write a touching letter avowing his- unaltered love 
 and devotion to Yoritomo; in vain did he re- 
 count all the hardships endured on the campaigns 
 which the young and chivalrous general had un- 
 dertaken at the command of his brother. He was 
 not believed, and ingratitude was the only reward 
 he received for devotion to his brother's cause. 
 At this crisis Yoshitsune found himself banished 
 and every part of Japan rendered unsafe for his 
 residence, for Yoritomo ordered him to be arrested. 
 When this time of trouble came, Benkei was in- 
 defatigable in his efforts to guard Yoshitsune's 
 person from danger. He followed him in his flight 
 and exile and never left his master's side. 
 
 Yoshitsune now returned to Kyoto for a time. 
 Soon after he arrived there Yoritomo sent a man 
 
 94 
 
named Tosabo to compass his death. This man, 
 like Benkei, had formerly been a bonze, and he 
 gave out that he had come to visit the temples of Tjn 
 the capital. *~^ 
 
 Tosabo knew very well what a shrewd and clever 
 warrior Yoshitsune was, and he doubted his own 
 ability to cope with the task he had undertaken. 
 He therefore decided that he would wait until 
 Yoshitsune was completely off his guard, and then 
 make a sudden attack upon the house where he 
 was staying. He told his followers of his plan and 
 secretly prepared for the raid. 
 
 Yoshitsune soon learned of Tosabo's coming, 
 for the people of Kyoto and its neighbourhood, 
 where he had lived as a boy, were devoted to him. 
 The young general, knowing that Tosabo was in 
 Yoritomo's service, regarded him with suspicion. 
 He told Benkei of his fears, and Benkei at once 
 volunteered to go and summon Tosabo to the 
 house and question him. 
 
 Yoshitsune agreed to the plan, and Benkei im- 
 mediately set off for Tosabo's house. 
 
 "Now, Tosabo," said he, "my Lord Yoshitsune 
 desires to see you, so you are to come back with 
 me at once ! " 
 
 Benkei's manner was so fierce and determined 
 that Tosabo felt alarmed and he therefore pre- 
 tended to be ill ; but Benkei was not to be balked 
 in that stupid way, and shouting : " If you are not 
 
 95 
 

 quick, I'll seize you and take you whether you will 
 or not ! " he grabbed Tosabo by his girdle and lifted 
 him lip as if he had been a child, tucked him under 
 one arm, and, mounting his horse, carried him off. 
 
 There were several of Tosabo' s retainers present 
 at the interview, but they were all trembUng with 
 fear and did not dare to put forth a hand to help 
 their master. 
 
 Benkei thus conducted Tosabo into the presence 
 of Yoshitsune by force, and both master and vassal 
 began to examine him strictly; but Tosabo was 
 such an audacious rascal that, notwithstanding the 
 fact that he had actually come from Yoritomo, 
 hired as an assassin, he refused to confess any- 
 thing. With great humility he feigned surprise at 
 being suspected of entertaining designs against 
 Yoshitsune's life, saying that he was but a poor 
 bonze in Yoritomo's service, and as Yoshitsune 
 was his master's brother, he (Tosabo) regarded him 
 as his lord also. Nothing else but a religious fast 
 and retreat had called him to Kyoto! 
 
 Now Yoshitsune and Benkei had no actual proof 
 of his guilt, so they allowed Tosabo to go free, 
 first making him sign a document declaring that he 
 was not a hired assassin. In truth neither of them 
 believed the crafty man, but thought him too 
 despicable an enemy to fear, and made up their 
 minds that, if he and his gang planned a night as- 
 sault, the party could be easily repulsed and put to 
 
 96 
 
flight. Tosabo on his part congratulated himself 
 on his cleverness, returned home, armed his men, 
 and made an attack on Yoshitsune's residence. 
 
 Yoshitsune that night, thinking that at any rate 
 for some time he was quite safe from attack, made 
 merry with all his men. Drinking amber-coloured 
 wine they sat up late, and when at last the young 
 general retired to rest, having drunk much he slept 
 a deep sleep. His beautiful young wife Shizuka, 
 who accompanied him in all his wanderings, fearing 
 she knew not what, that night alone kept watch 
 beside her lord's couch. She was the first to hear 
 the approach of Tosabo and his soldiers. Vainly 
 she tried to rouse Yoshitsune ; she called him, she 
 shook him, but all in vain, — he slept on. Shizuka 
 was frantic. She heard the enemy at the gate try- 
 ing to batter it down. Suddenly the thought struck 
 her, as if by inspiration, that the most thrilling call 
 to arms to a warrior must be the sound of his ar- 
 mour. She rushed to the box in the hall, and heavy 
 as it was for her slender strength, she lifted out the 
 armour. She dragged it quickly into the room. 
 Then over Yoshitsune's head she waved it to and 
 fro. " Clang — clang," sounded the armour, "clang 
 — clang." Up sprang the warrior, seized the suit 
 of armour, and with Shizuka's help dressed him- 
 self for battle. All this took place without a single 
 word. Benkei and the rest of his soldiers soon 
 joined him and the enemy were put to flight. To- 
 
 97 
 
 113 
 

 sabo managed to escape and hide himself in the 
 mountains of Kurama, near Kyoto, but he was 
 caught and put to death at last. 
 
 To have been able to thwart and punish the as- 
 sassins from Kamakura was a source of great sat- 
 isfaction to Yoshitsune and his men; but when the 
 story reached Yoritomo he was very wroth, and is- 
 sued another decree entirely disowning Yoshitsune 
 and declaring him an enemy to the state. 
 
 Yoshitsune felt that Yoritomo was acting most 
 unjustly towards him, for he knew himself to be 
 entirely blameless of plotting against Yoritomo's 
 supremacy ; but as it was useless to contend against 
 his elder brother, who as Shogun was the military 
 ruler of Japan, he decided to leave Kyoto and es- 
 cape to some other place. He therefore planned to 
 cross from the province of Settsu to Saikoku in a 
 ship ; but when they reached Dan-no-Ura, where 
 Yoshitsune had finally conquered and all but ex- 
 terminated the Taira clan, the fine weather they 
 had hitherto experienced suddenly changed, the 
 sky became overcast with black clouds, rain began 
 to fall in torrents, the wind began to blow, and 
 gradually the waves rose higher and higher, and 
 shipwreck became imminent. As the darkness 
 deepened about them, though they could see no- 
 thing, over the water there came weird sounds of 
 the din of battle, the rushing of ships through the 
 sea, the shouting and trampling of men, the whiz- 
 
 98 
 
Eh 
 < 
 O 
 pq 
 
 a 
 
 H 
 
 o 
 
 H 
 
 0^ 
 W 
 P< 
 <! 
 
 a 
 
 o 
 
 s 
 
 s 
 o 
 
 H 
 
 <! 
 X 
 
 CL, 
 !^ 
 
 S 
 
 H 
 
zing of arrows in the air ; all around them as the 
 ship sped on, the tumult of the fight grew louder, 
 till Yoshitsune felt that he was living again through VfU 
 that awful and never-to-be-forgotten battle. 
 
 Then from amid the roUing waves, which every 
 moment threatened to engulf the boat, arose pale, 
 ghastly forms whose wan faces were terrible to 
 see. Clad in blood-stained, battle-torn armour and 
 ravaged with gaping wounds, these warrior ghosts 
 raised threatening hands, as if to stop the progress 
 of the boat, while moanings of despair and hollow 
 sobs and shrieks burst from the spectre army. 
 Among the foremost figures was one who brand- 
 ished a huge halberd, and as he approached, he 
 addressed Yoshitsune, saying: "Aha! Revenge! 
 Revenge ! Behold in me the ghost of Taira-no- 
 Tomomori, general of the Taira clan, ruthlessly 
 destroyed by you ! Long have I waited here for you 
 and now I will slay you all, for not until then will 
 the slaughtered Taira rest in their watery graves." 
 
 Through the tossing, whirling waters, with the 
 wind shrieking round them, and a weird blue 
 phosphoric light making everything visible, the 
 phantom host drew nearer and nearer to the boat. 
 But Yoshitsune did not seem to be in the least 
 alarmed. As dauntless as ever, he stood up in the 
 prow and faced the ghosts of the men whom he 
 had slain in that terrible battle, and flashing forth 
 his keen blade, said : " So you are the spirits of 
 
 99 
 
a 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 the Taira clan, are you ? And you have risen from 
 the ocean-bed to haunt us, and to impede our 
 progress, and to inflict evil upon us ? Have you 
 forgotten how I drove you before me as dust be- 
 fore the wind when you were alive ? It is a pity 
 you have not profited by past experiences ! I should 
 have thought that you would have had no wish to 
 see me again ! " 
 
 With these words he was about to brandish his 
 sword and attack the spectres, but Benkei, the 
 wise and faithful Benkei, stepped up to his young 
 master and stayed his hand, saying : " Not so, my 
 lord. Swords are useless against ghosts. It is not 
 wise to anger these poor earth-bound phantoms. 
 The best way of dealing with them is to pacify 
 them, so that they may find peace and go to their 
 own place." 
 
 Yoshitsune yielded to Benkei and allowed him- 
 self to be put aside. Then Benkei, who, you will re- 
 member, had formerly been a Buddhist priest, drew 
 out a small rosary which he always carried with 
 him, and telling his beads, and rubbing his hands 
 together, palm to palm, began to recite prayers 
 earnestly and reverently in a loud voice. The sa- 
 cred words appointed by the Buddhist Church fell 
 like a benediction upon the angry spirits, the wail- 
 ing and the howling and the tumult of the phantom 
 conflict ceased, and the wraiths gradually vanished 
 into the sea from whence they had arisen ; the storm 
 
 lOO 
 
ceased, and the weather cleared and became as 
 fine and peaceful as it was before, and the travel- 
 lers soon reached the land in safety. Hfl 
 
 Across the mountains Yoshitsune now fled, and 
 after endless adventures and hairbreadth escapes, 
 he determined to seek the help of his old friend 
 and partisan, the General Hidehira, in the province 
 of Oshu. On the way thither they came to a 
 guard-house at Ataka, in Kaga Province. This 
 guard-house was one of the principal frontier sta- 
 tions at which in those feudal times all travellers 
 had to give an account of themselves. Yoritomo 
 had by this time issued a proclamation ordering 
 the arrest of Yoshitsune, so the young general and 
 Benkei and the handful of faithful men still left to 
 him disguised themselves as wandering priests, 
 wearing loose caps on their heads, carrying wallets 
 on their backs, and grasping pilgrim staves in their 
 hands. Yoshitsune himself was disguised as a 
 goriki, or coolie, attendant on the priests. They 
 travelled slowly until they came to the barrier, con- 
 sulting together as to how they should pass it, for 
 they heard that the sentries suspected every one 
 and were examining passers-by very strictly. Only 
 the previous day three mendicants had been killed, 
 owing to the suspicion of the guards having been 
 excited. 
 
 All Yoshitsune's followers, among whom were 
 many brave, loyal, though headstrong young fel- 
 
 lOI 
 
fl 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 lows, wanted to storm the guard-house and cut 
 their way through the soldiers, but Benkei was 
 strongly opposed to this and said : " No, no, that 
 will never do ! A quarrel would cost some of our 
 lives, and we have few enough as it is. Leave the 
 matter to me to manage and 1 11 get you through." 
 
 No one ever gainsaid Benkei, when he spoke 
 with authority like that, for they all knew what a 
 mountain of strength and resource he was in time 
 of need. So Benkei, as ever, had his way. He dis- 
 guised Yoshitsune in the dress of a servant {goriki), 
 and gave him a deep broad-brimmed hat of bamboo 
 to wear, and made him tuck up his robe into his 
 belt ; then, advancing in front of the others, he 
 leisurely approached the guard-house, and with an 
 air of the utmost unconcern and nonchalance said : 
 "We are mendicant priests who are travelling 
 throughout the various provinces for the purpose 
 of soliciting subscriptions for the rebuilding of the 
 shrine of the Great Buddha at the Todaiji Temple, 
 in Nara. We ask permission to pass the barrier." 
 
 Now the captain of the guard was a very clever 
 man and a strict observer of rules, and he would 
 not let Benkei pass without questioning him 
 thoroughly. 
 
 "Well, as you say you are visiting the various 
 provinces soliciting subscriptions for the purpose 
 of rebuilding the Shrine of the Great Buddha, it 
 is possible that I may allow you to pass, but you 
 
 1 02 
 
must show me positive proof of the truth of your 
 story,'' said the captain of the guard. 
 
 Benkei was staggered for a morhent when he [JH 
 heard these words. What should he do ? But he ^^ 
 was a quick-witted man, and without betraying any 
 sign of being taken by surprise, he answered with 
 composure : " Very good, then, I will read you my 
 commission written by the High Priest himself in 
 the first pages of the subscription-book." 
 
 With these words, speculating upon the igno- 
 rance of the guard, with great dignity he drew out 
 a scroll, and pressing it with reverence to his fore- 
 head, began to improvise and read out an imagin- 
 ary letter from the High Priest of the Todaiji 
 Temple for the rebuilding of a shrine for the Dai- 
 butsu, at Nara. At the first mention of the name 
 of the priest, so famous and so highly revered 
 throughout the country, the captain of the guard, 
 it is said, fell respectfully upon his knees and list- 
 ened, face bent to the earth in humble awe, to the 
 contents of the letter. So well did Benkei play his 
 part that the sentry was convinced of the genuine 
 character of the commission and said : " I am sat- 
 isfied. There is no reason to detain you. You may 
 pass ! " 
 
 Benkei was overjoyed, and thought that at 
 length all difficulties had been overcome. At the 
 head of the fugitive band, with Yoshitsune dis- 
 guised as an attendant in the rear, he was moving 
 
 103 
 

 forward to pass through the barrier when the 
 captain suddenly darted forward and stopped 
 Yoshitsune, saying in a loud voice : " Wait a mo- 
 ment, you coolie ! Wait a moment ! " 
 
 " We are discovered," thought Benkei ; and even 
 he, dauntless and cool in the face of all danger 
 hitherto, felt his heart beating violently in the in- 
 tense excitement of this momentous crisis. 
 
 But it was no time for hesitation, and recogniz- 
 ing that the whole situation hung upon that very 
 moment, Benkei, with his usual pluck and daring, 
 pulled himself together and coolly asked : " Have 
 you anything to say to this coolie whom you have 
 stopped?" 
 
 "Of course I have, and that is why I have 
 stopped him," replied the sentry. 
 
 " And may I ask what your business with him 
 is?" inquired Benkei. 
 
 "This coolie," answered the captain, "is said 
 by my soldiers to resemble Lord Yoshitsune, and 
 I stopped him so that I might examine him." 
 
 " What ! " shouted Benkei, pretending to be 
 overcome with laughter at the idea, " this coolie 
 resembles Lord Yoshitsune ? Ha! ha! ha! Oh, this 
 is indeed too comical for anything! I wondered 
 why you arrested him, but never thought of his 
 being stopped for such an absurd reason. But as 
 a matter of fact he has been mistaken for Lord 
 Yoshitsune over and over again by several people, 
 
 104 
 
and you are by no means the only one who has 
 had his suspicions aroused. You see the fellow is 
 handsome and has a very white skin like an aris- |m 
 tocrat, and that's all the good there is about him, 
 but on that account I have had an immense amount 
 of trouble with him." 
 
 Then Benkei turned to Yoshitsune, saying: 
 " Wretched creature ! it is all your fault that we 
 come under suspicion all the time. You shuffle 
 along in such a cowardly manner and put on such 
 strange airs that people naturally suspect you. 
 In future be more careful, and walk along like a 
 man and not in such a mincing way, you fool ! " 
 
 Thus Benkei feigned to lose his temper, and 
 after scolding Yoshitsune roughly, finally lifted his 
 staff and gave him several blows across the back, 
 telling him to fall upon his knees and not presume 
 to remain standing in the presence of the guard. 
 
 The captain of the guard had been watching 
 this scene for some moments, and when he saw 
 Benkei start in and thrash Yoshitsune, his doubts 
 were completely allayed; for he thought that if 
 the apparent servant were really Yoshitsune and 
 the mendicant priest the latter' s retainer, the 
 vassal would never dare to assault his master in 
 this fashion. 
 
 "Ah! it was my fault and carelessness. Evi- 
 dently- it was an entire mistake on our part to 
 think this coolie was Lord Yoshitsune, and it is 
 
 105 
 

 not the poor fellow's fault, so pray do not beat him 
 any more ! Continue your journey at once and 
 take him with you." 
 
 Benkei's trick thus succeeded completely. The 
 captain reentered the guard-house and the young 
 lord and his vassals passed at last unhindered 
 through the strictly guarded gate, saved as ever 
 by the quick-wittedness of Benkei. 
 
 Now some say that the captain of the guard 
 was not deceived ; that he knew that the disguised 
 priests and attendant were Yoshitsune and his 
 party, but his whole sympathy was with the 
 hunted hero and his brave few and he allowed 
 them to pass. For a samurai must ever show 
 mercy and sympathy, especially to his fellows and 
 to those in distress. The strict examination he 
 insisted upon was a farce he played to satisfy 
 the authorities at Kamakura. 
 
 Yoshitsune and his followers were filled with 
 admiration at the wisdom of Benkei, and great 
 were the praise and thanks they rendered him on 
 this occasion; but Benkei, full of reverence and 
 devotion to his master, never ceased to deplore 
 the necessity which drove him to beat his own 
 lord and apologized with great humility. When- 
 ever the story was told, he would shed tears of 
 sorrow and declare that he would rather have been 
 beaten to death himself than have been obliged by 
 circumstances to sirike Yoshitsune. 
 
 1 06 
 
Thus once by force of arms he put to flight the 
 would-be assassins of Yoshitsune at Kyoto; by 
 reciting Buddhist prayers he laid the ghosts of the Hfl 
 Taira warriors in the sea at Dan-no-Ura ; and by ^"^ 
 sheer wit and sagacity he brought his party across 
 the dangerous frontier ; and at length he managed 
 to arrive safely with his beloved master at the 
 Oshu residence of the famous General Hidehira. 
 
 He now thought that all troubles were over; 
 but unfortunately this story soon reached Kama- 
 kura City, and Yoritomo, furious at Yoshitsune's 
 daring, despatched a large army to chastise him. 
 
 At this time Yoshitsune's camp was pitched be- 
 side the river Koromo, and the army from Kama- 
 kura, swarming up in countless thousands on the 
 opposite bank, discharged volley after volley of ar- 
 rows at the brave but ill-fated band. Yoshitsune's 
 handful of men were entirely unable to face the 
 overwhelming numbers, and fled in confusion, seek- 
 ing shelter in the neighbouring woods and valleys 
 or hiding themselves in the mountains. But Ben- 
 kei, despising flight, refused to budge, and stood 
 without moving while showers of arrows fell like 
 rain around him. At length the enemy saw that 
 Benkei stood immovable with his seven weapons 
 on his back, grasping his great halberd in both 
 hands. Wondering at the sight, they drew near 
 for the purpose of solving the mystery. As they 
 approached, the giant still remained standing ; not 
 
 107 
 
a 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 an eyelid flinched, as his eyes, wide open, glared 
 fiercely at the soldiers. No wonder that the giant 
 did not stir, for arrows were sticking all over his 
 body like quills on a porcupine, and it was evident 
 that he had died standing with his face to the 
 enemy. 
 
 This story is known far and wide throughout 
 Japan, and you can imagine what a brave sturdy 
 warrior he must have been to have died in this 
 way, fighting to the last. 
 
 Another story tells how the enemy came up to 
 the wonderful figure of Benkei and found it to be 
 but a straw dummy, and that by this device Benkei 
 gained time for his beloved lord, with whom he 
 escaped into the North, leaving their enemies far 
 behind. Such is the story of Benkei, and the story 
 does not end here ; for tradition relates with much 
 circumstance, as traditions always do, that Benkei's 
 master became the conqueror of Northern Asia, 
 known to after ages as the famous Genghis Khan. 
 
DIED STANDING WITH HIS FACE TO THK ENEMY 
 
THE GOBLIN OF OYEYAMA 
 
THE GOBLIN OF OYEYAMA 
 
 LONG, long ago in Old Japan, in the reign of 
 the Emperor Ichijo, the sixty-sixth Emperor, 
 there lived a very brave general called Minamoto- 
 no-Raiko. Minamoto was the name of the powerful 
 clan to which he belonged, and in England it would 
 be called his surname, and Raiko, or Yorimitsu," 
 was his own name. 
 
 In those times it was the custom for generals 
 to keep as a body-guard four picked knights re- 
 nowned for their daring spirit, their great strength, 
 and their skill in wielding the sword. These four 
 braves were called Shitenno, or Four Kings of 
 Heaven, and they participated in all the exploits 
 and martial expeditions of their chief, and vied 
 with one another in excelling in bravery and dex- 
 terity. 
 
 Minamoto-no-Raiko was no exception to the 
 general rule of those ancient leadeirs of Japan, 
 and he had under him Usui-Sadamitsu, Sakata 
 
 ' Raiko, or Yorimitsu. Both names are written with the same 
 ideographs. Raiko is the Chinese pronunciation, and Yorimitsu 
 the Japanese rendering. 
 
 Ill 
 
a 
 
 ^ 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 Kintoki, Urabe Suetake,, and Watanabe Tsuna 
 (the clan or surname comes first in Japan). Search 
 the wide world from north to south and from east 
 to west, and no braver warriors than the Shitermo 
 of Minamoto-no-Raiko could you find. Each one of 
 the four was said to be a match single-handed for 
 a thousand men. They lived for adventure, and 
 their delight was in war. 
 
 Now it happened about this time that Kyoto, 
 the capital, was ringing with the stories of the 
 doings of a frightful demon that lived in the fast- 
 nesses of a high mountain called Mount Oye, in 
 the province of Tamba. This goblin or demon's 
 name was Shutendoji. To look upon the creature 
 was a horrible thing, and those who once caught 
 sight of him never forgot the sight to their dying 
 day. He sometimes took upon him the form of a 
 human being, and leaving his den would steal into 
 the capital and haunt the streets and carry off pre- 
 cious sons and beloved daughters of the Kyoto 
 homes. Having seized these treasures and flowers 
 of the people, he would drag them to his castle in 
 the wilds of Mount Oye, and there he would 
 make them work and wait upon him till he was 
 ready to devour them, then he would tear them 
 limb from limb. 
 
 For a long time the flower of the youth of the 
 capital had been kidnapped in this way ; many 
 homes had been made desolate. For a long, long 
 
 112 
 
time no one had the least idea of what happened to 
 the sons and daughters thus stolen, but at the period 
 when this story begins, the dread news of the canni- -fj 
 bal Shutendoji and his mountain den began to be 
 noised abroad. 
 
 Now at the Court there was an official, Knight 
 Kimitaka by name, who was thrice happy in the 
 possession of a beautiful daughter. She was his 
 only child, and upon her he and his wife doted. 
 One day the darling of the family disappeared, 
 and no trace whatsoever of the beautiful girl 
 could be found. The household was plunged into 
 the deepest grief and misery. The mother at last 
 determined to consult a soothsayer, and, bidding 
 an attendant follow her, she repaired to the house 
 of a famous fortune-teller and diviner, who re- 
 vealed to her that her daughter had been stolen 
 away by the goblin of Mount Oye. The mother 
 hastened home terror-stricken, and the father, 
 when he was told the dire news, was dumb with 
 grief. He gave up going on duty at the Palace, 
 for he was so broken-hearted that he could do 
 nothing but weep night and day over the loss of 
 his only daughter. To lose her was bad enough, 
 but the thought of the horrible hands into which 
 she had fallen was unendurable, and all who loved 
 the poor child, even her own father, were power- 
 less to save her. Oh ! the bitter, bitter grief ! 
 
 At last the Emperor heard of the sorrow that 
 
 "3 
 

 had overtaken Kimitaka, and his wrath was great 
 to think that the hateful goblin had dared to en- 
 ter the precincts of the sacred capital without per- 
 mission, and had dared to steal away his subjects 
 in this manner. And in his royal indignation he 
 sprang to his feet and threw down his tasselled 
 fan and cried aloud : " Is there no one in my do- 
 mains who will punish this goblin and destroy him 
 utterly, and avenge the wrongs he has done my 
 people and this city, and so set my heart at ease ? " 
 
 Then the Emperor called his Council together, 
 and put the matter before them and asked them 
 what it were best to do, for the city must at all 
 costs be rid of this terrible scourge. 
 
 "How dare he haunt my dominions and lay 
 hands on my people in the very precincts of my 
 Palace .? " cried the distressed Emperor. 
 
 Then the Ministers respectfully answered the 
 Emperor and said : " There are numbers of brave 
 warriors in Your Majesty's realm, but there are 
 none so able to do your bidding as Minamoto-no- 
 Raiko. We would humbly advise our August 
 Emperor, the Son of Heaven, to send for the 
 knight and command him to slay the demon. Our 
 poor counsel may not find favour in the Son of 
 Heaven's sight, but at the present moment we can 
 think of nothing else to suggest ! " 
 
 This advice pleased the Emperor Ichijo, and he 
 answered that he had often heard of Raiko as a 
 
 114 
 
valiant knight and true, who knew not what fear 
 was, and he had no doubt that, as his Ministers 
 said, he was just the man for the adventure. And ^T 
 so the Emperor summoned Raiko to the Palace at 
 once. 
 
 The warrior, on receiving the royal and unex- 
 pected summons, hastened to the Palace, wonder- 
 ing what it could mean. When he was told what 
 was wanted of him, he prostrated himself before 
 the throne in humble acquiescence to the royal 
 command. Indeed Raiko was right glad at the 
 thought of the adventure in store for him, for it 
 had been quiet for some time in Kyoto, and he 
 and his braves had chafed at the enforced idleness. 
 The more he realized the awful difficulty of his 
 task, the higher his courage and his spirits rose 
 to face it and the more he determined to do it or 
 die in the attempt. 
 
 He went home and thought out a plan of action. 
 As the enemy was no human being, but a formid- 
 able goblin, he thought that the wisest course would 
 be to resort to stratagem instead of an open en- 
 counter, so he decided to take with him a few of 
 his most trusted men rather than a great num- 
 ber of soldiers. He then called together his f6ur 
 braves, Kintoki, Sadamitsu, Suetake,. and Tsuna, 
 and besides these another knight, by name Hirai 
 Yasumasa, nicknamed Hitori, which meant, as 
 applied to him, " the only warrior." 
 
 115 
 

 Raiko told them of the expedition, and explained 
 that, as the demon was no common foe, he thought 
 it wise that they should go to his mountain in 
 disguise ; in this way they would the more likely 
 and the more easily overcome the goblin. They 
 all agreed to what their chief said and set about 
 making their preparations with great joy. They 
 polished up their armour and sharpened their long 
 swords and tried on their helmets, rejoicing in the 
 prospect of the action confronting them. Before 
 starting on this dangerous enterprise, they thought 
 it wise to seek the protection and blessing of the 
 gods, so Raiko and Yasumasa went to pray for 
 help at the Temple of Hachiman, the God of War, 
 at Mount O toko, while Tsuna and Kintoki went 
 to the Sumiyoshi Shrine of the Goddess of Mercy, 
 and Sadamitsu and Suetake to the Temple of 
 Gongen at Kumano. At each shrine the six knights 
 offered up the same prayer for divine help and 
 strength, and on bended knees and with hands 
 laid palm to palm they besought the gods to grant 
 them success in their expedition and a safe return 
 to the capital. 
 
 Then the brave band disguised themselves as 
 mountain priests. They wore priests' caps and 
 sacerdotal garments and stoles; they hid their 
 armour and their helmets and their weapons in 
 the knapsacks they carried on their backs ; in their 
 right hands they carried a pilgrim's staff, and in 
 
 ii6 
 
m 
 
 their left a rosary, and they wore rough straw 
 sandals on their feet. No one meeting these digni- 
 fied, solemn-looking priests would have thought ^C" 
 that they were on the way to attack the goblin of 
 Mount Oye, and no one would have dreamt that 
 the leader of the band was the warrior Raiko, who 
 for courage and strength had not his peer in the 
 whole of the Island Empire. 
 
 In this way Raiko and his men travelled across 
 the country till at last they reached the province 
 of Tamba and came to the foot of the mountain 
 of Oye. Now as the goblin had chosen Mount 
 Oye as his place of abode, you can imagine how 
 difficult of access it was ! Raiko and his men had 
 often travelled in mountainous districts, but they 
 had never experienced anything like the steepness 
 of Mount Oye. It was indescribable. Great rocks 
 obstructed the way, and the branches of the trees 
 were so thickly interlaced overhead that the light 
 of day could not penetrate through the foliage 
 even at midday, and the shadows were so black 
 that the warriors would have been glad of lanterns. 
 Sometimes the path led them over precipices where 
 they could hear the water rushing along the deep 
 ravines beneath. So deep were these chasms that 
 as Raiko and his men passed them they were over- 
 come with giddiness. For the first time they real- 
 ized now the dangers and difficulties of the task 
 they had undertaken, and they were somewhat 
 
 117 
 

 disheartened. At times they rested themselves on 
 the roots of trees to gain breath, sometimes they 
 stopped to quench their thirst at some trickling 
 spring, catching the water up in their hands. They 
 did not, however, allow themselves to be discour- 
 aged long, but pushed their way deeper and deeper 
 into the mountain, encouraging each other with 
 brave words of cheer when they felt their spirits 
 flagging. But the thought sometimes crossed their 
 minds, though they one and all kept it to them- 
 selves, " What if Shutendoji, or some of his demons, 
 should be lurking behind any of the rocks or 
 cliffs?" 
 
 Suddenly from behind a rock three old men ap- 
 peared. Now Raiko, who was as wise as he was 
 brave, and who at that very moment had been 
 thinking of what he should do were they to en- 
 counter the goblin unexpectedly, thought that sure 
 enough here were some of the goblins, who had 
 heard of his approach. They had simply disguised 
 themselves as these venerable old men so as to de- 
 ceive him and his men ! But he was not to be out- 
 witted by any such prank. He made signs with 
 his eyes to the men behind him to be on their 
 guard, and they in obedience to his gesture put 
 themselves in attitudes of defence. 
 
 The three old men saw at once the mistake 
 Raiko had made, for they smiled at him and then 
 drawing nearer, they bowed before him, and the 
 
 ii8 
 
foremost one said : " Do not be afraid of us ; we 4tyfc 
 are not the goblins of this mountain. I am from i^T" 
 the province of Settsu. My friend is from Kii, "J^ 
 and the third lives near the capital. We have all 
 been bereft of our beloved wives and daughters by 
 Shutendoji the goblin. Because of our great age 
 we can do nothing to help them, though our sorrow 
 for their loss, instead of growing less, grows greater 
 day by day. We have heard of your coming, and 
 we have awaited you here, so that we might ask 
 you to help us in our distress. It is a great favour 
 we ask, but we entreat you if you encounter Shu- 
 tendoji to show him no mercy, but to slay him and 
 so avenge the wrongs of our wives and children 
 and many others who have been torn away from v 
 their homes in the Flower Capital." 
 
 Raiko listened attentively to all the old man 
 said, and then answered : " Now that you have 
 told me so much, I need not reserve the truth from 
 you " ; and he went on to tell them of the order 
 he had received from the Emperor to destroy Shu- 
 tendoji and his den, and the warrior did his best to 
 comfort the old men and to assure them that he 
 would do all in his power to restore their kidnapped 
 wives and daughters. 
 
 Then the old men expressed great joy ; their 
 faces beamed like the sun as they thanked Raiko 
 warmly for his kind sympathy, and they presented 
 him with a jar of sak/, saying as they bowed low : 
 
 119 
 
" As a token of our gratitude we wish to present 
 you with this magic wine. It is called ' Shimben- 
 Kidoku-Shu.' The name means, 'a cordial for men 
 ■ but a poison to goblins.' Therefore if a demon 
 drinks of this wine, all his, strength will go from 
 him, and he will be as one paralyzed. Before you 
 attack Shutendoji, give him to drink of this wine, 
 and for the rest you will find no difficulty." 
 
 And with these words the venerable spokesman 
 handed the warrior a small white stone jar con- 
 taining the wine. As soon as Raiko had taken the 
 jar into his hands, a radiance like that of sunlight 
 suddenly shone round the old men, and they van- 
 ished upwards from sight till their shining figures 
 were lost in the clouds. 
 
 The warriors were struck with astonishment. 
 They gazed upwards as if stupefied. But Raiko 
 was the first to recover from his surprise. He 
 clapped his hands and laughed as he said : " Be not 
 afraid at what you have seen ! Be sure that the 
 three who thus appeared to us are none other than 
 the gods of the shrines we visited before starting 
 on this perilous enterprise. The old man who said 
 he was from Settsu must have been the deity of 
 Sumiyoshi, the one from the province of Kii was 
 the divinity of Kumano, and the one from the cap- 
 ital the god Hachiman of Mount Otoko. This is 
 a most propitious sign. The three deities have 
 taken us under their special protection. This sak^ 
 
 1 20 
 
m 
 
 is their gift, and it will surely be of magic power 
 in helping us to overcome the demons. We must, 
 therefore, render thanks to Heaven for the protec- ^T 
 tion vouchsafed to us." 
 
 Then Raiko and his five knights knelt down on 
 the mountain pass and bowed themselves to the 
 ground and prayed for some minutes in silence, 
 overcome with awe at the thought that the three 
 gods whose aid they had invoked had visited them. 
 Raiko sprang to his feet and lifted the jar of saki 
 reverently above his head, then he placed it with 
 his armour and weapons in the box he carried on 
 his back. Having done this, they all proceeded 
 on their way, but oh! how safe and confident 
 they now felt. Raiko with his magic wine felt 
 more than a match for any demon now. There is 
 a proverb which says, "A giant with an iron rod," 
 which means strength added to strength, and this 
 was fully illustrated in the case of Raiko. The 
 goblin Shutendoji was now to be pitied ; it would 
 surely go hard with him ! 
 
 As they sped on their way they came to a moun- 
 tain stream, and here they found a damsel wash- 
 ing a blood-stained garment, and as she washed 
 and beat the garment against the current, they saw 
 that she often had to stop and wipe the tears away 
 with her sleeve, for she was weeping bitterly. 
 Raiko' s heart was stirred with pity at her distress, 
 and he went up to her and said : " This is a goblin- 
 
 121 
 
n 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 haunted mountain ; how is it that I find a damsel 
 such as you here ? " 
 
 The Princess (for such she was) looked up in his 
 face wonderingly and said : " It is indeed true that 
 this is a goblin-haunted mountain, and hitherto 
 inaccessible to mortals. How is it that you have 
 managed to get here ? " and she looked from Raiko 
 to his men. 
 
 Then Raiko said : "I will tell you the truth 
 quite frankly. The Emperor has commanded us to 
 slay the demon ; that is why we are here ! " 
 
 Without waiting to hear any more, the Princess 
 ran up to Raiko in her joy and clung to him, cry- 
 ing out in broken sentences : " Are you indeed 
 the great Raiko of whom I have so often heard ? 
 How thankful I am that you have come. I will be 
 your guide to the goblin's den. Hasten, Knight 
 Raiko, and kill the demons ! I already feel that I 
 am saved ! " 
 
 When they heard these words the warriors 
 knew that she was one of the goblin's victims. 
 The Princess turned and led the way up the 
 hill. Presently they saw a large iron gate guarded 
 by two demons. The demon on the right was 
 red and the demon on the left was black, and 
 each was armed with a great iron stick or club. 
 The Princess whispered to Raiko : " Behold the 
 home of the demon. Enter the gates, and you 
 will find a beautiful palace, built of black iron 
 
 122 
 
m 
 
 from the foundations to the roof. It is therefore 
 called the Palace of Black Iron or Kurogane. It 
 is large, and the inside is as beautiful as a great ^C" 
 Daimio's palace. Within the walls of the Palace of 
 Black Iron, Shutendoji holds a feast night and 
 day. He is waited upon by maidens such as I, 
 whom he has carried off from the capital and from 
 the provinces to be his slaves. The wine he 
 drinks, poured out in crimson lacquer cups, is the 
 blood of human beings, and the food of those 
 feasts is the flesh of his victims who are slain in 
 turn. What numbers have I seen disappear, alas 1 
 all murdered to supply the awful food and wine of 
 those cannibal feasts. How I have prayed to 
 Heaven to punish this monster ! But when I saw 
 the fate of my friends, how could I hope to live ? I 
 knew not when my turn would come. But since I 
 have met you I feel that we shall all be saved and 
 great is my joy and gratitude! " 
 
 By this time they had reached the gate, and the 
 Princess went forward and said to the red and 
 black demon sentinels : " These poor travellers 
 have lost their way on this mountain. I took com- 
 passion on them and brought them here, so that 
 they may rest for a while before going on their 
 journey. I hope you will be kind to them." 
 
 When the Princess first began to speak the 
 demons looked and saw Raiko and his fellow 
 priests. Little dreaming who these men were, and 
 
 123 
 

 that in admitting them they were letting in the 
 bravest knights in the whole of Japan, and still 
 less suspecting their purpose, the demons laughed 
 in their hearts. Good prey had indeed fallen into 
 their hands; they would surely be allowed a 
 share in the feast that these fresh victims would 
 furnish. 
 
 They grinned from ear to ear at the Princess 
 and told her that she had done well, and bade her 
 take the six travellers into the Palace and inform 
 Shutendoji of their arrival. Thus the six warriors 
 entered into the very stronghold of the demons 
 as if they were invited guests. Triumphant glee 
 at the success of their plan made them exchange 
 lightning glances with each other. They passed 
 through the great iron gate, up to the porch, and 
 then the Princess led them through large spacious 
 rooms and along great corridors till at last they 
 reached the inner part of the Palace. Here they 
 were shown into a large hall. At the upper end 
 in the seat of honour sat the demon king Shuten- 
 doji. Never had the knights in their wildest 
 dreams dreamt of such a hideous monster. He 
 was ten feet in height, his skin was bright red and 
 his wild shock of hair was like a broom. He wore a 
 crimson hakama,^ and he rested his huge arms 
 on a stand. As the knights entered, he glared at 
 them fiercely with eyes as big as a dish. The sight 
 
 ' Hakama, a divided skirt, part of the Japanese costume. 
 
 124 
 
of this dread monster was enough to make any 
 one tremble with fear, and had Raiko and his 
 knights been weak they must have fainted away 
 with horror. 
 
 Raiko could hardly restrain himself from flying 
 at the monster then and there, but he controlled 
 himself and bowed humbly so as not to awaken 
 the enemy's suspicion in any way. 
 
 Shutendoji, glaring at him, said haughtily : " I 
 do not know who you are in the least, or how you 
 have found your way into this mountain, but 
 make yourself at home! " 
 
 Then Raiko answered meekly : " We are only 
 humble mountain priests from Mount Haguro of 
 Dewa. We were on our way to the capital, having 
 been on a pilgrimage to the shrine of Omine. 
 In travelling across these mountains we have 
 lost our way. While wandering about and wonder- 
 ing which was the right path to take, we were 
 met by one of the inmates of your palace and 
 kindly brought here. Please pardon us for tres- 
 passing on your domains and for all the trouble 
 we are giving you ! " , 
 
 "Don't mention it," said Shutendoji; "I am 
 sorry to hear of your plight. Do not stand on cere- 
 mony while you are here, and let us feast together." 
 Then turning to the attendant demons he shouted 
 orders for the dinner to be served, and clapped 
 his red hands together. 
 
 125 
 
At this the partitions between the rooms slid 
 apart and beautiful damsels magnificently robed 
 came gliding in, bearing aloft in their hands large 
 wine-cups, jars of saM, and dishes of fish of all 
 kinds, which they placed before the ugly goblin 
 and the guests. Raiko knew that all these lovely 
 princesses had been snatched from the Flower 
 Capital by Shutendoji, who, heedless of their tears 
 and misery, kept them here to be his handmaidens. 
 He said to himself fiercely that they should soon 
 be free. 
 
 Now that the wine-cups were brought in, the 
 warrior seized his opportunity. From his satchel 
 he took out the jar containing the enchanted wine, 
 Shimben-Kidoku-Shu, which he had received from 
 the gods of the three shrines, and said to Shuten- 
 doji : " Here is some wine which we have brought 
 from Mount Haguro. It is a poor wine and un- 
 worthy of your acceptance, but we have always 
 found it of great benefit in refreshing us when 
 we were weary from fatigue and in cheering our 
 drooping spirits. It will give us much pleasure if 
 you will try a little of our humble wine, though it 
 may not please your taste ! " 
 
 Shutendoji seemed pleased at this courtesy. He 
 handed out a huge cup to be filled, saying : " Give 
 me some of your wine. I should like to try it." 
 
 The goblin drained it at one swallow and 
 smacked his lips over it. 
 
 126 
 
m 
 
 •" I have never tasted such excellent wine," he 
 said and held out his cup to be filled again. 
 
 You can imagine how delighted Raiko was, for ^C* 
 he knew full well that the demon was given into 
 his hand. But he dissembled cleverly and said as 
 he filled the goblin's wine-cup : " I am delighted 
 that the Honourable Host should deign to like 
 our poor country wine. While you drink, I and my 
 companions will venture to amuse you by our 
 dancing." 
 
 Then Raiko made a sign to his men and they 
 began to chant an accompaniment, while he him- 
 self danced. 
 
 Shutendoji was highly amused as well as his 
 attendants. They had never seen men dance before, 
 and they thought that the strangers were very en- 
 tertaining. 
 
 The gobhns now began to pass the magic wine 
 round and to grow merry. Others meanwhile 
 whispered among themselves, pitying the six 
 travellers who, all unconscious of the horrible fate 
 which was about to overtake them, were spending 
 their last hours of liberty and probably of life in 
 giving wine to their slayers and in dancing and 
 singing for their amusement ! 
 
 Already, however, the power of the enchanted 
 wine had begun to work and Shutendoji grew 
 drowsy. The wine in the jar never seemed to 
 grow less, however much was taken from it, and 
 
 127 
 

 by this time all the demons had helped themselves 
 liberally. At last they all fell into a deep sleep, 
 and stretching themselves out on the floor and on 
 one another, some in one corner and some in an- 
 other, they were soon snoring so loudly that the 
 room shook, and were as insensible to all that was 
 going on as logs of wood. 
 
 " The time has come ! " said Raiko, springing to 
 his feet, and motioning to his men to get to work. 
 One and all hastily opened their knapsacks. Tak- 
 ing out their helmets, their armour, and their long 
 swords, they armed themselves. When they were 
 all ready they all knelt down, and, placing their 
 hands palm to palm, they prayed fervently to 
 their patron gods to help them now in their hour 
 of greatest need and peril. 
 
 As they prayed, a shining light filled the room, 
 and in a radiant cloud the three deities appeared 
 again. " Fear not, Warrior Raiko," they said. " We 
 have tied the hands and feet of the demon fast, so 
 you have nothing to fear. While your knights cut 
 off his limbs, do you cut off his head ; then kill 
 the rest of the oni and your work will be done." 
 
 The three old men then disappeared as myste- 
 riously as they had come. 
 
 Raiko rejoiced at the vision and worshipped 
 with his heart full of gratitude the vanishing deities. 
 The knights then rose from their knees, took 
 their swords and wet the rivets with water, so as 
 
 128 
 
to fix the blade firmly in the hilt. Then they all 
 stole stealthily and cautiously towards Shutendoji. 
 No longer the timid mountain priests ; clad in full ^T 
 armour, they were transformed into avenging war- 
 riors. With flashing eyes and dauntless mien they 
 moved across the room. 
 
 The captive princesses standing round realized 
 that these men were deliverers, from their beloved 
 capital. Their joy and wonder cannot be put into 
 words. Some cried aloud with joy ; others covered 
 their faces with their sleeves and burst into soft 
 weeping; others raised their hands to Heaven and 
 exclaimed, " A Buddha come to Hell 1 Surely these 
 brave men will kill the demons and set us free " ; 
 and with clasped hands they entreated the knights to 
 slay their captors and take them back to their homes. 
 
 Now Raiko stood over the sleeping Shutendoji 
 with drawn sword, and raising it on high with a 
 mighty sweep he aimed at the demon's neck, which 
 was as big round as a barrel. 
 
 The head was severed from the body at one 
 blow, but, horrible to relate, instead of falling to 
 the ground, it flew up into the air in a great rage. 
 It hung over Raiko for a moment snorting flames 
 of fire, and then swooped down as if it would bite 
 off the warrior's head, but it was daunted by the 
 glittering star on his helmet, and drew back and 
 gazed in surprise at the transformed man. Raiko 
 was scorched by the demon's flaming breath. Once 
 
 129 
 

 more he raised his long sword and striking the 
 terrible head brought it to the ground at last. 
 
 The noise of the combat and the triumphant 
 shouts of the warriors awoke the other demons, who 
 roused themselves as quickly as their stupefied 
 senses allowed them. They were in a great fright, 
 and without waiting to get their iron clubs, they 
 made a rush upon Raiko. But they were too late. 
 His five braves dashed in and attacked them right 
 and left, until in a few minutes there was not one 
 left to tell the tale of the destruction which had 
 come down upon them like the autumn whirlwind 
 upon the leaves of the forest glades. 
 
 The captive princesses, when they saw that their 
 captors were all slain, jumped about with glad- 
 ness, waving their long sleeves to and fro, as the 
 tears of joy streamed down their pale faces. 
 They ran to Raiko and caught hold of his sleeves 
 and praised him, saying: "Oh! Raiko Sama, what 
 a brave and noble knight you are ! We are indeed 
 grateful to you for having saved our lives. Never 
 have we seen such a wonderful warrior." And 
 with many such expressions of joy they gath- 
 ered round the knight, and their merry voices 
 were now heard, instead of the groans of the dying 
 cannibals. 
 
 Now that Shutendoji was vanquished with all his 
 horde, the way was quite open for Raiko and his 
 men to take the fair captives away from the castle 
 
 130 
 
a 
 
 H 
 
 o 
 
 H 
 g 
 
 '^ 
 H 
 iJ 
 »v 
 
 P 
 •a! 
 
 a 
 
 X 
 
of horf or and make their way back to the capital 
 as soon as possible. 
 
 First of all Raiko tied up the head of Shutendoji ^T 
 with a strong rope and told the five brave knights 
 to carry it. Then, followed by the princesses, the 
 little band left Mount Oye forever and set out on 
 the homeward journey. When they reached Kyoto 
 the news of Raiko' s return spread like fire, and the 
 people came out in crowds to welcome the heroes. 
 
 When the parents of the long-lost damsels saw 
 their daughters again, they felt as if they must be 
 dreaming. It seemed too good to be true that the 
 dear and cherished ones should be restored to them 
 safe and well, and they overwhelmed Raiko with 
 praise and with precious gifts. 
 
 Raiko took the head of Shutendoji to the Em- 
 peror and told him of all that had happened to him. 
 You may be sure that when His Majesty heard of 
 the success which had crowned Raiko and his expe- 
 dition, he awarded him great praise and merit and 
 bestowed upon him higher Court rank than ever. 
 
 In all the country, far and near, Raiko's name was 
 in every one's mouth, and he was acknowledged to be 
 the greatest warrior in the land. Even in the lonely 
 country places there was not one poor farmer who did 
 not know of the brave deeds of the great general. 
 
 Ever since then his portrait is familiar to the 
 boys of Japan, for it is often painted on their kites. 
 
KIDOMARU THE ROBBER, RAIKO 
 THE BRAVE, AND THE GOBLIN 
 SPIDER 
 
/N 
 
 KIDOMARU THE ROBBER, RAIKO 
 THE BRAVE, AND THE GOBLIN 
 SPIDER 
 
 YOU have just read of the brave knight Raiko's 
 exploits at Oyeyama and how he rid the 
 country of the demons who haunted the city of 
 Kyoto and terrified the inhabitants of the Flower 
 Capital (as that city was sometimes called) by 
 their terrible deeds. 
 
 There are other interesting stories about him 
 and his fearless warrior-retainers which you may 
 like to hear. 
 
 It was not long after Raiko's exploits at Oye- 
 yama that the country rang with the name of Kido- 
 maru, a robber and highwayman, who, by his no- 
 torious deeds of cruelty and robbery, had caused 
 his name to be feared and hated by all, both young 
 and old. 
 
 One evening Raiko with his attendants was re- 
 turning home from a day's hunting, when he hap- 
 pened to pass the house of his younger brother 
 Yorinobu. The warrior had had a long day out ; 
 and having still a good distance to ride before he 
 
 135 
 

 would reach his own house the thought of a good 
 meal and friendly company, just then, when he was 
 tired and very hungry, was pleasant to contemplate 
 in the lonely hour of twilight. So he called a halt 
 outside the house and sent in word to his brother 
 that he, Raiko, was passing by, and that if Yori- 
 nobu had any refreshment to offer his brother, he 
 would call in and stay the night there, as he was 
 tired out on his way back from a day's hunt. 
 
 Now in Japan an elder brother or sister com- 
 mands respect from the younger members of the 
 family, and so Yorinobu was very pleased that 
 Raiko, his elder brother, had condescended to call 
 upon him. 
 
 The servant soon returned with the message that 
 Yorinobu was only too pleased to receive Raiko; 
 that he had ordered a feast to be prepared that 
 evening in honour of an unusual event, and as he 
 was alone, nothing could be more opportune or 
 give him greater joy than that his elder brother 
 should have chanced to come by. He humbly 
 begged Raiko that he would deign to share the 
 feast, such as it was, and to. pardon the poorness 
 of his hospitality. 
 
 Raiko was very pleased with his brother's gra- 
 cious reception. He quickly flung the reins to his 
 groom, dismounted from his horse, and entered 
 the house, wondering what could be the occasion 
 of Yorinobu's ordering a banquet for himself. When 
 
 136 
 
the warrior was shown into the room he found 
 Yorinobu seated on the mats drinking saM, as the 
 servants were bringing in the first dishes of the 
 dinner. When the salutations were over, Yorinobu 
 handed Raiko his wine-cup. Raiko took it, and 
 having drained it, asked what his brother meant 
 by the feast he had promised him and what was 
 the occasion of it. Yorinobu laughed as if with 
 triumph, and wheeling round on his cushion pointed 
 out into the garden. 
 
 Raiko then looked in the direction indicated by 
 his brother's hand, and saw, tied up to a large pine 
 tree, a young man who could not be much over 
 thirty and of extraordinary strength. The face of 
 the captive expressed hate and ferocity, his body 
 was of an enormous build, while his arms and legs 
 were like trunks of pine trees, so large and brown' 
 and muscular were they. His hair was a rough and 
 matted shock, and the eyes glared as if they would 
 start from their sockets. Indeed to Raiko the wild 
 creature looked more like a demon than a human 
 being. 
 
 " Well, Yorinobu ! " said Raiko, " the occasion 
 of your feast is to say the least unusual ; it must 
 certainly have given you some sport to catch that 
 wild creature ; but tell me who he is that you have 
 got tied up out there." 
 
 " Have you not heard of Kidomaru, the notori- 
 ous robber ? " answered Yorinobu. " There he is ! 
 
 13; 
 
 /\ 
 

 One of my men captured him out on the hills ; he 
 found him asleep. The town has long been clam- 
 ouring for him. He has a big score to settle at 
 last. For to-night I intend to keep him tied up 
 like that, and to-morrow I shall hand him over to 
 the law ! Come, let us be merry, for the dinner is 
 served ! " 
 
 Raiko clapped his hands when he heard of the 
 great feat Yorinobu and his men had accomplished 
 in catching the fearful robber, the terror of whose 
 lawless deeds had long held the people of Kyoto 
 trembling with fear and dread. The outlaw Kido- 
 maru was caught at last and by his own brother 
 Yorinobu ! This was an event of rejoicing and con- 
 gratulation for the family. 
 
 " You have certainly done a meritorious service 
 to your country," said he, " but it is ridiculous to 
 tie such a creature up with a rope only. You might 
 just as well think of tying up a wild cow with a 
 fine kite-string. It would be less dangerous. Take 
 my advice, Yorinobu, put a strong iron chain round 
 him, or the murderer will soon be at large again." 
 
 Yorinobu thought his brother's advice wise, 
 so he clapped his hands. When the servant came 
 to answer the summons, he ordered him to bring 
 an iron chain. When this was brought, he went 
 into the garden, followed by Raiko and his men, 
 and wojind it round Kidomaru's body several times, 
 securing it at last to a post with a padlock. 
 
 138 
 
Kidomaru up to this time had rejoiced at his 
 light bonds. He was so strong that he knew he 
 could easily break a rope, and he had waited but 
 for the nightfall to make good his escape under 
 cover of the darkness. You can imagine how great 
 was his anger at Raiko's interference, which was 
 the cause of his being treated with so much sever- 
 ity that his projected escape would now be difficult. 
 
 " Hateful man ! " muttered Kidomaru to himself. 
 " I will surely punish you for what you have done 
 to me ! Remember ! " and he threw evil glances 
 at Raiko. 
 
 But the brave warrior cared little for the wild 
 robber's malignant glances ; he only laughed when 
 he noticed them, and, as the chain was drawn 
 tighter round the robber, he said : "That's right! 
 That chain will hold him sure enough 1 You must 
 run no risk of his escaping this time ! " 
 
 Then he and Yorinobu returned to the house, 
 and dinner was served and the two brothers made 
 merry the whole evening, talking over old times, 
 and it was late before they retired to rest. 
 
 Now Kidomaru knew that Raiko slept in Yori- 
 nobu's house, and he made up his mind to try to 
 slay him that night, for he was mad with wrath at 
 what Raiko had done to him. 
 
 " He shall see what I can do ! " growled Kido- 
 maru to himself, shaking his rough and shaggy 
 head like a big long-haired terrier. He waited 
 
 139 
 
 m 
 
 /\ 
 
$ 
 ^ 
 
 -c 
 
 s 
 
 quietly till every one in the house had gone to rest 
 and all was silent. Then Kidomaru arose, cramped 
 and stiff from sitting tied up so long. With a 
 mighty effort he flung out his great arms, laughing 
 defiance at the chain that bound him. So great 
 was his strength that no second effort was needed ; 
 the chain broke and fell clanking to the ground at 
 once, and Kidomaru, like a large hound, shook 
 himself free from his bonds. Softly as a mouse he 
 approached the house and climbed on to the roof, 
 and with one tremendous blow from his huge fist, 
 he broke through the tiles and the boards to the 
 ceiling. His plan was to jump down upon Raiko 
 while he lay sleeping, and taking him unawares 
 suddenly to cut off his head. But the warrior had 
 lain down to rest expecting such an attack, and he 
 had slept but lightly. As soon as he heard the 
 noise above him, he was wide awake in an instant, 
 and to warn his enemy he coughed and cleared 
 his throat. Kidomaru was a man of fierce and 
 dauntless character, and he was not in the least 
 thrown back in his purpose by finding that Raiko 
 was awake. He went on with his work of making 
 a hole large enough in the ceiling to let himself 
 through to the room beneath. 
 
 Raiko now sat up and clapped his hands loudly 
 to summon his men, who slept in an adjoining 
 room. Watanabe, the chief man-at-arms, came out 
 to see what his master wanted. 
 
 140 
 
" Watanabe," said Raiko, " my sleep has been 
 disturbed by something moving in the ceiling. It 
 may be a weasel, for weasels are noisy creatures. 
 It cannot be a rat, for a rat is not large enough to 
 make so much noise. At any rate, it seems impos- 
 sible to sleep to-night, so saddle the horses and 
 get all the men ready to start. I will get up and 
 ride out to the Temple of Mount Kurama. I want 
 all the men to accompany me." 
 
 Perched between the roof and the ceiling, the 
 robber heard all this, and said to himself : " What 
 ho ! Raiko goes to Kurama ! That is good news ! 
 Instead of wasting my time here like a rat in a 
 trap, I will set out for Kurama immediately and 
 get there before those stupid men can, and I will 
 waylay them and kill them all." So Kidomaru 
 crawled out on the roof again, let himself down to 
 the ground, and hurried with all the speed he 
 could make to Kurama. 
 
 A large plain had to be crossed in going from 
 the city to Kurama, and here a number of wild 
 cattle had their home. When Kidomaru, on his 
 way to Kurama, came to this spot, a plan flashed 
 across his mind by which he could steal a march 
 on Raiko. He soon caught one of the big oxen a 
 blow on the head. Three blows one after the other, 
 and the ox fell dead at the robber's feet. Kido- 
 maru then proceeded to strip off its skin. It was 
 very hard work, but he managed to do it quickly, 
 
 141 
 
 Ife 
 
 /\ 
 

 so strong was he, and then throwing the hide over 
 himself he lay down completely disguised, a man 
 in a bull's hide, and waited for Raiko and his men 
 to come. 
 
 He had not long to wait. Raiko, followed by his 
 four braves, soon came in sight. The warrior reined 
 in his horse when he came to the plain and saw the 
 cattle. He turned to his men and said : " Here is 
 a place where we may find some sport. Instead of 
 going on to Kurama, let us stay here and have 
 some hunting! Look at the wild cattle ! " 
 
 The four retainers with one accord all gladly 
 agreed to their chiefs proposal, for they loved 
 sport and adventure just as much as Raiko and 
 were glad of an excuse to show their skill as hunts- 
 men. The sun was just rising, and the prospect of a 
 fine morning added zest to the pastime. Each man 
 prepared his bow and arrows in readiness to begin 
 the chase. 
 
 But the cattle, thus disturbed, did not enjoy 
 the sport. Man's play was their death indeed. One 
 of their number had been killed by Kidomaru, and 
 now they were attacked by Raiko and his men, 
 who came riding furiously into their midst, shoot- 
 ing at them with bows and arrows. With angry 
 snorts, whisking their tails on high and butting 
 with their horns, they ran to right and left. In 
 the general stampede that followed their attack, 
 the hunters noticed that one animal lay still in the 
 
 142 
 
tall grass. At first they thought it must be either 
 lame or ill, so they took no notice of it, and left 
 it alone till Raiko came riding up. He went up 
 and looked at it carefully, and then ordered one of 
 his men to shoot it. 
 
 The man obeyed, and taking his bow, shot an 
 arrow at the recumbent animal. The arrow did not 
 hit the mark ; for, to the astonishment of the four 
 hunters, the hide was flung aside and out stepped 
 the robber Kidomaru. 
 
 " You, Raiko ! It is you, is it ? " exclaimed he. 
 " Do you know that I have a spite against you ? " 
 and with these words he darted forward and 
 attacked Raiko with a dagger. But Raiko did not 
 even move in his saddle. He drew his sword and, 
 adroitly guarding himself, exchanged two or three 
 strokes with the robber, and then slashed off his 
 head. But wonderful to relate, so strong was the 
 will that animated Kidomaru that though his head 
 was cut off, his body stood up straight and firm 
 till his right arm, still holding the dagger, struck 
 at Raiko's saddle. Then, and not till then, it col- 
 lapsed. It is said that the warriors were all greatly 
 impressed by the malevolent spirit of the robber, 
 which was strong enough to stir the body to action 
 even after the head had been severed from the 
 shoulders. 
 
 Such was the death of the notorious robber 
 Kidomaru, at the hands of the brave warrior Raiko 
 
 143 
 
 /\ 
 

 who was awarded much praise for the clever way 
 in which he drew Kidomaru out as far as Kurama 
 to kill him. He had understood from Kidomaru's 
 evil glances that the robber planned to kill him, 
 and he thus avoided causing trouble in his brother's 
 house. In this instance, as always, Raiko displayed 
 wisdom and bravery. 
 
 No sooner, however, was Kidomaru killed, than 
 news was brought to the capital that another man 
 had arisen who imitated Kidomaru in his daily 
 deeds of robbery and other wicked acts. This 
 robber's name was Kakamadare. 
 
 One bright moonlight night, Kakamadare was 
 waiting on the plain between Kyoto and Kurama 
 for travellers to come that way, hoping that luck 
 would bring some rich man into his clutches. 
 Presently he heard some one coming towards him 
 playing on a flute. Thinking this somewhat strange, 
 he hid himself in the grass and waited to see who 
 would appear. The sweet music drew nearer and 
 nearer, and then the player came in view. The 
 light of the moon made everything as clear as day, 
 and the robber saw a handsome samurai of soldierly 
 aspect, dressed in beautiful silken robes and wear- 
 ing a long sword at his side. 
 
 " Now 's my opportunity ; I 'm in luck to-night," 
 thought the robber, as he rose from his hiding- 
 place and stealthily followed the flute-player. As 
 he kept step by step behind him, Kakamadare 
 
 144 
 
drew his sword in readiness several times to cut 
 down his prey, and waited for the chance to strike. 
 
 All at once the samurai turned and looked stead- 
 ily at the robber, who began to tremble. Then the 
 knight calmly and coolly resumed his playing, as 
 if utterly indifferent to the danger which threat- 
 ened him. Once more the robber followed, with 
 the intention of cutting the man down, but the 
 opportunity for which he waited never came ; each 
 time his hand went up with his sword, it as quickly 
 fell to his side. A spirit of high and noble purpose 
 seemed to emanate from the knight, which cowed 
 the man behind and made him weak. For so great 
 is the virtue of the sword that in Japan it is an 
 acknowledged fact that all noble swordsmen had 
 this power of subduing lesser natures by the 
 spiritual grace which went forth from them. In- 
 deed the belief in the occult power of the sword 
 was great, and it was said that no bad man could 
 keep the possession of a fine blade. 
 
 Kakamadare could not strike. He could not tell 
 the cause of his weakness. He thought that it 
 might be the influence of the music. He found 
 himself listening to the gentle strains of the flute, 
 and admiring the skill with which the man played. 
 He noticed the firm and fearless air of the knight 
 as he walked and his great nerve. The man knew 
 himself to be followed by a robber, yet he showed 
 not the least concern. Kakamadare tried to turn 
 
 145 
 
 /\ 
 

 back now, but he found that he could do nothing 
 but follow the man in front of him. In this way 
 the strange pair reached the town. Rakamadare 
 now made a great effort to break the spell, and 
 was on the point of turning back and trying to es- 
 cape from the strange, compelling presence, when 
 to his astonishment the samurai suddenly wheeled 
 round upon him and said : " Kakamadare, I thank 
 you for your trouble ! You have given me a safe 
 escort ! " 
 
 At this the robber became so terrified that he 
 fell down on his knees and was unable to move or 
 speak for some moments. At last, so soon as his 
 tongue found utterance, he said: "I know not 
 who you are, but I beg you to forgive me ! I would 
 have killed youl " 
 
 He then confessed everything to the knight. 
 He told him of his many deeds of robbery and 
 violence which had made him feared and hated by 
 the people, who thought that he must be a demon, 
 for so cruel and relentless was he that he never 
 showed mercy even to the poorest peasant. "I 
 have never met any one like you," Kakamadare 
 went on to say. " I promise to give up my life as 
 a robber, and I beg you to take me into your serv- 
 ice as one of the humblest of your retainers." 
 
 The knight led the man home, and gave him 
 some good clothes, telling him that when he again 
 got into straits and wanted money or clothes, he 
 
 146 
 
might come a second time to the house, but that 
 it was unwise to show such contempt for others as 
 to enter into an encounter where he himself might 
 be the injured party. 
 
 This kindness and mercy touched the man's 
 heart, and from that day he became a reformed 
 man and a law-abiding citizen. 
 
 The knight was none other than Hirai, one of 
 the warriors who accompanied Raiko in his suc- 
 cessful expedition against the demons of Oyeyama. 
 There is a saying that " Brave generals make brave 
 soldiers," and it is quite true. Raiko was a man of 
 great sagacity and courage, and his band of braves 
 and the knight Hirai, of whom we have just read, 
 were like their master. There were no men in the 
 whole of Japan braver than they. This proves the 
 truth of the old adage. 
 
 There is another story about the General Raiko 
 which you may like to hear. The sword with which 
 Raiko slew Kidomaru was called the Kumokiri, or 
 Spider-cutting Sword, and about the naming of 
 this blade there is an interesting story. 
 
 It happened at one time that Raiko was unwell 
 and was obliged to keep his room. Every night at 
 about twelve a little acolyte would come to his 
 bedside, and in a kind and gentle way pour out and 
 give him some medicine to take. Raiko noticed 
 that he did not know the boy, but as there were 
 many underlings in the servants' quarters whom 
 
 147 
 
 M 
 
 /\ 
 
he never saw, this did not strike him as strange. 
 But Raiko, instead of recovering, found himself 
 growing weaker and weaker, and especially after 
 ■ taking the medicine he always felt worse. 
 
 At last one day he spoke to his head servant and 
 asked him who it was that brought him medicine 
 every night, but the attendant answered that he 
 knew nothing about the medicine and that there 
 was no acolyte in the house. 
 
 Raiko now suspected some supernatural snare. 
 "Some malevolent being is taking advantage of 
 my illness and trying to bewitch me or to cause 
 my death. When the boy comes again to-night I 
 will find out his real form. He may be a fox or 
 goblin in disguise!" said Raiko. 
 
 So he waited for the appearance of the acolyte, 
 wondering what the strange incident codld mean. 
 
 When midnight came, the boy, as usual, appeared, 
 bringing with him the usual cup of medicine. The 
 knight calmly took the cup from the boy and said, 
 "Thank you for your trouble!" but instead of 
 swallowing the false medicine, he threw it, cup and 
 all, at the boy's head. Then jumping up he seized 
 the sword that lay beside his bed and cut at the im- 
 postor. As the blade fell, the acolyte screamed with 
 rage and pain, then, with a movement as quick as 
 lightning, before he turned to escape from the room, 
 he threw something at the knight, which, marvellous 
 to relate, as he threw, spread outwards pyramid- 
 
 148 
 
ically into a large white sticky web which fell over 
 Raiko and clung to him so that he could hardly 
 move. Raiko whirled his sword round and cut 
 the clinging meshes and freed himself ; again the 
 goblin threw a web over him, and again Raiko cut 
 the enmeshing threads away ; once more the huge 
 spider's web — for such it was — was thrown over 
 him, and then the goblin fled. Raiko called for 
 his men and then sank exhausted on his bed. 
 
 His chief retainer, answering the summons, met 
 the acolyte in the corridor, and thinking it strange 
 that an unknown priest, however young, should 
 come from his master's room at that hour of the 
 night, stopped him with drawn sword. 
 
 The goblin answered not a word, but threw his 
 entangling web over the man and mysteriously 
 disappeared. 
 
 Now thoroughly alarmed, the retainer hastened 
 to Raiko. Great was his consternation when he 
 saw his master, with the meshes of the goblin's 
 web still clinging to him. 
 
 " See ! " exclaimed Raiko, pointing to the threads 
 still clinging to his man and himself, " a goblin 
 spider has been here ! " 
 
 He then gave orders to hunt down the goblin, 
 but the thing could nowhere be found. On the 
 white mats and along the corridors they found as 
 they searched red drops of blood, which showed 
 that the creature had been wounded. 
 
 149 
 
 • \ 
 

 Raiko's men followed the red trail, out into the 
 garden, across the city to the hills, till they came 
 to a cave, and here the blood-drops ceased. 
 Groans and cries of pain issued from the cave, so 
 the warriors felt sure that they had come to the 
 end of their hunt. 
 
 " The goblin is surely hiding in that cave ! " 
 they all said. Drawing their swords, they entered 
 the cave and found a monster spider writhing 
 with pain and bleeding from a deep sword-cut on 
 the head. They at once killed the creature and 
 carried it to Raiko. 
 
 The knight had often heard stories of these 
 dreadful spiders, but had never seen one before. 
 
 " It was this goblin spider then that wanted to 
 prey upon me ! The net that was thrown over me 
 was a spider's web ! Of all my adventures this is 
 the strangest ! " said Raiko. 
 
 That night Raiko ordered a banquet to be pre- 
 pared for all his retainers in honour of the event, 
 and he drank to the health of his five brave men. 
 
 From that time the acolyte never appeared and 
 Raiko recovered his health and strength at once. 
 
 Such is the story of the Kumokiri Sword. Kumo 
 means " spider," and kiri means " cutting," and it 
 was so named because it cut to death the goblin 
 spider who haunted the brave knight Raiko. 
 
THE STORY OF THE POTS OF 
 PLUM, CHERRY, AND PINE 
 
THE STORY OF THE POTS OF 
 PLUM, CHERRY, AND PINE 
 
 LONG, long ago, in the reign of the Emperor 
 Go-Fukakusa, there lived a famous Regent of 
 the name of Saimyoji Tokiyori. Of all the Hojo 
 Regents he was the wisest and justest, and was 
 Imown far and wide among the people for his 
 deeds of mercy. At the age of thirty, Tokiyori re- 
 signed the regency in favour of his son Tokimune, 
 who was only six years old. He then retired to a 
 monastery for several years. Sometimes stories 
 reached his ears of the miscarriage of justice, of 
 the cruelty of the officials under him, and of the 
 suffering of the peasants, and he determined to find 
 out for himself if all these things were true. It was 
 the desire of his life to see the people governed 
 wisely and justly and impartially, to deal reward 
 and punishment fairly alike to the rich and the 
 poor, to the great and the lowly. After much 
 thought he decided that the best way to achieve 
 his end would be to find out for himself the con- 
 dition of the people, so he determined that he 
 would disguise himself and travel about amongst 
 
 153 
 

 them unknown. He had it given out that he was 
 dead, and had a mock funeral performed with all 
 the pomp and ceremony due to his exalted rank. 
 He then left Kamakura disguised as a travelling 
 priest unknown to any one. 
 
 After journeying from place to place, he came 
 one day to Sano, in the province of Kozuki. It was 
 in the depth of winter, and on this day he found 
 himself overtaken by a heavy snowstorm. There 
 were no houses near. Tokiyori then ascended a 
 hill, but even from that height, search as he might, 
 he could see no sign of any dwelling, near or far. 
 Confused and lost, he wandered about for hours. 
 The darkness began to fall when he found himself 
 in a hilly district. Tired and hungry, he resigned 
 himself to passing the night under the shelter of 
 a tree, when suddenly he espied in the distance 
 the brown line of a thatch-roofed cottage breaking 
 the white slope at the foot of the nearest hill. He 
 made his way quickly towards it and knocked at 
 the closed storm-doors. 
 
 Tokiyori heard some one move within and then 
 come to the porch. The storm-shutter was pushed 
 aside and a beautiful woman looked out. 
 
 " I have lost my way in the storm, and know not 
 what to do ! Will you be so, kind as to give me the 
 shelter of your roof this night .? " said Tokiyori. 
 
 The woman scanned the traveller from head to 
 foot. Then she said : " I am very sorry for you. I 
 
 154 
 
would willingly give you shelter, but my husband 
 being absent I must not let you in. You had bet- 
 ter go on to the next village of Yamamoto, which 
 is very near, and there you will find a good inn and 
 accommodation for travellers ! " 
 
 " You are right," answered Tokiyori ; " but alas ! 
 I am so tired that I can walk no more. For pity's 
 sake, let me sleep on the verandah or in your store- 
 house ; for so much shelter I shall be grateful." 
 
 " I am indeed sorry to refuse you," answered the 
 woman ; " but in the absence of my husband I 
 must not give shelter to a strange traveller. Were 
 he at home, he would with pleasure take you in 
 and give you lodging for the night. Try to make 
 your way to the next village." 
 
 Tokiyori, greatly impressed by her virtuous and 
 modest behaviour, bowed and said as he took his 
 leave : " There is no help for it ! I must try to 
 reach Yamamoto, since you cannot shelter me to- 
 night." 
 
 So the ex-Regent of Kamakura, spent and cold 
 and hungry, turned once more to meet the inclem- 
 ent weather. He took the direction pointed out 
 to him and plodded on through the snow. But alas ! 
 the storm had increased in violence, and the snow 
 fell faster and faster, and the wind howled across 
 the white drifts, whirling clouds of snow in his face 
 till at last he found it impossible to go on. He 
 stood still in the storm, not knowhig what to do. 
 
 155 
 

 Exerting all his strength, he found it difficult to 
 put one foot before the other. Just as he began to 
 give himself up for lost, he heard a voice calling 
 him from behind. 
 
 " Stop ! stop ! " at first faintly, then gradually the 
 cries grew nearer and more distinct. 
 
 Wondering who else could be out in such mer- 
 ciless weather, Tokiyori turned in the direction 
 whence the cries came and saw a man beckoning 
 to him to turn back. 
 
 " Are you calling me ? " asked Tokiyori. 
 
 " Yes indeed," replied the man ; " I am the hus- 
 band of the woman who turned you away from that 
 cottage just now. I regret that I was not at home 
 to offer you the poor hospitality that is all I have 
 to give. Please turn back with me. I can at least 
 give you shelter for the night, though my house 
 is only a small hut. You will be frozen to death 
 if you go on in this storm." 
 
 The priest rejoiced when he heard these kind 
 words, and as he turned back with his host he 
 uttered many words of thanks. When they entered 
 the porch, the woman whom he had already seen 
 came forward and welcomed the stranger cordially, 
 apologizing for her former behaviour. 
 
 " I pray you pardon me," she said, bowing 
 to the ground, " for my rude words a short time 
 ago ; but now' that my husband has returned I 
 hope you will pass the , night under our humble 
 
 156 
 
roof. I beg you not to be angry with me, knowing 
 the custom of these times." 
 
 " Don't mention it, my good woman," replied 
 the priest in disguise. " It was quite right of you to 
 refuse me admittance in your husband's absence. 
 I admire your prudent conduct." 
 
 While the priest and the hostess were thus ex- 
 changing civilities, her husband had entered the 
 little sitting-room and arranged some cotton cush- 
 ions on the mat. Having done this, he came out 
 to usher in the guest. 
 
 " Thank you," answered the priest, taking off 
 his snow-covered hat and rain-coat ; and, slip- 
 ping his feet out of the sandals, he entered the 
 house. 
 
 The host turned again to his guest and said : 
 " Now, as you see, I am a very poor man and I 
 cannot give you a good dinner such as the rich 
 can offer, but to our coarse, simple fare, such as 
 it is, you are very welcome." 
 
 The priest bowed to the ground and said that 
 he would be grateful for any food that would stay 
 his hunger ; he had walked all day in the cold and 
 had eaten nothing since breaking his fast in the 
 early morning. 
 
 Meanwhile the wife busied herself in the kitchen, 
 and as it was now the hour of sunset, the meal 
 was soon ready to be served. The priest noticed 
 that millet instead of rice filled the bowls, and that 
 
 157 
 
3 
 
 there was not a sign of fish in the soup, which was 
 made of vegetables only. The disguised ex-Re- 
 gent had never eaten such coarse food in his life 
 before, for millet is the poorest peasant's fare ; but 
 " Hunger needs no sauce," says the proverb, and 
 so Tokiyori was surprised to find with how great a 
 relish he could eat what was set before him, for 
 he was ravenously hungry. Never had food tasted 
 so sweet to him before. He long remembered 
 the sensation of pleasant surprise as he partook 
 of the first mouthful. The good wife waited on 
 them during the meal, according to Japanese 
 custom. 
 
 When supper was over, they all sat rovmd the 
 hearth, talking of the good old times and telling 
 each other amusing stories to while avray the time. 
 The hours flew quickly by and it was midnight be- 
 fore the host and his guest knew it. The fire had 
 burned very low without their noticing it, and they 
 began to shiver with cold. The host turned to the 
 fuel-box, but all the charcoal and wood had been 
 burned up. Then the host arose, and, regardless of 
 the falling snow and the bitter cold, went into the 
 garden and brought thence three pots of dwarfed 
 trees, for the training of which Japanese gardeners 
 are famous all the world over. 
 
 " On such a winter's night a good fire is neces- 
 sary for the entertainment of a traveller, but, alas ! 
 all the charcoal has been used up and I have no 
 
 158 
 
more in the house. To warm you before you retire 
 I will therefore burn these trees ! " 
 
 " What ! " said the astonished guest, for he saw 
 that the trees were of no common kind, but were 
 of some value, for they were old, and their training 
 ghowed the skill of an experienced gardener ; "these 
 pine, plum, and cherry trees are too good to be 
 used as fuel — they are finely trained. No! no! 
 you must n't burn them for me — they are far too 
 valuable !" 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself," said the host. *'I loved 
 them once when I was rich and had many more 
 such valuable trees in my possession. But now 
 that I am ruined and living in this miserable con- 
 dition, of what use are such trees to me, pray tell 
 me .? " and with these words he began to break up the 
 trees and to put the pieces on the fire. " If they 
 could speak, I am sure they would say how pleased 
 they were to be used for such a good purpose as 
 your comfort ! " 
 
 The disguised ex- Regent smiled as he watched 
 the kind man break up his pet trees, and make up 
 the fire. Since Tokiyori had first entered the house, 
 small and poverty-stricken though it was, he had 
 felt that his host was no common farmer as he 
 pretended to be ; that he must be a man in reduced 
 circumstances. 
 
 "I feel sure," said the priest, " that you, are no 
 farmer by birth ; indeed in you I recognize the 
 
 159 
 
n 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 courtesy and breeding of a samurai [a knight]. 
 Will you add one more favour to the rest you have 
 shown me this night and tell me your real name ? " 
 
 "Alas," answered the farmer in disguise, " I can- 
 not do so without shame." 
 
 " Do not trifle with me," said the priest, " for I 
 am very much in earnest. Tell me who you are. 
 I should very much like to know." 
 
 Pressed so earnestly to reveal himself, the host 
 could no longer refuse. 
 
 " Since you wish so earnestly to know, I will 
 tell who I am, without reserve," he answered. " I 
 am no farmer, as you rightly guessed. I am in real- 
 ity a samurai, and my name is Sano Genzaemon 
 Tsuneyo." 
 
 " Indeed.? Are you Sano Genzaemon Tsuneyo? 
 I have heard of you. You are a samurai of high 
 rank, I know. But tell me, how is it that you are 
 now in such reduced circumstances .■' " 
 
 " Oh, that^s a long story," replied Sano. " It was 
 through the dishonesty of an unworthy relation. 
 He seized my property, little by Uttle, without my 
 knowing it, and one day I found that he had taken 
 everything and that I was left with nothing except 
 this farmhouse and the land on which it stands." 
 
 " I am sorry for you," said Tokiyori ; " but why 
 have n't you brought a lawsuit against your rela- 
 tion .? Were you to do that, I am sure you would 
 recover your lost property." 
 
 i6q 
 
" Oh yes, I have thought of that," said the 
 farmer ; " but now that Tokiyori, the just Regent, 
 has died, and as Tokimune his successor is very 
 young, I felt that it was useless to present my 
 petition, so that I determined to resign myself to 
 poverty. But though I live and work like a farmer, 
 in heart and soul I am still a samurai. Should 
 war break out or even a call to arms be sounded, 
 I shall be the first to go to Kamakura, wearing 
 my armour, dilapidated and torn though it may be, 
 carrying my halberd, rusty as it is, and riding my 
 old horse, emaciated and unpresentable though he 
 is, and I will do glorious deeds once more and die 
 a knight's death. I never for one moment forget 
 my ambition. This alone buoys me up through all 
 my trouble and poverty," he added cheerfully, 
 looking up at his listener with a smile. 
 
 " Your purpose is a good one, and worthy of a 
 true samurai" said the priest, and he smiled and 
 looked at the knight intently. "I prophesy that 
 you will rise in life in the near future, and I feel 
 sure that I shall see you and congratulate you at 
 Kamakura on obtaining your heart's desire." 
 
 While they were talking, the night had passed 
 and day began to break. The snow had ceased to 
 fall, and as Sano and his guest rose to open the 
 storm-doors, the sun rose bright and shining on a 
 silvered world. 
 
 The priest went to put on his rain-coat and hat. 
 
 i6i 
 

 " Thank you," he said, " for all the kindness and 
 hospitality you have shown me. I will say good- 
 bye. Now that the storm has ceased, I need tres- 
 pass no longer on your goodness ; I will be getting 
 
 on my way ! ' 
 
 ' Oh," said the knight, " why need you hurry 
 •"* so .'' At least stay one more day with us, for you 
 seem to me no longer a stranger but a friend, and 
 I am loth to see you depart." 
 
 "Thank you," replied the priest, "but I must 
 hurry on. I take my leave, however, with the firm 
 conviction that fate will give us the pleasure of 
 meeting again ere long. Remember my words. 
 Good-bye ! " And thus speaking, with several bows 
 the priest turned from the porch and wended his 
 way through the snow. 
 
 When he had gone the knight remembered that 
 he had forgotten to ask the traveller's name, so 
 he and his wife would probably never know who 
 the sympathetic stranger was. 
 
 The next spring the Government at Kamakura 
 issued a proclamation calling upon all knights to 
 present themselves in battle-array before the Re- 
 gent. When Sano Genzaemon heard of this, he 
 thought that some extraordinary event must have 
 taken place. What it was he could not imagine. 
 But he was a knight and must answer the sum- 
 mons promptly. Here might be the chance of 
 proving his knightly prowess, for which he had 
 
 162 
 
been waiting so long, hidden- away in obscurity 
 and the poverty of his circumstances. The only 
 thing that weighed him down was the thought 
 that he had no money either to buy a new suit of 
 armour or a good horse. No hesitation, however, 
 showed itself in the despatch with which he has- 
 tened to Kamakura, clothed only in his suit of 
 shabby armour, a rusty halberd in hand, and rid- 
 ing an old broken-down horse, unattended by any 
 servant. 
 
 When Sano reached Kamakura, he found the 
 city crowded with warriors who were riding in 
 from all parts of the country. There were thou- 
 sands of great and eminent samurai clothed from 
 head to foot in beautiful armour, their suits, their 
 helmets, and their swords glittering with orna- 
 mentation of silver and gold. It was a goodly 
 sight that the sun shone on that day, framed by 
 the great pine trees against the background of the 
 glimmering sea beyond. The pride of life and race 
 were there, the hauteur of birth and rank, the 
 glory and parade of war, the glinting of helmet 
 and clanking of steel, — every knight's armour 
 was composed of fine metal scales woven and held 
 together by silken threads of ruby, emerald, scarlet, 
 sapphire, *and gold. Each knight wore his favour- 
 ite colour, and as the ranks moved into the sun- 
 light or fell into the shade the whole formed an 
 army of moving splendour, the brilliant and varie- 
 
 163 
 
fl 
 
 ^ 
 
 K- 
 
 s 
 
 gated colouring of which was like a river of rich 
 and magnificent brocade. 
 
 As Sano, clothed in his shabby armour and rid- 
 ing his broken-down horse, rode in amongst the 
 bright phalanx of warriors, how they all jeered 
 and scoffed at him and his horse ! But Sano cared 
 little for their scorn, the consciousness that he 
 was a samurai as good as most of them bore him 
 up, and he laughed to himself at their pride and 
 swagger. 
 
 "These men wear fine armour, it is true," he 
 said to himself, "but they have lost the true 
 samurai spirit ; their hearts are corrupt or they 
 would not glory so in appearance ; though my 
 armour cannot compare with theirs, yet in loyalty 
 I can never be outdone, even by them, braggers 
 though they be." 
 
 As these thoughts passed through his mind, 
 Sano saw a herald approaching the gay concourse 
 of knights. He rode a richly caparisoned horse, 
 and he held aloft a banner bearing the house-crest 
 of the Regent. The warriors, their armour and 
 their swords clanging as they moved, parted to 
 the right and left, leaving a road for him to pass. 
 As he rode up their lines he called aloud : " The 
 Regent summons to his presence the knight who 
 wears the shabbiest armour and who rides the 
 most broken-down horse! " 
 
 When Sano heard these words he thought : 
 
 164 
 
" There is no soldier here but myself clothed in 
 old armour. Alas ! the Governor will reprimand 
 me for daring to appear in such a state. It can't 
 be helped ; come what will, I obey the summons -^ 
 such is my duty ! " 
 
 So with a sinking heart Sano, the dilapidated 
 knight, followed the herald to the Governor's 
 house. Here the messenger announced that the 
 knight Sano Genzaemon had come in answer to 
 the proclamation summoning the poorest-clothed 
 knight to the Regent. 
 
 " I am the poorest knight here, so the required 
 man can be none other than myself," said Sano, 
 as he bowed low to the retainers who came out to 
 receive him at the porch. 
 
 Sano was then ushered along endless corridors 
 and through spacious rooms. At last the ushering 
 officer knelt on the polished wood outside a large 
 room, and, pushing back the white paper screen, 
 told him to enter. The knight found himself in 
 the presence of the handsome young General To- 
 kimune. On his head he wore a helmet with golden 
 horns and the small plates of his armour were 
 woven together with silken thteads of scarlet. 
 The young General bowed to the knight in an- 
 swer to his prostrations and said ; " Are you the 
 knight Sano Genzaemon Tsuneyo ? " 
 
 " Yes, I am he," answered Sano. 
 
 "Then," answered the young man, "I have to 
 
 165 
 

 present you to some one ! " and he made a sign to 
 an attendant. 
 
 Upon this the servant pushed open the screens 
 of an inner room, and the Regent Saimyoji Toki- 
 yori, who had been reported dead for a year, was 
 revealed, magnificently dressed in his robes of 
 ofiSce. Over his armour he wore a sacerdotal robe 
 of rich brocade, and on his head a white head- 
 dress. 
 
 Bewildered by all the strange things that were 
 happening to him, and fearful of he knew not 
 what, the knight had kept his face to the ground. 
 He heard the rattle of armour and the swish of 
 heavy silk moving towards him over the mats, and 
 he wondered if it were not all a dream. 
 
 Then a voice said : " Oh, Sano Genzaemon — 
 is it you .'' It is long since I saw you ! Look up ! 
 Don't be afraid ! Don't you know me ? " 
 
 The poor knight knew at once that he had 
 heard that voice before, and at last found courage 
 to raise his head and to look at the resplendent 
 figure that addressed him. 
 
 An exclamation of surprise burst from the lips 
 of Sano, for he recognized in the personage who 
 addressed him the priest whom he had sheltered 
 on the night of the great snowstorm a year agone. 
 
 " You are surely," said Sano after a pause, " the 
 travelling priest who passed that night of the great 
 snowstorm under my roof last year, are you not ? " 
 
 1 66 
 
" Yes, I am that priest, and also I am the Re- 
 gent Saimyoji Tokiyori." 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimeci Sano, bowing to the ground, 
 " pardon my rudeness to you that night, for I did 
 not know who my august visitor was," and his 
 heart filled with fear at the remembrance of his 
 unceremonious behaviour on that occasion. 
 
 Then the ex-Regent spoke again, and this time 
 solemnly : " Sir Sano, you have no need to apolo- 
 gize, far from that. Do you remember what you 
 said to me that night when the snowstorm took 
 me to your house? You told me that through 
 imfortunate circumstances you were now obliged 
 to work like a farmer, yet if ever the occasion 
 arose that should sound the call of knights to 
 arms, you would, regardless of your shabby ac- 
 coutrements, answer the summons and come forth. 
 in the spirit of a samurai to do glorious deeds 
 worthy of your sword once more before you died ! 
 Herewith I give you back the thirty villages in 
 the district of Sano, of which you were robbed by 
 your unworthy kinsman. And do you think I 
 have forgotten your kind action when you burned 
 your precious trees, the last relics of your prosper- 
 ous past, to minister to my comfort during that 
 terrible storm 1 The glow of that fire remains in 
 my heart to this day. By way of expressing my 
 thanks for your hospitality that cold and dreary 
 night, in return for the Matsu [pine tree], I am 
 
 167 
 
 m 
 

 going to give you the village of Matsu-ida, in the 
 province of Kodzuke; in the place of the Ume 
 [plum tree], the village of Umeda, in the province 
 of Kaga ; and for the Sakura [cherry tree], you 
 shall have Sakurai, a village in the province of 
 Etchiu." 
 
 As the knight listened to these golden words 
 of fortune, which dropped like jewels from the 
 mouth of the beneficent Regent, it seemed to him 
 as if he must be dreaming, it was all so unex- 
 pected. He could not speak, for the tears rose to 
 his eyes, and sobs of joy choked his utterance. 
 When at last he looked up, he was alone. He 
 made his way out of the mansion as in a trance, 
 oblivious of all around him. The news of his pro- 
 motion and of the favour he enjoyed in the estima- 
 tion of the Regent had already spread outside, and 
 the men who had laughed and jeered at him be- 
 fore now smiled graciously and bowed respectfully 
 as he passed along the ranks. 
 
 So Sano Genzaemon returned to Kodzuke, not 
 as a poor farmer, but as a lord under the special 
 favour of the Regent, having won the esteem of all 
 his countrymen by his knightly conduct in adver- 
 sity. 
 
 All rejoiced that faithfulness, honesty, and kind- 
 ness had received their just reward, and none more 
 than the good Regent Tokiyori. 
 
SHIRAGIKU, OR WHITE CHRYS- 
 ANTHEMUM 
 
y\ 
 
 SHIRAGIKU, OR WHITE CHRYS- 
 ANTHEMUM 
 
 ON the outskirts of a remote village at the 
 foot of Mount Aso, in Kiushiu, a bell was 
 slowly pealing from a Buddhist temple. It was 
 the season of autumn and the twilight was falling 
 fast. Over the lonely place and the gloom of the 
 deepening dusk of night the solemn music, rever- 
 berating across the hills, seemed to toll the tran- 
 sientness of all things earthly. 
 
 Not far from the temple was a small cottage. 
 At the door stood a young girl anxiously waiting 
 for her father to come home. From time to time 
 she wiped away the tears which fell from her eyes, 
 and her face and attitude expressed great sorrow. 
 She was but fifteen years of age, and as she stood 
 there, a young and slender figure, she looked like 
 a cherry-blossom of spring in the falling rain. 
 
 She was alone, for her father had gone out to 
 hunt some days before and had never returned, 
 and she had had no tidings whatever of him since. 
 She and her father were all in all to each other ; her 
 mother was dead and her elder brother was only a 
 
 171 
 
fl 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 name to her ; she could not remember him ; he had 
 run away from home when she was a small child, 
 and no one knew what had become of him since. 
 
 As White Chrysanthemum, her heart full of 
 sorrow and foreboding, watched and waited for 
 her father's return, she started at everything, — 
 at the leaves falling from the trees, at the sighing 
 of the wind in their branches, at the dropping of 
 the water from the bamboo pipe which brought 
 the hill-stream to the house; as these different 
 sounds from time to time caught her ear expecta- 
 tion made her hope that they might be the foot- 
 steps of her father coming home. But the hours 
 passed by and still he did not return. 
 
 As the mists rose and the clouds began to close 
 over the mountain, the loneliness of the scene was 
 deepened by the plaint of insects chirruping in 
 the grass, and by the slow pattering on the broad 
 banana palm leaves of the rain just beginning to 
 fall. 
 
 At last the dreariness and stillness of approach- 
 ing night oppressed the girl so much that she 
 could bear it no longer, and she made up her mind 
 to go in search of her father. 
 
 It was a sad sight to see her as she ran out 
 from the bamboo gate and turned to give a last 
 look at the little home nestling in the shelter of 
 the pine trees. Then resolutely she turned away 
 and set her face towards the mountain path. On 
 
 172 
 
her head she wore a large mushroom-shaped rain- 
 hat, and with a stick in her hand she began to > 
 climb up the rough thorny pass into the depths of j'\ 
 the mountains, as they towered range upon range 
 one above the other and were lost in the distance 
 and blackness of night. 
 
 The rain fell more and more heavily, and as the 
 girl stumbled up the steep pass she had often to 
 wring her sleeves, which were now wet with rain 
 as well as with tears. So absorbed was White 
 Chrysanthemum in the thought of finding heir 
 father, whom she had watched climb this very 
 road three mornings before, that she hardly no- 
 ticed that the storm gave signs of lifting. Sud- 
 denly the rain ceased, the clouds cleared, and the 
 moon shone brightly. The change in the weather 
 at last roused the girl to look about her, and she 
 saw that the path now led her downward to the 
 valley. With a sigh of relief she quickened her 
 pace. 
 
 She had walked for about two hours when she 
 saw at some distance in front of her a single yel- 
 low ray of light shining through the gloom. Had 
 she come to a house where she might possibly 
 hear tidings of her father ? As this hope dawned 
 upon her, she eagerly hastened towards the light. 
 
 She soon reached an old Buddhist temple stand- 
 ing in the shadow of a group of pines and crypto- 
 merias. From within came a voice chanting the 
 
 173 
 

 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 Buddhist scriptures. Who could it be studying in 
 so remote a place at that hour of the night ? 
 
 Shiragiku entered the gate and in the moon- 
 light which made everything visible saw that the 
 whole place was in a dilapidated condition ; the 
 fence was falling in many places, weeds grew all 
 over the garden and between the flagstones, as if 
 no one ever trod the path ; even the posts which 
 supported the gate shook in the wind. 
 
 White Chrysanthemum walked up to the porch 
 and knocked on the heavy wooden door. Not 
 until she had knocked and called several times 
 did she hear any stir within ; then some one an- 
 swered in a subdued voice, the storm-shutters were 
 pushed aside, and a young bonze appeared. He 
 started when his eyes fell upon the girl, and he 
 stared at her silently as if wondering who she could 
 be or what had brought her there at that hour. 
 
 Shiragiku, seeing his scrutiny, drew near and 
 said in a low sweet voice : "I am looking for my 
 father. He went out hunting some days ago and 
 has never come back. I am indeed sorry to 
 trouble you, but will you be so kind as to tell me 
 if any one has come to this temple either for rest 
 or food within the last two or three days ? " 
 
 The girl spoke so quietly and looked at him so 
 gently that the young bonze was reassured in a 
 moment. Her evident distress appealed to him, 
 and when he looked at her again he saw that she 
 
 174 
 
was as beautiful as a flower ; her skin was white ^yg 
 as snow, her jet-black hair, disordered by the ^T3 
 storm through which she had passed, fell like i'V 
 the graceful branches of a willow tree over her 
 shoulders ; her large almond eyes were sad and 
 full of tears, and as he gazed upon her it seemed 
 to him that she could not belong to the earth, 
 that she must be a tennin — an angel from the 
 Buddhist Heaven. He asked her to enter the 
 temple and said : " Tell me who you are and 
 whence you come, and what brings you out this 
 stormy night. I will listen to your story if you 
 will tell it to me." 
 
 The wind had risen again and was blowing in 
 gusts round the temple and whistling through the 
 chinks and crannies of the old building, while 
 from the garden came the mournful cries of an 
 owl. The desolation and strangeness of the place 
 touched the girl's sorrow to the quick, and she 
 burst into tears. As soon as she was able to 
 speak, she wiped her eyes and said between her 
 sobs : " I am the daughter of a certain samurai of 
 Kumamoto City. Our house was once rich and 
 prosperous, and our hearts were full of joy; we 
 lived happily, knowing nothing whatever of care 
 or sorrow. When the war' broke out all was 
 changed ; the grass round our house was stained 
 with blood, and even the wind smelt of blood; 
 
 ' The war of the Restoration. 
 
 175 
 

 families were scattered far and wide from the 
 homes where they were born, and the air was rent 
 with the cries of parents seeking their lost chil- 
 dren and of children calling for their parents who 
 could no longer hear themi Pity is no word to ex- 
 press the feeling which filled the heart at these 
 sights. My father likewise went to the war, and 
 my mother then escaped with me as far as Mount 
 Aso. There she found a tiny cottage in the 
 shadow of the temple, and with the money she 
 had managed to bring with her we lived as best 
 we could. As we were afterward told, my father 
 fought with the rebels. When we heard that, we 
 were greatly astonished, and our sleeves were 
 never dry with wiping away our tears. Day by 
 day, morning, noon, and night, we waited, hoping 
 that my father would return — thus the summer 
 passed. Autumn came and the wild geese flew 
 across the sky in flocks toward the south, but 
 there came no news of my father. My mother 
 pined away with grief and anxiety, till at last she 
 died. Thus before we knew whether my father 
 was alive or dead, I was left alone in life. I felt 
 as if I were dreaming in a dream. Whenever I 
 think of that time my heart is pierced with sor- 
 row. My days were passed in weeping at my mis- 
 fortunes and in bemoaning my unhappy fate. Had 
 it not been for the kindness of neighbours in the 
 village, I should not have been able to live. 
 176 
 
% 
 
 " Last spring my father came back and found 
 me out. I told him of my mother's death. Since 
 then he has never ceased to grieve. I tried to i'V 
 cheer him by telling him that it was the fate of 
 all mortals to die, but my words brought him little 
 comfort, and in this sad way we passed our time. 
 The other day he went out hunting, and since 
 then has never returned. Again, I was left alone 
 with no one to look to for help. Unable to bear 
 the loneliness any longer, I started out this even- 
 ing to look for him and have come thus far. Our 
 family name is Honda, my name is Shiragiku, my 
 father's name is Akitoshi, my mother's name was 
 Take, and my elder brother's Akihide. I can 
 hardly remember Akihide, for when I was a small 
 child he ran away, fearing my father's anger be- 
 cause of his bad conduct. But though he left us, 
 my mother and I never forgot him. In the morn- 
 ing when it rained and in the winter evenings 
 when the wind blew chill we longed for him to 
 come again to the shelter of his home, but from 
 that day to this we have heard nothing of him and 
 know not what has become of him. My mother 
 gave me many messages for him, firmly believing 
 that one day we should meet again, and that he 
 would yet fulfil his duty as a son and restore our 
 house to its former prosperity and happiness. In 
 this hope she died." 
 
 As Shiragiku proceeded with her story the 
 
 177 
 

 young bonze listened with eager attention. At 
 these words his face changed with sudden emo- 
 tion, and the tears fell from his eyes. After some 
 moments he said to her : " Poor, poor girl ! Your 
 story is a very sad one, and I feel for you in your 
 many troubles. You can go no further to-night; 
 rest here in peace until the dawn!" 
 
 As he spoke it seemed to Shiragiku that his 
 voice was familiar to her, and though she could 
 not remember having seen him before, yet for 
 some unaccountable reason she felt that he was 
 no stranger. His manner was so kind and gentle 
 and sympathetic as he went and came bringing 
 food for her supper and quilts for her to sleep 
 upon, that memories of her early home and child- 
 hood stirred her heart. Her thoughts went out to 
 the runaway brother; if he would only return he 
 would be about the same age as the young bonze, 
 and surely as good as he to any one in distress. 
 Glad was she to have found a place of rest for 
 the night. With many humble prostrations she 
 thanked her host for his hospitality, and apologized 
 for all the trouble she had given him. 
 
 When he withdrew, bidding her "good-night," 
 she knelt in supplication before the shrine at the 
 end of the room, where Amida Buddha and Kwan- 
 non, the Goddess of Mercy, reigned in peace 
 above the lotus and the burning of incense. Only 
 through the mercy of the gods could she hope to 
 
 178 
 
find her father, only through their help would her 
 long-lost brother ever come back to those who . 
 waited for him year after year. For many minutes y\ 
 she knelt on, praying earnestly, then, worn out 
 with grief and fatigue, she rose from her knees 
 and lay down to fall fast asleep. 
 
 At the hour when the hush of night is deepest, 
 Shiragiku saw her father enter the room and draw 
 near her pillow. The tears stood in his eyes and 
 in a sad voice he said : " Shiragiku, I have fallen 
 over a precipice, and now I am at the bottom of a 
 chasm many hundred feet deep. Here the bram- 
 bles and bamboo grass grow so thick that I am 
 unable to find my way out of the jungle. I may 
 not live till the morrow, so I came to see you for 
 the last time in this world." 
 
 As soon as he had finished speaking. White 
 Chrysanthemum stretched out her hands and tried 
 to catch hold of his sleeves to detain him, crying : 
 " Father ! father ! " But with the sound of her 
 own voice she awoke. 
 
 She sprang up expecting to see her father, 
 but there was nothing in the room except the 
 night-lantern glimmering faintly. While she was 
 wondering whether the vision were a dream or 
 a reality, the dawn began to break and the 
 beating of a drum throbbed through the temple. 
 White Chrysanthemum rose soon after sunrise, 
 ate the simple breakfast of rice and bean-soup she 
 
 179 
 
a 
 
 ^ 
 
 ■^ 
 
 « 
 
 found slipped into her room, and quickly left the 
 temple. She did not wait to see the kind priest, 
 though he had asked her to do so, saying that he 
 would do what he could to help her ; for she had 
 remembered his diffidence the night before, and 
 thought that very likely he belonged to a sect 
 which forbade its priests to converse with the world, 
 and she felt sorry that she had disturbed him. 
 
 Her dream was so vividly real to her that it 
 seemed as if she heard her father calling to her 
 for help ; so making all possible speed she set out 
 once more with the faith and simplicity of child- 
 hood to find him. Far off in the woods the bark 
 of a fox could be heard, while along the path the 
 cloudy tufts of the odana ' rustled as she passed. 
 Shiragiku shivered as the cold morning wind 
 pierced through her body. As she pursued her 
 way along the rough mountain pass wild creatures 
 scuttled away, frightened, from before her into 
 the woods, and overhead the birds sang to each 
 other in the trees. 
 
 At last she reached the top of the pass, to find 
 it covered with clouds, and it seemed to White 
 Chrysanthemum as if they must carry her away 
 with them in their onward sweep. She sat down 
 on a stone to recover her breath, for the climb 
 had been steep. In a few minutes the mists be- 
 gan to clear away. She stood up and looked about 
 
 ' An autumn grass {Miscanthus sinetisis). 
 1 80 
 
her, hoping that she might find some trace of her 
 father, but as far as eye could reach nothing but . 
 mountains, range after range, could be seen riding j\ 
 one above the other in the blue sky. 
 
 Suddenly a noise in the bushes behind her 
 made White Chrysanthemum start, and before she 
 could flee a band of robbers rushed out upon her. 
 They seized and bound her tightly. She cried out 
 for help, but only the echoes answered her. Down 
 the mountain they led her till they reached the 
 valley ; for a whole day they hurried her along till 
 they came to a strange-looking house. 
 
 This was in such a neglected condition that 
 moss covered the walls, and it was so closely shut 
 up that the sunbeams never entered the rooms. 
 As they approached the place, a man who seemed 
 to be the chief of the band came out, and as he 
 caught sight of the maiden, said with an evil smile : 
 " You 've brought a good prize this time ! " 
 
 The robbers now untied Shiragiku's hands and 
 led her into the house and then into a room where 
 dinner was prepared, with rice and fish and wine 
 in great quantities. Then they all sat down, and 
 as they began to eat, it seemed to her that they 
 were a lot of demons. The chief passed some food 
 to her and pressed her to eat. The long walk in 
 the bracing air of the autumn day had made Shi- 
 ragiku so hungry that in spite of her fear and dis- 
 tress she was glad of the food. At last, when she 
 
 i8i 
 

 had finished her meal, he turned to her and said : 
 " That you 've been caught by my men and brought 
 here must be the work of fate. So now you must 
 look upon me as your husband and serve me all 
 your life. I have a good koto [the Japanese harp] 
 which I keep with great care, and to show your 
 gratitude for this marriage you will have to play 
 before me often and to cheer me with your songs, 
 for I am fond of music. If you refuse to obey me, 
 I will make your life as hard as climbing a moun- 
 tain of swords or walking through a forest of 
 needles." 
 
 Shiragiku felt that she would rather die than 
 marry this man, but she could not refuse to play 
 the koto for him. The koto was brought by one of 
 the men at a word of command from the chief and 
 placed before the girl, who began to strike the 
 chords, her tears falling fast the while. She played 
 so well that even those hard-hearted robbers were 
 touched by her music, and one or two of them 
 whispered together that hers was a hard fate and 
 they wished that they could find some means of 
 saving her. 
 
 Outside the house in the shadow of a large tree 
 stood a young man, watching all that went on and 
 listening to the music. By the voice of the singer 
 as she sang, he knew that the player was she 
 whom he sought. No sooner did the music stop 
 than he rushed into the house and attacked the 
 
 182 
 
robbers with great fury. Anger gave strength to 
 his onslaught, and the bandits were so taken by . 
 surprise that they were paralyzed with fear and y\ 
 offered no resistance. In a few minutes the chief 
 was killed, while two others lay senseless on the 
 mats, and the rest ran away. 
 
 Then the young man, who was dressed in the 
 black vestments of a priest, took the trembling 
 girl by the hand and led her to a window, through 
 which the moonlight streamed. As Shiragiku 
 gazed up in gratitude and wonder at her deliverer, 
 she saw that he was none other than the young 
 priest of the temple, who had been so kind to her 
 the night before. 
 
 " Don't be afraid ! " he said quietly and sooth- 
 ingly ; " don't be afraid ! I am no stranger, I am 
 your brother Akihide. Now I will tell you my 
 story, so listen to me. You cannot remember me, 
 for you were only a little child of three when my 
 bad conduct roused my father's anger and I ran 
 away from home and started for the capital. I 
 embarked on a small vessel and after sailing along 
 for several days I reached Waka-no-ura, passing 
 the island of Awaji on the way. From Waka-no- 
 ura I proceeded on foot. It was the close of 
 spring and the cherry-blossoms were falling, and 
 the ground was covered with the pink snow of 
 their petals; but there. was nothing of the joy of 
 spring in my heart, which was heavy at the thought 
 
 183 
 
a 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 s 
 
 of my parents' displeasure and the fearful step I 
 had just taken. As soon as I reached the capital, 
 I put myself under the charge of a priest and went 
 through a severe course of study, for I had already 
 repented of my idle ways and longed to do better. 
 Under my good master's guidance I learned the 
 way of virtue. My heart was softened by know- 
 ledge, and when I remembered the love of my 
 parents, I regretted my evil past and never did 
 the sun go down but I wept in secret over it. So 
 the years went by. At last the pain of homesick- 
 ness became so great that I determined to return 
 home and beg my parents' forgiveness. I hoped 
 and planned to devote myself to them in their old 
 age and to make amends in the future for the 
 shortcomings of the past. But insurmountable 
 difificulties beset me in my new-formed purpose. 
 War had broken out, and the face of the country 
 was entirely changed. Cities were turned into 
 wildernesses, weeds grew tall and thick all over 
 the roads, and, when I reached our province it was 
 impossible to find either the old home or any one 
 who could give me the slightest clue as to the 
 whereabouts of you all. Life became a burden to 
 me. You may imagine something of what I felt, 
 but my tongue fails to describe my misery. I was 
 desolate with no one belonging to me, so I re- 
 solved to forsake the world and become a priest, 
 and after wandering about I took up my abode in 
 184 
 
that old temple where you found me. But even 
 the religious life could not still my remorse. I 
 was haunted by the fear of what had become of i"^ 
 my father and mother and sister. Were they alive 
 or were they dead ? Should I ever see them again ? 
 These were the questions which tormented me 
 ceaselessly. Morning and evening I prayed before 
 the shrine in the room where you slept last night 
 — prayed that I might have news of you all. 
 Great is the mercy of Buddha ! Imagine the min- 
 gled joy and sorrow I felt when you came yester- 
 day and told me of all that had happened since I 
 left home. I was about to make myself known to 
 you, but I was too ashamed to do so. It was, how- 
 ever, harder for me to conceal my secret than it 
 would have been to tell it, for I longed to do so 
 with my whole heart and soul. In the morning 
 when I came to the room and found you gone, I 
 followed after you in fear lest you should fall into 
 the hands of the bandits who haunt these hills and 
 thus it was that I saved you. You can never know 
 how glad I am to have done this for you, but alas 1 
 I am ashamed to meet my father because of the 
 remembrance of the. past! Had I done my duty as 
 a son, had I never run away wickedly from home, 
 how much suffering I might have saved my mother 
 and you, poor Shiragiku ! Terrible indeed is my 
 sin ! " And with these words the young man drew 
 out a short sword and was about to take his own life. 
 
 i8s 
 

 When Shiragiku saw what he was going to do, 
 she gave a loud cry, and springing to his side seized 
 his hands with all her strength, and stopped him 
 from doing the dread deed. With tender sisterly 
 words she tried to comfort him, telling him that 
 she knew his father had forgiven him, and was liv- 
 ing in the daily hope of his return — that the hap- 
 piness and solace he could now give him in his old 
 age would more than atone for the past ; she begged 
 him to remember his mother's dying prayer that 
 he would establish their house and keep up the 
 ancestral rites before the family shrine when his 
 parents were dead. As she spoke, he desisted from 
 his desperate purpose. The peace of night and the 
 stillness of the moonlit world around them brought 
 balm to both their troubled hearts, and as they 
 bade each other good-night the silence was un- 
 broken save for the cry of the wild geese as they 
 flew across the sky. 
 
 In the early morning the brother and sister left 
 the house, hand in hand. They had not gone far 
 when they heard pursuing footsteps, and looking 
 back they saw two or three of the men who had 
 escaped the night before coming after them. 
 Akihide bade his sister run for her life, while he 
 stayed behind and engaged the robbers in a fight , 
 and so gave her time to escape. 
 
 Shiragiku did as she was told and fled through 
 the woods under cover of the trees. On and on she 
 
 1 86 
 
went, till at last she reached a place of safety out 
 of sight. But her heart, beating wildly with fear, 
 was behind with her brother, wondering what had j'\ 
 happened to him, whether he had vanquished the 
 bandits or had been killed by them. Who can de- 
 scribe her anxiety ? She had found her brother 
 only to lose him in this sad and uncertain way. 
 Afraid to retrace her steps, yet anxious to know 
 what had become of him, she climbed to the near- 
 est hill-top to try if she could see anything of him, 
 but around her there was nothing but hills and 
 pine woods. 
 
 As she looked about her, she saw near by a 
 little shrine, and, overcome with the terror of all 
 that had befallen her within the last two days, she 
 made her way towards it with trembling steps, 
 and kneeling down offered up a fervent prayer for 
 help and for her brother's and father's safety. 
 
 An old man who was cutting down trees in the 
 forest saw her weeping there, and his heart filled 
 with pity for the young girl. He drew near and 
 asked her to tell him what was the matter. On 
 hearing her sad story he led her to his home, say- 
 ing that he would take care of her. 
 
 It was a quiet mountain place in the woods. 
 The ground was covered with pine needles, the 
 chrysanthemums round the humble cottage were 
 fading, and the bell-insects were feebly tinkling in 
 the grass, for the last days of autumn were passing. 
 
 187 
 
a 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 Here in this retired spot Shiragiku lived in 
 peace. The old wood-cutter and his wife, having 
 no children of their own, loved her as a daughter, 
 for such she seemed to them, so amiable, patient, 
 and helpful in all her ways was she, and they told 
 her that they hoped she would remain with them 
 to the end of their days. Shiragiku did her utmost 
 to show her gratitude to the old couple for their 
 kindness to her, but she never ceased to think of 
 her father and brother and to look forward to the 
 time when they would once more be a united 
 family. In spite of all discouragements she cher- 
 ished this hope. Now and again she implored the 
 old man to let her go and look for them ; but he 
 would not permit this, saying that it was not safe 
 for an unprotected girl to roam the hills, that if 
 she did so she would be sure to fall into the hands 
 of robbers again, and that it was far wiser for her 
 to wait till her father and brother found her than 
 for her to seek them, not knowing where they were. 
 Her reverence for old age made her obey him, and 
 she waited in patience, hoping each day she rose 
 that her father and brother would find her before 
 the evening came. 
 
 During these quiet years she grew in beauty day 
 by day and passed from girlhood into the bloom 
 of early womanhood. The poor cotton robe — all 
 that the wood-cutter could give her — in no wise 
 hid her loveliness. She was like a fine chrysanthe- 
 
 i88 
 
mum shining among the wild flowers of the 
 plain. 
 
 She was soon the acknowledged beauty of the J'\ 
 place, and one spring the village chief sought her 
 in marriage. The wood-cutter, out of respect to 
 the suitor's position, at once gave his consent. 
 
 When, however, the old man told Shiragiku of 
 what he planned for her, her dismay was great. 
 She begged him with tears to make excuses for 
 her ; she told him that she could not think of mar- 
 riage till she had found her father. But he would 
 not listen, saying that it was the best thing for 
 her now to be settled in life. 
 
 That night the girl covered her face with her 
 sleeves and wept long and bitterly when she lay 
 down to rest. 
 
 " How can I obey the old man .' " she sobbed 
 to herself. " No, never — never ! I remember now 
 more vividly than ever what my mother told me 
 when she was dying. ' You are not my own child, 
 Shiragiku,' she said ; ' one day many years ago I 
 was returning from a visit to a temple. When 
 passing through a field, I found a little baby cry- 
 ing in the midst of some white chrysanthemums. 
 Who can have been so wicked as to forsake such 
 a lovely child ? I said to myself ; there must be 
 some reason for this ! I carried the little one home 
 and brought her up as my own child. You are that 
 child. Praying for blessings on you, I named you 
 
 189 
 
n 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 Shira-Giku, because I found you in a bed of white 
 chrysanthemums. There is also something else I 
 must tell you before I die. There is some one in 
 the world to whom you must look as your brother 
 and husband ; he is none other than our son, who 
 ran away rather than meet the anger of his father. 
 We have never heard of him since he left, but if 
 he is still living I am sure he will come back to 
 his family. Your father and I — your adopted par- 
 ents — have always destined you for him ; it is my 
 last behest that you should refuse all other men 
 and wait to marry our son, for come back I am 
 sure he will one day ; then live a happy life to- 
 gether in the old home, praying for our souls when 
 we have left this world.' My mother's words are 
 still in my ears. I hear them more clearly than 
 ever," she sobbed to herself. " I owe her my life ; 
 how can I disobey her bidding.? And yet how can 
 I refuse to do as the old wood-cutter asks, for he 
 has been as a parent to me these last three years ? 
 What shall I do .? Oh ! what shall I do .? " 
 
 Day by day the old man pressed her to accept 
 the suitor and day by day in great perplexity she 
 put him off. At last, seeing no way of escape from 
 being unfilial to the memory of her mother and 
 from fulfilling the old man's wish, she made up 
 her mind to die and put an end to the struggle. 
 
 At this time the nakodo (go-between) of the 
 marriage came and presented her with a roll of 
 
 190 
 
brocade for the obi (wide sash) and of damask silk 
 for the kimono, the betrothal gift of the bride- 
 groom. The old man and his wife rejoiced at what f\ 
 they considered her good fortune and regarded 
 the matter as settled, and the neighbours came to 
 congratulate them and to catch a glimpse of the 
 chosen bride of their chief. 
 
 Shiragiku, however, had made up her mind. 
 That night during a rainstorm she stole out from 
 the wood-cutter's cottage. She looked bg-ck wist- 
 fully many times at the place which had fed and 
 sheltered her for so long; but she told herself that 
 there was no other way than this, for she must 
 hold as sacred law her mother's last behest. In 
 the despair of the last few weeks, when this unex- 
 pected marriage was being forced upon her, she 
 had lost the hope of finding her father and brother 
 again; but she would die rather than marry a 
 stranger against her foster mother's dying wish. 
 
 The night was dark, for the sky was clouded. 
 Down the empty street of the village Shiragiku 
 hurried with the tightly closed thatch-roofed cot- 
 tages on either side. Out across the silent stretches 
 of rice-fields she ran till she reached the blackness 
 of a pine wood, seeking for some spot where she 
 could die. 
 
 The roar of water at last reached her ears, and 
 she knew that she had come to a river. The moan- 
 ing of the wind in the pine trees sounded to her 
 
 191 
 

 like the voices of pursuers. She stopped to look 
 around, but there was no one to be seen. The 
 path leading down to the river grew rougher and 
 darker as she entered the shadow of the trees, but 
 Shiragiku never faltered in her determination to 
 reach its bank. At last the water glimmered like 
 a wide white ribbon in the gloom of night. 
 
 " I will now die," said Shiragiku, weeping ; " but 
 alas ! how sad my father and brother will be when 
 they hear of my death. Forgive me," she cried 
 aloud, "oh, my father, oh, elder brother, that I 
 die first. I will await your coming beside my 
 mother in Heaven." 
 
 Shiragiku now reached the edge of the bank 
 and was about to dash down into the river with a 
 prayer to Buddha on her lips when she found her- 
 self caught from behind and a familiar voice said 
 to her : " Wait a moment ! Tell me who you are 
 and why you seek to take your life." 
 
 It was her brother Akihide. She gazed up at 
 him in the dim light of the moon just coming forth 
 from the clouds. They both clasped each other by 
 the arms and burst into tears. 
 
 "Little sister!" "Elder brother!" cried the 
 sister and brother both together in that shock of 
 simultaneous recognition. In the speechless mo- 
 ments which followed they heard the sound of a 
 flute from the village near by break the silence of 
 the night — they watched the rain cease and the 
 
 192 
 
SHIRAGIKU WAS ABOUT TO DASH DOWN INTO THE RIVER 
 
stars shine out one by one. Akihide led Shiragiku ^& 
 to a large stone ; here they sat down and told ^^ 
 each other all that had happened since they last / \ 
 parted. 
 
 While they were talking the day broke; to- 
 gether they watched the sun rise in splendour and 
 glisten and glow in thousands of rain-drops on the 
 trees and grass around them. 
 
 " Let us go and tell the kind old wood-cutter 
 and his wife all that has happened," said White 
 Chrysanthemum, smiling through her tears ; " I 
 must bid him farewell and we must thank him, for 
 indeed I owe him my life." 
 
 They walked to the village and went at once to 
 the old man and told him their story. Shiragiku 
 begged him to forgive her for not doing as he 
 wished. Then Akihide told him that it had been 
 his mother's dying wish that he should marry 
 White Chrysanthemum and keep up the family 
 name. With tears the brother and sister thanked 
 the old couple for their ever-to-be-remembered 
 kindness to White Chrysanthemum in her dis- 
 tress. They promised to come and see them when- 
 ever they could and to let them know all that 
 happened to them in the future, a promise which 
 they faithfully kept. They at last took leave with 
 many gentle words on both sides. 
 
 Then Akihide and Shiragiku began a happy 
 journey homewards, walking over the hills by day, 
 
 193 
 
fl 
 
 ^ 
 
 ir 
 « 
 
 and passing the night at some farmhouse or cot- 
 tage they came to on their way. 
 
 When the brother and foster sister reached the 
 Uttle house in the valley at the foot of Mount Aso, 
 it was early in the month of May ; the cuckoos 
 were singing, and the air was fragrant with the 
 scent of orange-blossoms. In spite of the years 
 of desertion and negledt, the tiny home still stood 
 safe and firm as when Shiragiku had left it, though 
 the grass had grown tall and thick in the garden 
 and moss covered the roof. The sun was shining 
 brightly over all, and the balm and gladness of 
 the spring morning rested on their young souls. 
 
 For a moment White Chrysanthemum paused 
 at the bamboo gate and said : " This is our home, 
 elder brother ! " Then quickly they ran down the 
 garden, quickly they pushed back the paper screen 
 of the entrance and entered. Were they waking 
 or were they dreaming? Who should they see 
 coming forward to meet them but their father, 
 whom they had almost given up as dead. For a 
 moment they were all silent. It seemed as if their 
 hearts must burst with inexpressible joy. 
 
 "Father ! Father ! " cried Akihide and Shiragiku 
 together, " is it really you.? Are you safe and well? " 
 
 " Children, my children ! " cried the astonished 
 father, " have I found you at last ? " 
 
 Then Akihide knelt before his father, and with 
 his face bowed to the ground, confessed every- 
 
 194 
 
thing, and begged his father's forgiveness for the 
 past. He told him all — how bitterly he had re- 
 pented his behaviour, how hard he had tried to J'\ 
 make a new life for himself, how long he had 
 searched for his parents in vain, his one wish be- 
 ing to make amends, how wonderfully he had met 
 Shiragiku when he had at last despaired of ever 
 finding any one of his family again, of all that had 
 happened since her coming to the temple. 
 
 The father listened gravely to the long sad story; 
 then with gentle words he forgave his son ; he 
 bade him to cease all self-reproach, and as he spoke 
 the kind words his eyes grew dark with unshed 
 tears. When Shiragiku told her story he com- 
 mended her filial piety, her courage, and her pa- 
 tience. Now that they had as by a miracle of the 
 gods found each other again, nothing should ever 
 separate them. 
 
 Thus the little family found again the vanished 
 happiness of other years. 
 
 Shiragiku now busied herself preparing the even- 
 ing meal, and as she filled her father's and her 
 brother's wine-cup the father told them all that 
 had happened to him. 
 
 " When I went out hunting three years ago, I 
 fell over a precipice, and found myself at the bot- 
 tom of a chasm a hundred or more feet deep. I 
 was quite unable to get out, so I lived on wild 
 fruits and stream water for many days. 
 
 195 
 

 " One morning I chanced to see a band of monkeys 
 climbing the chasm by means of a large wistaria- 
 vine which formed a bridge from side to side. I 
 foUdwed their example and soon found myself free 
 on the hillside once more. I returned here with all 
 haste, only to find that Shiragiku had disappeared. 
 Imagine my distress. I inquired of every one in 
 the village, but no one had seen her go away, and 
 there was no one who could tell me anything about 
 her. There was but one thing left for me to do and 
 that was to try and find her. So I set out walking 
 through province after province, looking for her, 
 but all in vain. At last I gave up my quest as hope- 
 less and returned here only yesterday." 
 
 The joy of the little family was great beyond all 
 words. This unexpected meeting — the utmost de- 
 sire of their souls — was a happiness which took away 
 their breath and left them silent with wonder and 
 thankfulness. Only one thing saddened them — that 
 the good mother, who had died of grief and anxiety, 
 could not be present to share in this joyous re- 
 union, and to know that her prayer was answered 
 and that the long-lost son had returned to his 
 family. But she was not forgotten — they spoke of 
 her and missed her. Shiragiku rose and opened the 
 little shrine standing in a closed recess at the end 
 of the room, and taking some sticks of incense set 
 them burning before the name-tablet set up in 
 memory of her mother ; for though Shiragiku now 
 
 196 
 
knew that she was not really her own mother, yet 
 she always thought of her as such, for she had 
 known no other. Father and son and adopted J\ 
 daughter then knelt and with hands clasped and 
 bowed heads prayed before the little altar. 
 
 Shiragiku now fetched and tuned her koto (harp) 
 and sang the songs she knew her father liked to 
 hear. This done, she accompanied her brother, 
 while he paced through some stately measures of 
 the classic dance. The father, calling Akihide and 
 Shiragiku to his side, told them that he wished 
 them to marry, as his wife had always planned. 
 He was now an old man, he said, and could not ex- 
 pect to live much longer, and before his death it 
 was his ardent wish to see his house established. 
 He then named an early date for the wedding. 
 Akihide, having only entered upon a religious novi- 
 tiate, was able to obey his father without breaking 
 any vows. He bowed his willingness and Shira- 
 giku blushed happily. She was content in fulfilling 
 her good foster mother's last behest. 
 
 Now the sun set, a crane cried on the hill at 
 the back of the house, and the stars came out one 
 by one in the soft and darkening turquoise of a 
 May twilight, and peace and joy reigned in the 
 home and the hearts of the three wanderers. 
 
THE PRINCESS OF THE BOWL 
 
tl 
 
 THE PRINCESS OF THE BOWL 
 
 LONG, long ago, in old Japan, there lived near 
 Katano, in the Kawachi Province, a prince 
 named Bitchu-no-Kami Minetaka or Lord Minetaka, 
 as we should say in English. He was not only a very 
 wealthy man, but it was reported that his house 
 was full of rare and wonderful treasures. He was 
 also a learned man and the master of many accom- 
 plishments. His life was passed in the luxurious 
 leisure of the rich, and he knew nothing of care or 
 want — perhaps he hardly realized what such words 
 meant. 
 
 But above all the treasures in his storehouse, 
 beyond the wealth of his revenue which came pour- 
 ing in year by year in bushels of rice, he prized 
 his only child, his daughter. The prince and 
 his wife brought this daughter up with great 
 love and tenderness as if she were some rare flower 
 or fragile butterfly. So beautiful indeed was the 
 young girl that in looking at her their friends 
 and relations wondered whether the Sun Goddess 
 Amaterasu had not come to earth again in the 
 form of the little Princess. 
 
 20 1 
 

 Nothing came to mar the happiness of this united 
 little family till the daughter was fifteen years of 
 age. Then suddenly the mother, who had never 
 known a day's illness in her whole life, was taken 
 ill. At first it seemed to be but a slight cold, but 
 her health, instead of getting better, only grew 
 worse and worse. She felt that she would never 
 recover and that her end was very near, so she 
 called her daughter beside her pillow, and, taking 
 a large lacquer bowl from the bedside, she placed 
 it on her daughter's head, saying : " My poor 
 little child, I want you always to wear this bowl. 
 At your innocent age you can understand nothing 
 of the world in which I must leave you mother- 
 less. I pity you with all my heart ; ah ! if you 
 were at least seventeen or eighteen years old I 
 could die with more peace of mind. I am indeed 
 loath to go, leaving you behind so young. Try 
 to be a good daughter and never forget your 
 mother." 
 
 The woman's tears fell fast as she spoke, and 
 her voice was broken with sobs while she stroked 
 her little girl's hand. But things are not as one 
 wishes in this life. All the doctor's skill could not 
 save the mother ; she died and left her daughter 
 behind motherless in the world. 
 
 Words cannot tell the grief of the bereaved 
 father and child, it was so great. At last, after 
 some time had passed and the ordinary routine of 
 
 202 
 
life in Prince Minetaka's household was resumed, 
 the father noticed the bowl which his daughter 
 wore on her head and which fell so low as com- j\^ 
 pletely to hide her face ; and calling her to him 
 tried to take off the unsightly head gear. But his 
 efforts were in vain. All the retainers and then 
 the servants were summoned to see what they 
 could do, but no one could remove the bowl ; it 
 stuck fast to the child's head. No one could un- 
 derstand the mystery. The bowl had been put on 
 most simply ; why could it not be as easily taken 
 off .? This was the question which the whole house- 
 hold asked again and again. 
 
 And the young Princess, besides sorrowing for 
 the loss of her mother, was greatly troubled at 
 the knowledge that, though born physically per- 
 fect, she was now quite disfigured for life in hav- 
 ing to wear the ugly bowl which her mother for 
 some unknown reason had placed on her head. If 
 no one succeeded in taking the bowl off, she might 
 have to wear it her whole life. That would indeed 
 be a terrible affliction. But in spite of allshe never 
 forgot her mother even for a moment, but carried 
 in her heart the memory of her love and care 
 through every hour of the livelong day. Every 
 morning, as soon as she rose from her bed on the 
 mats, she placed the little cup of tea and the bowl 
 of rice before the tablet bearing her mother's name 
 in the household shrine, and having set the incense 
 
 203 
 

 burning she would kneel and pray for the happi- 
 ness of her mother's soul. 
 
 The days passed into weeks, the weeks grew 
 into months, yet the dutiful daughter never failed 
 morning or evening thus to pray for her lost 
 mother. 
 
 In the mean time the family relations often 
 came to advise her father, Prince Minetaka, to 
 marry again. 
 
 " It is not good for you to be alone," they said. 
 " Marry a suitable woman and entrust her with 
 the keeping of your house and the care of your 
 young daughter, who is now of an age when she 
 most needs a woman's care." 
 
 At first Prince Minetaka would not listen to 
 them, the memory of his dead wife was too fresh 
 and his sorrow too keen for him to be able to lend 
 a willing ear to their persuasion. He felt that it 
 was a reproach to her he had loved even to think 
 of putting another woman in her place. But as the 
 months went by he found himself much tried with 
 the affairs of the household, and was often so per- 
 plexed that he thought perhaps it might be better 
 to listen to the advice of his meddling relations. 
 So without thinking much about the future he de- 
 cided to take a second wife. 
 
 His friends were glad to find that their persua- 
 sions were of avail at last, and with the help of 
 go-betweens they arranged that he should marry 
 
 204 
 
a certain lady of noble family whom they deemed 
 worthy and suitable in all respects. 
 
 So the soothsayers were consulted and a lucky j^ 
 day chosen for the marriage, and the new wife was 
 then installed in Prince Minetaka's home amidst 
 the congratulations of both families. The little 
 Princess alone was sorrowful in her inmost heart 
 at seeing some one take her mother's place ; but 
 it would be unfilial to her father to show that for 
 one instant she did not approve of his second 
 marriage, so she hid her unhappiness and smiled. 
 
 On seeing the little Princess for the first time, 
 the stepmother was shocked at the deformity of 
 the bowl, and said to herself that never had she 
 even dreamed that there could be any one in the 
 world doomed to be such an ugly cripple. She not 
 only despised but hated her stepchild from the 
 moment that she saw her. This new wife was in- 
 deed a very different woman from her predecessor, 
 whose heart was so good and kind towards all who 
 came near her that the idea of disliking, much less 
 hating any one was impossible to her. 
 
 A year passed by and the stepmother gave birth 
 to a child. Jealousy for her own infant daughter 
 now made her hate her stepchild more and more. 
 It was her great desire to see her own daughter 
 first in Prince Minetaka's affection, and in order to 
 attain her utterly selfish end she knew she must 
 oust her stepchild from the house. To begin with, 
 
 205 
 
3 
 
 she determined to estrange the father from the 
 little Princess by telling him unfavourable stories 
 of her behaviour and her character. It is needless 
 to say that she invented these stories. 
 
 The Bowl-Wearing Princess soon understood 
 that her stepmother hated her. Her grief and 
 anxiety seemed to her more than she could bear. 
 There was no one in the house in whom she could 
 confide, and she knew that to complain of her step- 
 mother to any one, even to her father, would be 
 undutiful. What was she to do in her trouble ? To 
 whom could she go but to her own mother ? So as 
 often as she could she went to her grave. Here she 
 would kneel and pour out the woe that filled her 
 heart. 
 
 "O mother, why must I live on in the world 
 with this ugly bowl on my head .-' My stepmother 
 truly has a reason for hating such a child about 
 the house. Now that she has a daughter of her 
 own, all the more must she want to get rid of me ! 
 And my father, who used to love me so much, he 
 too will surely soon give all his love to his new 
 daughter and forget me ! Alas ! Alas ! the only 
 place that is left to me to come to without fear of 
 dislike is the side of my own dead mother. O 
 mother, sitting upon the lotus leaves in Paradise, 
 receive me now upon the same leaf. Oh ! that I 
 might thus escape the sorrow of this world and 
 enter upon the way of Buddha! " 
 
 206 
 
But the Boundary of Life and Death separated 
 the mother and child, and though she prayed ear- 
 nestly and with tears, lifting her whole heart and "tl 
 soul up in her despair, no answer came to her 
 eagerly listening ear. As she knelt in the little 
 graveyard only the sound of the wind sighing in 
 the pine trees answered her. But the thought that 
 she had told her mother everything comforted her 
 as she returned home. 
 
 The stepmother was told of her stepdaughter's 
 frequent visits to the graveyard, and instead of 
 being touched with pity for the motherless girl, 
 she made use of the occasion still further to slan- 
 der the child to her husband. 
 
 " I am told that the Bowl-Wearer, your daugh- 
 ter, goes to her mother's grave and curses me and 
 my child because of her jealousy ! What do you 
 think of that .-' Has n't she a wicked heart ? " 
 
 Day by day she watched the little girl wend her 
 way from the house to the graveyard and day by 
 day she repeated in her husband's ear her pre- 
 tended fears. In her heart she knew quite well 
 that it was only love and unhappiness that sent 
 her unfortunate stepchild to the grave of her 
 mother. At last she said that she was afraid of the 
 evil that might befall her and her child through 
 the Bowl- Wearer's malice ; she had decided that 
 they could no longer live together in the same 
 house. 
 
 307 
 
3 
 
 The father, who had hitherto never Ustened 
 much to his wife's tales, was at last persuaded by 
 her importunity into believing them true. So in 
 an evil hour he summoned his daughter and said : 
 " What is this I hear, wicked daughter ? Your de- 
 formity has long since been a source of irritation 
 to me, but as long as you behaved well, I put up 
 with it. Now I am told that you go every day to 
 the grave of your mother to curse my wife and 
 her innocent little child. It is impossible for me to 
 keep under my roof any one who is so crippled not 
 only in body but in mind as you are. Go wher- 
 ever you will from to-day, but longer in this house 
 you shall not stay ! " 
 
 While the father was speaking these terrible 
 words the stepmother sat behind him, smiling in 
 derision at the poor little Princess and in triumph 
 at the success of her wicked stratagem. 
 
 "Woe to the Bowl- Wearing Princess! " 
 
 The servants, at the command of her father, 
 took off her silken robes and put on her a miserable 
 common cotton gown, such as beggars wear, and 
 drove her out into the road. 
 
 The Princess was altogether bewildered at the 
 suddenness of her misfortune. 
 
 She felt like a wanderer in an unknown land, 
 lost in the darkness of night. So distracted was 
 she at first that she could only stand still in the 
 middle of the street, not knowing which way to 
 
 208 
 
turn. But people, passing by, stared at her so that 
 she soon realized that she must not stand like that 
 all day, so she began to move whither her feet led /L 
 her. 
 
 In this way she came to the bank of a large 
 river. As she stood and looked at the flowing water, 
 she could not help thinking that it would be far 
 better for her to become the dust of the river-bed 
 than endure the hardships of her present lot. 
 Would it not be better to die and so join her mother 
 than wander about like a beggar from place to 
 place begging her rice ? With this thought she 
 made up her mind to drown herself. But the roar 
 of the river was so great as it dashed over the 
 boulders of its rocky bed that the maiden hesitated 
 at first. Then, summoning up all her courage with 
 a desperate effort, she jumped in. 
 
 Strange to say, however, the bowl, which had 
 hitherto been such a curse to her, was now a bless- 
 ing. It lifted her head clear above the water and 
 would not let her sink. As she floated down the 
 stream a fishing-boat came by. The fisherman, 
 seeing a big bowl rising out of the water, lifted it 
 up. His surprise was great when underneath the 
 bowl he found a human being. Thinking it to be 
 some strange monster, he threw it upon the bank. 
 
 The poor girl was at first stunned by her fall. 
 When she came to herself, she said that it was a 
 pity she could not die as she had wished. She got 
 
 209 
 

 
 up from the ground and, in a miserable plight, for 
 her clothes were dripping with water, began to 
 walk on, and after some time she found herself in 
 the streets of a town. 
 
 Here the people, as soon as they saw her, began 
 to point the finger of scorn at her, and to jeer and 
 laugh at the strange-looking bowl on her head. 
 
 " Oh ! oh ! do you see this queer creature with 
 the bowl coming down from the mountains .'' Look ! 
 Look ! " Then as some of them came nearer they 
 said: "It is strange that a monster should have 
 such beautiful hands and feet. What a pity this 
 creature was not born a woman ! " 
 
 Just then the lord of the district passed by on 
 his way home from the hunt. Seeing the gather- 
 ing of people, he stopped and inquired what was the 
 matter. His retainers pointed out the Bowl- Wearer 
 to him. From the grace of her slender form, and 
 the modesty of her bearing. Lord Yamakage judged 
 her to be a young woman, though he could not of 
 course see her face, which was completely hidden 
 by the bowl. He ordered the Bowl-Wearer to be 
 brought to him. Two or three of his retainers 
 went to execute his orders, and came back bring- 
 ing the poor unhappy Princess with them. 
 
 " Tell me the truth," said Lord Yamakage to 
 the girl ; " who or what are you ? " 
 
 " I am the daughter of one Minetaka by name, 
 and my home is near Katano. My mother, when 
 
 2IO 
 
dying, placed this bowl on my head, and since her 
 death it has become so firmly fixed there that no 
 one can take it off, and I am obliged to wear it /L 
 always, as you see me now. Because of the un- 
 sightliness of my appearance I have been driven 
 away from my home. No one takes pity on me, 
 and I am forced to wander from place to place with- 
 out knowing where to lay my head at night." 
 
 "Well, well! " said the kind man. " Your story is 
 truly a pitiful one. I will take the bowl off for you ! ' ' 
 
 When he had said these words, Lord Yamakage 
 ordered his retainers to pull off the bowl from the 
 girl's head. The men, one and all, tried to free the 
 Princess from the obnoxious bowl, but it stuck so 
 obstinately to her head that all their efforts were 
 useless. It even uttered loud cries and groans of 
 pain as they tugged at it. Every one was dumb- 
 founded at the inexplicable mystery, and at last 
 they all began to laugh. 
 
 When Lord Yamakage saw that there was no- 
 thing to be done to help her, he spoke to the Bowl- 
 Wearer again. "Where are you going to spend 
 to-night?" 
 
 " I am quite homeless," answered the Bowl- 
 Wearer, in a heartbroken way, " and I do not know 
 where I shall lay my head to-night. There is no 
 one in the wide world to take pity on me, and every 
 one who sees me either jeers or runs away because 
 of the bowl on my head." 
 
 211 
 
Lord Yamakage felt his heart fill with pity and 
 said : " It may bring luck to have such a strange 
 creature in my house ! " Then he turned to the girl 
 and said : "How would you like to come home 
 with me for the present, Bowl-Wearer ?" 
 
 And with these words he gave her in charge of 
 his attendants, who took her with them to their 
 lord's house. 
 
 It was an easy matter to take her to the house, 
 but not so easy to find her a place there. His wife 
 objected to her becoming a waiting-maid, saying 
 that no one could bear the sight of so strange a 
 creature about. So the servants at last took her 
 to the bath-room, and told her that she must fetch 
 and carry the water and look after the fire for 
 heating the bath. This was to be her work ! 
 
 As the little Princess had never done such rough 
 work in the whole of her life, she suffered much 
 in obeying these cruel orders; but she resigned 
 herself to her fate and tried with all humility and 
 patience to perform her hard task faultlessly. 
 
 But her lot was far from being a happy one, 
 even though she had found the safe shelter of 
 Lord Yamakage's home. The young and uncouth 
 tradesmen, coming on errands to the house, made 
 fun of her, some even trying to peep under the 
 bowl to get a glimpse of the beautiful face beneath. 
 While she was thus_ persecuted in the daytime, in 
 the evening the servants gave her no rest with 
 
 212 
 
their peremptory orders. " Hot water here ! " 
 " Cold water there ! " " Get the bath ready 1 " and 
 so on. 
 
 The poor girl bore all this rude usage patiently ; 
 but as she went about her work she could not 
 help remembering the old times of her happy 
 childhood, spent under the loving care of her own 
 dear mother, of the honoured place she had held 
 in her father's household till within the last few 
 days ; and as she carried the hot water or stoked 
 the bath-fire she pretended that those fast-falling 
 tears of sadness were caused by the fumes of 
 charcoal and the steam which rose from the hot 
 water. When she crept weeping to bed at night 
 it seemed to her as if the past day must be an evil 
 dream. 
 
 Lord Yamakage had four sons. The three 
 elder ones were married to daughters of three of 
 the leading men of the province. The youngest 
 son, Saisho, was still unmarried. He had been 
 away for some time in the gay smart capital of 
 Kyoto. But now he returned to his home. 
 
 Now every time he went to take his bath or 
 called for hot water, he saw the Bowl-Wearing 
 maiden, and, as he had a kind and compassionate 
 heart, he could not but be touched by her unhappy 
 appearance, and her modest and gentle behaviour 
 and her quickness and diligence at her work. 
 
 Whenever he had an opportunity he spoke to 
 
 213 
 
 ■fl 
 

 the Bowl-Wearer, and to his surprise he found 
 that she was no servant, that she spoke in the re- 
 fined language of his class, and though so young 
 she was well read in the literature and poetry of 
 her country, and could answer a literary allusion 
 wittily and to the point. When at last she told 
 him something of her sad story, he knew, though 
 she did not tell him, that she belonged to some 
 family of high rank. From this time on he often 
 spoke to the girl, and he found that the stolen 
 conversations with her grew to be the chief pleas- 
 ure of the day. 
 
 One day he managed to take a sly peep under 
 the bowl. The face, even though overshadowed 
 by the huge cover, was of such rare beauty that 
 he fell madly in love with the Princess, and made 
 up his mind that none other than the Bowl- Wearer 
 should be his wife. 
 
 His mother soon heard of Saisho's friendship 
 for her husband's protdge, and when she learned 
 that he had promised to marry her she forbade 
 him to think of such a thing. She at first thought 
 that her son could not be in earnest, but when she 
 sent for Saisho and asked him seriously if what 
 she had been told was true, he answered : " I 
 really and truly intend to make the Bowl- Wearer 
 my wife ! " 
 
 His mother was not a little angry at his deter- 
 mined front. How could Saisho fall in love with 
 
 214 
 
a girl with a bowl on her head ? Who ever heard 
 of such ridiculous nonsense ? 
 
 Then she sent for her son's nurse, the woman /L 
 who had nursed him from the day he was born, 
 and together they tried to deter him from his pur- 
 pose. 
 
 Saisho was obliged to listen to all they had to 
 say, but did not answer them. He could not say 
 " Yes " to their demand that he should give up all 
 idea of marrying the Bowl- Wearer, and he knew 
 that if he firmly said "No" he would raise up 
 such a storm of opposition that no one could tell 
 how it would end. He knew that the life of the 
 Bowl- Wearer was a truly pitiable one, and his deter- 
 mination to marry her and help her out of all her 
 difficulties remained unchanged. His mother soon 
 saw that her son would by no means listen to her 
 persuasions, and her anger was great towards the 
 Bowl-Wearer. She almost made up her mind to 
 drive her from the bouse before her husband could 
 know what happened. 
 
 Saisho, on hearing this, told her that if the girl 
 was driven away he would go with her. The 
 mother's distraction can be imagined, for she was 
 thwarted in every way. She at last said that the 
 Bowl-Wearer was a wicked witch who had thrown 
 her spells over Saisho and would not leave him 
 till she had compassed his death. 
 
 She determined if possible to separate them by 
 
 215 
 
fl 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 fair means or foul. For a long time she pondered 
 over the matter, and at last hit upon a stratagem 
 which she trusted would rid the house of the presence 
 of the obnoxious girl. Her plan she called "The 
 Comparison of the Brides." She would hold in 
 the house a family council of all the relations, and 
 assemble the wives of her three elder sons, and 
 before the whole gathering compare them with the 
 Bowl-Wearer whom Saisho had elected to marry. 
 If the Bowl- Wearer had any self-respect she would 
 be too conscious of her deformity and her poverty, 
 and too ashamed to make an appearance, — would 
 leave the house to escape from the ordeal. What 
 an excellent plan ! Why had she never thought 
 of this before ? 
 
 So the mother sent messengers post-haste to all 
 the family and relations, requesting their presence 
 at a " Bride Comparing Ceremony " and a feast 
 which would close the ceremony. 
 
 When Saisho heard of this he was greatly 
 troubled, for he knew what it meant. His mother 
 meant to drive the girl he loved from the house by 
 comparing her with his brothers' rich and pretty 
 wives. What was to be done.? How could he help 
 the poor Bowl- Wearer ? 
 
 The little Princess saw how unhappy he was, 
 and blamed herself, she was so sorry for him. 
 
 " It is all, because of me that this trouble has 
 come to you. Instead of happiness I have only 
 
 216 
 
brought you worry. Woe is me ! It is better that 
 I go away at once," said the girl. 
 
 Saisho told her at once that he would never let /L 
 her go alone; that if she went he would go with her. 
 
 At last the day fixed for the ceremony of the 
 •' Comparison of the Brides " came round. Saisho 
 and .the unhappy little Bowl-Wearer rose before 
 the dawn, and taking i each other by the hand left 
 the house together. 
 
 Notwithstanding his love for the Bowl- Wearer 
 and his resolve to marry her at whatever cost, 
 Saisho was very sad at the thought of leaving his 
 parents in this way. He told himself that they 
 would never forgive his obstinacy and probably 
 would refuse to see him again, so this parting was 
 probably forever. He felt at each step as if his 
 heart was torn backwards. With slow steps he 
 and the Bowl- Wearer, hand in hand, wended their 
 way down the garden. No sooner, however, did 
 they put their feet outside the gate than the bowl 
 on the girl's head burst with a loud noise and fell 
 in a thousand pieces upon the ground. 
 
 What untold joy for both of them! Saisho, too 
 astonished to speak, looked for the first time full 
 on the girl's face. The beauty of the damsel was 
 so dazzling that he could compare it only to the 
 glory of the full moon as it rides triumphantly 
 above the clouds on the fifteenth night of Septem- 
 ber. Her figure, too, now that the dwarfing bowl 
 
 217 
 

 had gone, was more graceful than anything he 
 had ever seen. The young lovers, too happy for 
 words at this unexpected deliverance, could do 
 nothing but gaze at each other. 
 
 The mother's purpose in covering her daugh- 
 ter's head with the hideous bowl was at last made 
 clear. Fearing that her daughter's beauty would 
 prove to be a peril to her, with no mother to watch 
 dver her, she had hidden it thus, and the intensity 
 of her wish had assumed supernatural power, so 
 that all attempts to remove it were useless till the 
 moment came when it was no longer needed ; then 
 it broke off of its own accord. 
 
 At last the lovers stooped to pick up the pieces 
 of the bowl, when to their amazement they found 
 the ground strewn with treasures and all that a 
 bride could possibly need for her portion. There 
 were many gold kanzashi (ornamental pins for the 
 hair), silver wine-cups, many precious stones and 
 gold coins, and a wedding-garment of twelve folded 
 kimono, and a hakama of brilliant scarlet brocade. 
 
 " Oh, surely," said the Princess, " these treas- 
 ures must be what my mother prepared for my 
 marriage portion. Indeed a mother's tender love 
 is above everything ! " 
 
 She wept with mingled feelings of joy and pain, 
 — pain of the remembrance of her mother and 
 joy at her present unlooked-for deliverance and the 
 certainty of future happiness. 
 
 218 
 
% 
 
 Saisho told her that there was now no need for 
 her to leave the house. She was not only a richly- 
 dowered bride, but now that her face was no longer /L 
 hidden by the hideous bowl, so beautiful that even 
 a king would be proud to wed her. She need no 
 longer fear to be present at the coming ceremony 
 and feast. So they both turned back, and hastened 
 to prepare for the trial which awaited the Bowl- 
 Wearer, but Bowl- Wearer now no longer. 
 
 As soon as day broke, the house was full of 
 movement, servants hurrying to and fro to usher 
 in and wait upon the relations, who now began to 
 arrive. The murmur of their chattering was like 
 the sound of breaking waves on a distant shore, 
 and the object of all this talk was nothing else than 
 the poor little Princess. The servants told every 
 one that she was in her room getting ready for the 
 approaching feast, and they all thought it strange 
 that she had not fled away for shame. Little did 
 they dream of all that had happened to her ! 
 
 At last the hour of the " Bride Comparing Cere- 
 mony " arrived. The family and the relations all 
 took their places at the upper end of the big guest- 
 hall of thirty mats. 
 
 First entered the bride of the eldest son. She 
 was only twenty-two years of age, and as it was the 
 season of autumn, she wore a brightly coloured 
 kimono and walked into the room in a stately 
 fashion, with her scarlet hakama trailing over the 
 
 219 
 
a 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 cream mats behind her. Her costume was indeed 
 beautiful to behold! To her parents-in-law she 
 brought gifts of ten rolls of rich silk and two suits 
 of the ceremonial gown called kosode (each kosode 
 consisting of twelve long kimono folded one over 
 the other), all of which she placed on a fine lacquer 
 tray to present them. 
 
 Next came the bride of the second son. She 
 was twenty years of age, and was of the aristo- 
 cratic type of beauty, thin and slender, with a long 
 pale oval face. She wore a heavy siUc robe, and 
 over this a flowing gown of gold brocade. Her 
 hakama was embroidered profusely with crimson 
 plum-blossoms. She came into the room quietly, 
 with a gentle bearing, and offered as her gifts of 
 presentation thirty suits of silk robes to her hus- 
 band's parents. 
 
 Then came the bride of the third son. She was 
 only eighteen years of age. Quite different from 
 the first two proud beauties, she was very pretty 
 and dainty, and though small had more sweetness 
 and charm in her manner than her sisters. Her 
 dress was of rich silk embroidered with cherry- 
 blossoms. She presented thirty pieces of rare and 
 handsome crape to her parents-in-law. 
 
 The three sat side by side in their conscious 
 pride and prosperity, their beauty enhanced by the 
 sheen and splendour of their silken gowns. As the 
 father and mother, uncles and aunts and relations, 
 
 220 
 
all gazed upon them, no one could say who deserved 
 the palm of superiority, for they were all lovely. 
 
 At the lower end of the room, far away from yL 
 every one else, was placed a torn mat. It was the 
 seat destined for the Bowl-Wearer. 
 
 " We have seen the three elder brides of the 
 house, and they are all so handsome and so beau- 
 tifully robed that we are sure there are no women 
 to compare with them in the whole province," said 
 the relations. " Now it is the turn of the Bowl- 
 Wearer, who aspires to marry the youngest son of 
 the house. When she comes in with that ridicu- 
 lous bowl on her head, let us greet her with a burst 
 of laughter ! " 
 
 The roomful of people eagerly waited for the 
 Bowl- Wearer to come, even as the birds sitting on 
 the eaves of a house long for the morning. The 
 three brides were also curious to see the cripple 
 girl of whom they had heard so much. How dared 
 such a creature aspire to become their sister .? they 
 haughtily asked each other. 
 
 But the mother felt differently. She in no wise 
 wished to see the girl appear, for she had arranged 
 this day's ceremony, hoping that the Bowl- Wearer, 
 knowing herself to be a deformed beggar-maid, 
 would be too ashamed to appear before such a grand 
 company and would flee away rather than face the 
 trial. On asking the servants, however, she was 
 told that she was still in the house, and she won- 
 
 221 
 

 dered what the girl could be doing, and almost re- 
 gretted what she had done. 
 
 Lord Yamakage and his wife at last grew impa- 
 tient and sent word to the Bowl- Wearer that she 
 was to hasten, as every one was waiting for her. 
 
 The servants went to the back of the house 
 where the Bowl-Wearer had her little room of 
 three mats, and gave her the message. 
 
 " I am coming now," she answered from within 
 the paper screens. 
 
 The Princess now came out and entered the 
 room of the "Bride Comparing Ceremony," where 
 every one was waiting for her. She was only six- 
 teen years of age, but so beautiful that she re- 
 minded them of the weeping cherry-blossoms in 
 the dew of a spring morning. Her hair was as 
 black as the sheen on a raven's wing, and her face 
 was lovelier far than that of any human being they 
 had ever seen. Her under-robes were of rich white 
 silk, and her upper kimono was purple, embroidered 
 with white and pink plum-blossoms. As the stars 
 pale before the fuller glory of the moon, so the 
 three elder brides shrank into insignificance beside 
 the dazzling beauty of this maiden. 
 
 To all it seemed as if one of the Amatsu Otome 
 (heavenly virgins) who wait upon the Goddess of 
 Mercy had glided into the room. They had ex- 
 pected to see a poverty-stricken girl with a large 
 bowl stuck upside down on the top of her head, 
 
 222 
 
and they were lost in astonishment when they be- 
 held the Princess in all the radiance of her love- 
 liness and the splendour of her rich clothes. yj. 
 
 The Princess was about to sit down in the seat 
 left for her, but Lord Yamakage made a place for 
 her beside his wife, saying that he could not allow 
 her to sit in such a lowly spot. She now presented 
 to her father-in-law a silver wine-cup on a gold 
 pedestal, with one hundred rye (old yen in gold), 
 and thirty rolls of silk which she brought in on a 
 beautiful tray. To his wife she presented the rarest 
 and most delectable fruit of ancient Japan, Konan 
 oranges and Kempo pears, and one hundred pieces 
 of coloured cloth which she put upon a gold stand. 
 
 In her surpassing beauty, in the grace of her 
 carriage, in the richness of her costume, in the 
 sumptuousness of the gifts to her parents, she left 
 the other brides far and away behind. Speechless 
 with wonder and admiration, every one present 
 could not but gaze at her. Before the Bowl-Wearer 
 had appeared, the three elder brides had seemed 
 beautiful enough, but now the difference was as 
 marked as when a sparkling jewel is placed side 
 by side with a crystal ; and as the crystal suffers 
 from the comparison, so did they. 
 
 Saisho's elder brothers were looking between 
 the cracks of the sliding screens, and they were 
 filled with envy at Saisho and his good fortune in 
 becoming the husband of such a beautiful princess, 
 
 223 
 

 for such they now felt she must be. Not even her 
 rivals could deny that she was bewilderingly fair 
 to look upon; but they whispered among themselves 
 that unless she were skilled in all womanly accom- 
 plishments, for all her beauty she would be no 
 better than a common man's daughter. She must 
 play on the koto at once. No one could perform 
 on that instrument without years of instruction. 
 If they waited till the next day, who knows, she 
 was so clever that she might get Saisho to teach 
 her. So the jealous brides proposed aloud that 
 they should all play a quartette ; the eldest would 
 play the biwa (lute), the second the sho (flute), 
 the third the tsuzumi (a kind of a small drum 
 beaten with the hand), and they asked the Bowl- 
 Wearer to join them and play the koto (harp). 
 
 The Princess, who was very modest, at first re- 
 fused ; but on second thoughts, she said to herself : 
 " They ask me to do this because they wish to try 
 me, thinking me to be ignorant of such accomplish- 
 ments. Well, then, I will play, for my mother 
 taught me." She pulled the koto near her, and 
 slipping the ivory tips on her fingers began to 
 stroke chords. The astonishment of every one was 
 great, for she played with great skill. 
 
 Saisho, who had hidden himself in the room be- 
 hind a lacquer cabinet, and was watching with the 
 utmost eagerness all that went on, could hardly 
 keep in his hiding-place, he was so delighted. 
 
 224 
 
The three brides, who were quite put out of 
 countenance, for their performance could in no 
 wise be compared to that of the little Princess, JTJ^ 
 now proposed that she should write a poem. 
 
 " Write a poem, a tanka [a poem of thirty-one 
 syllables], which shall describe the character of 
 each season, such as the blooming of the peach 
 and the cherry-blossom in the spring, the orange 
 and wistaria in summer, and the beauty of the 
 chrysanthemum in autumn." 
 
 " Oh," said the Bowl-Wearer, " this is indeed a 
 task too difficult for me. Is there nothing else you 
 will give me to do instead of this ? I can take care 
 of the bath-room, and pull up water from the well, 
 and heat the bath. Since this is my daily occupa- 
 tion, how is it possible that I should even know 
 how to write a poem, much less compose one ? " 
 She blushed as she spoke. 
 
 But her rivals insisted, and so at last she took 
 up a poem card and a brush and wrote : — 
 
 Ham wa hana, 
 Natsu wa tachibana, 
 Aki wa kiku, 
 Izure to wakete, 
 Tsuyu ya okuran. 
 
 The cherry-blossom of spring, 
 The orange-flower of summer, 
 The autumn chrysanthemum, 
 Perplexed between them all, 
 Alike on each the dew may fall. 
 
 225 
 

 She showed not the least hesitation in writing 
 these lines, and her handwriting was so beautiful 
 that even the famous Tofu ' and her brush could 
 not have surpassed it. The three brides retired 
 from the room, grumbling and speaking evil of the 
 Bowl-Wearer. 
 
 " She must be a witch," they said. " Probably 
 the spirit of the ancient Tamamono Maye ! " 
 
 Lord Yamakage, now quite pleased with her, 
 handed her a cup of sak^. He gave his full consent 
 to her marrying his son Saisho, and bestowed upon 
 them as a settlement twenty-three hundred cAo of 
 land, together with twenty-four servants to wait 
 upon them, and for their bridal chamber he allotted 
 them the Hall of Bamboos. 
 
 So Saisho and the Bowl- Wearer were at last 
 married, and all their troubles ended. Never was 
 there such a merry wedding, such a lovely bride, 
 or such a happy bridegroom. The days flew into 
 weeks, the weeks flew into months, for the flight 
 of time is unnoticed when one is happy. 
 
 At last one day Saisho said to his wife: "I 
 cannot believe you to be the daughter of a common 
 man. Will you not tell me who your father is ? I 
 should like to know. Whatever wrong you have 
 suffered, why hide your parentage any longer ? " 
 
 The Princess knew that if she told her husband 
 the truth, the name of her cruel stepmother would 
 " Tofu. A lady famous for her beautiful handwriting. 
 
 226 
 
have to be mentioned, and it would be most un- 
 filial to speak of the woman's cruelty, for she was 
 her father's wife, so she decided not to tell Saisho yL 
 to what family she belonged. She made some 
 excuse, saying that he should know all in good 
 time, and begged him to wait a little longer. 
 
 When they had been happily married for a year, 
 she gave birth to a son. The bliss of the faithful 
 young couple now seemed complete. Yet with her 
 ever-growing happiness her thoughts turned more 
 and more to her father. What had happened to 
 him in these past years .? How she longed to show 
 hirn her little son ! She said to herself that if this 
 were granted she would be the happiest woman 
 in the whole world. 
 
 Now let us turn back and see what happened 
 to Lord Minetaka and his wicked wife. As time 
 went on, her vicious disposition only became 
 worse. At last it became so unbearable tha): all 
 the servants took their leave. There was now no 
 one left to care for her child or the house, and the 
 fortunes of the family gradually declined. Lord 
 Minetaka became poorer and poorer. Where once 
 in the days of the first wife there had been sweet 
 peace and harmony, discord now reigned in the 
 house. 
 
 Lord Minetaka grew weary of his life. He de- 
 cided to leave his home and set out on a pilgrim- 
 age. He started at last to wander on foot from 
 
 227 
 

 province to province and from temple to temple, 
 learning from the priests all he could of Buddhist 
 lore. He had plenty of time for reflection ; and no 
 longer harassed by a scolding wife, he began to 
 ponder over his past life. No words can tell how 
 much he regretted having listened to her slander- 
 ous stories about his little daughter ; and when he 
 thought of how he had allowed her to be driven 
 from her home, like an outcast or a beggar, his 
 nights were sleepless. 
 
 He asked himself every day what could have 
 happened to her all this time. He would search 
 for her through the length and the breadth of the 
 land, and if she were still alive, he told himself 
 that he would surely meet with her again. In every 
 temple he came to he prayed that he might find 
 her, wheresoever she might be. On and on he 
 wandered over the country, stopping for the night 
 at the different villages he came to on his way. 
 
 At last he reached the famous Kwannon of the 
 Hatsuse Temple, of the Yamato Province. Kwan- 
 non, the Goddess of Mercy, grants to mortals 
 whatever they need the most, the greatest desire 
 of their hearts. Here Minetaka ardently prayed 
 for his lost daughter, prayed that she might be 
 preserved from all ill, and that Kwannon would 
 mercifully grant them a speedy meeting. 
 
 Saisho and his wife were. devoted to this very 
 temple, and often used to visit it to offer thanks- 
 
 228 
 
giving for their mutual happiness, and to pray for 
 their children. Now this day, as was their wont, 
 they had come with their three little sons and /L 
 some of their retainers. The little boys were 
 beautifully dressed in silk and crape, and the . 
 whole party had the appearance of a nobleman and 
 his retinue. 
 
 The retainers went up the temple steps first to 
 clear the way, and found a pilgrim before the tem- 
 ple shrine lost in earnest prayer. 
 
 "Oh, pilgrim!" they cried, "out of the way! 
 Our lord comes to worship, make way instantly 1 " 
 
 The man, hearing himself spoken to in this way, 
 got up and looked at the approaching party, mov- 
 ing aside at the same time to let them pass. He 
 was travel-stained and worn out with fatigue, and 
 it was easy to see that he was broken down by 
 some sorrow. As the little boys passed him, he 
 looked at them eagerly, and as he did so the tears 
 fell from his eyes. One of the retainers, who 
 thought his behaviour strange, asked the pilgrim 
 why he wept. 
 
 "Those children," answered Lord Minetaka, 
 for it was he, " remind me so much of my daugh- 
 ter, for whom I am searching, that when I looked 
 at their faces the tears fell in spite of myself ; " 
 and he told the man all that had happened, glad 
 for once to find a sympathetic listener on his 
 lonely wanderings. 
 
 229 
 

 When the Princess heard the story, she told the 
 retainers to bring the pilgrim to her. As soon as 
 they led him to her a glance was enough for her 
 to recognize that, aged and emaciated as he was, 
 the pilgrim was none other than her father. 
 
 " I am the Bowl - Wearer ! " she exclaimed 
 quickly, catching hold of her father's sleeve and 
 bursting into tears, overcome with joy and filial 
 affection at this unexpected meeting. 
 
 Saisho congratulated his wife and her father on 
 their happy reunion, and after many bows and 
 salutations on both sides, he said : " I felt sure that 
 my wife was of noble birth, though she always 
 remained silent when I questioned her as to her 
 parentage. Now I understand it all. So, after all, 
 she is the daughter of Lord Minetaka of Katano." 
 
 He then insisted that his father-in-law should 
 give up his wanderings and make his home with 
 them for the rest of his days. 
 
 So Lord Minetaka at last found his good daugh- 
 ter married to one of his own rank, and so happy 
 that even in dreams he could have wished for no- 
 thing better for her. What a joyous home-coming 
 it was that day for the Bowl-Wearer, as she led 
 her father back with her and presented her three 
 little sons to him, and showed him her beautiful 
 home, and told him how good and faithful her 
 husband 'had been to her while she was only the 
 unhappy and despised Bowl-Wearer ! 
 
 230 
 
They all felt that their cup of happiness was 
 full, and lived together more harmoniously than 
 ever, and in their mutual joy all past sorrow was jl^ 
 forgotten. 
 
 Such is the story of the Bowl-Wearing Princess, 
 which is told from grandmother to mother and 
 from mother to daughter in all households in 
 Japan. 
 
THE STORY OF LAZY TARO 
 
THE STORY OF LAZY TARO 
 
 LONG, long ago, in the province of Shinano 
 there lived a lad called Monogusa Tare. Mo- 
 nogusa was not his surname. The word means 
 "lazy," or "good-for-nothing," and he was so 
 nicknamed because by nature he was so lazy that 
 he would not even take the trouble to pick up any- 
 thing that was lying in the way. When the neigh- 
 bours asked him to do something for them, say- 
 ing, " Do this," or " Do that," he would shrug his 
 shoulders and say, "It is really too much bother," 
 and go away without attempting to obey, or even 
 wishing to be kind to those about him. 
 
 At last all turned their backs on him, and would 
 have nothing to do with him. Strange to say, no 
 one knew who his father or mother was, or from 
 where he had come. He seemed to be a waif and 
 stray that had drifted into the province of Shinano, 
 and yet there was an air about him which excited 
 interest and respect. 
 
 But this lazy lad, Monogusa Taro, had his dreams 
 and. ambitions. He wanted to live in a large house. 
 In his imagination he pictured this house like a 
 
 235 
 

 daimio's palace. It was to stand in its own grounds 
 and be closed by four high walls, with large roofed 
 gates opening out on three sides of it. In the park- 
 like garden he would have four miniature lakes, 
 laid out in the four directions, north, south, east, 
 and west, and each pond was to have an island in 
 its centre, and dainty arched bridges were to span 
 the distances between the islands and the shores 
 of the little lakes. And oh ! how beautiful the gar- 
 den should be, with its miniature hills and valleys, 
 its tiny bamboo forests and dwarfed pine trees, its 
 rivulets and dells with little cascades. And he 
 would keep all kinds of singing-birds in the garden, 
 the nightingale and the lark and the cuckoo. And 
 the house itself was to be large, with spacious 
 rooms hung with costly tapestries of brocade, and 
 the ceilings were .to be inlaid with rare wood of 
 fine markings, and the pillars supporting the cor- 
 ridors must 'be adorned with silver and gold. And 
 he would eat off costly trays of lacquer, and the 
 dishes and bowls should be of the finest porcelain, 
 and the servants who glided through the rooms to 
 serve him should be beautiful maidens clothed in 
 silk and crape and brocade, daughters of ancient 
 families, glad to enter his house, so that they might 
 learn the etiquette and manners of a princely house. 
 Such were the day-dreams and visions of Lazy 
 Taro. Once or twice he spoke of these things to 
 a kind neighbour who brought him food and little 
 236 
 
gifts, but he was laughed to scorn for his pains, 
 and so he kept silent henceforth and dreamed only 
 for himself. 
 
 But he had to come down to stern reality. Instead 
 of the grand palace that he dreamed of building, 
 he had to content himself with a little shed by the 
 roadside. Instead of the fine pillars of his vision- 
 ary palace he put up four bamboo posts ; and in 
 . place of the grand walls he hung up pieces of grass 
 matting ; and instead of the fine cream-white mats 
 on which the foot glides softly and noiselessly, he 
 spread a common straw mat. Here Lazy Taro lay 
 day and night doing nothing, neither working nor 
 begging for his living, only dreaming away the 
 hours and building castles in the air of what he 
 would do and have if only he were rich. 
 
 One day a near neighbour who felt sorry for the 
 lad sent him by his servant a present of five rice- 
 dumplings. Lazy Taro was delighted. He was' in 
 one of his dreamy moods and ate up four of them, 
 without thinking what he was about. When he 
 came to the last one, somehow he suddenly felt 
 unwilling to part with it. He held it in his hand, 
 and looked at it for some min\ites. It took him a 
 long time to make up his mind whether he would 
 eat it or keep it. At last he decided to keep it until 
 some one was kind enough to send him some- 
 thing else. Lazy Taro, having made up his mind 
 on this point, lay down on his straw mat again to 
 
 237 
 
 + 
 
a 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 « 
 
 dream away the hours with his foohsh visions of 
 future grandeur and to play with the remaining 
 rice-dumpling which he still held in his hand. He 
 was tossing it up and down when it slipped from 
 his hand and went rolling into the road. 
 
 " How tiresome ! " said Taro, looking after it 
 wistfully as it lay in the dusty road; but he was 
 so terribly lazy that he would not stir out of his 
 place to pick it up. 
 
 " It is too much trouble," said Lazy Taro ; " some 
 one is sure to come along and pick it up for me." 
 
 So he lay in his shed and watched the dumpling 
 in the road. When a dog, however, came along or 
 a crow flew down to steal it, he drove them away 
 by making a noise or by flapping his sleeves at 
 them. 
 
 On the third day after this, the Governor of 
 the District passed by on his way home from hawk- 
 ing. He rode a fine horse and was followed by 
 a number of retainers. Now as Lazy Taro lay 
 in his shed he saw the Governor and his suite 
 coming. 
 
 " Now this is lucky ! " said Taro. He did not 
 care whether the approaching man was the Governor 
 of the Province or a daimio or not. When the Gov- 
 ernor was opposite the door of the hut Taro raised 
 his voice and called out to the rider, asking him 
 to pick up his dumpling and bring it to him. No 
 notice whatever was taken of him. The procession 
 
 238 
 
of riders went slowly by the hut. Then Taro called 
 out still more loudly to make them hear. 
 
 " Ho, there ! " he shouted, " will no one do what 
 I ask.? It can't be much trouble to get down from 
 your horse and pick up that dumpling for me ! " 
 
 Still no one heeded him. 
 
 Then Taro got angry and shouted still more 
 loudly : " What a lazy person you must be ! " 
 
 Thus Taro cirrogantly found fault with others, 
 entirely forgetful of his own laziness, and talked 
 to those older and better than himself in this hate- 
 ful way. Had the Governor, whose attention was 
 now directed to the little shed by the roadside, 
 been an ordinary man, he would have given orders 
 to his men to kill the presumptuous fellow on the 
 spot; for a samurai of high rank in old Japan, 
 in his domain and along the road, possessed the 
 power of life and death over the lower classes. 
 When a lord or any great dignitary rode abroad, the 
 peasants and the farmers bowed themselves in the 
 dust as he passed by. They dared not lift up their 
 heads on pain of death. 
 
 But this Governor was an unusual man, and re- 
 nowned throughout the district for his goodness 
 and mildness of disposition. His curiosity too was 
 aroused at the queer proceeding. He had heard of 
 the strange Monogusa Taro, and he concluded that 
 the boy in the hut must be he. So the Governor 
 got down from his horse, and sitting on a stool that 
 
 239 
 
one of his retainers placed for him opposite the 
 hut, said : "Are you Monogusa Taro of whom the 
 people talk?" 
 
 Taro, not in the least afraid, answered boldly 
 that he was. He did not even move from his posi- 
 tion on the mat to bow to the great man. He be- 
 haved just as indifferently as if he were a lord 
 speaking to a servant. 
 
 " You are indeed an interesting fellow," said 
 the Governor. " Now tell me what do you do to 
 earn a living ? " 
 
 " As my name tells you," answered Lazy Taro, 
 " I do nothing. I lie in this shed night and day. I 
 am Lazy Taro ! " 
 
 " Then you must get little to eat ! " said the Gov- 
 ernor. 
 
 " It is exactly as you say ! " answered Taro ; 
 " when the neighbours bring me food, I eat it ; but 
 when I get nothing I lie in this shed night and day 
 just like this, sometimes for three and four and 
 five days without eating !" 
 
 " I am very sorry for you," said the Governor. 
 " Now if I give you a piece of ground, will you till 
 it and grow your own rice and vegetables ? What 
 you do not want you might sell to the neighbours 
 and so make a little money." 
 
 " You are very kind," answered Taro, "and I 
 thank you ; but it is too much trouble to till the 
 ground to get my own rice. Why should I when I 
 
 240 
 
n 
 
 can get people to give me just enough to live 
 upon ? No, thank you, I beg to be excused." 
 
 "Well," said the Governor, "if you don't like JLm 
 the idea of tilling the ground, I will give you some 
 money to start in business. What do you say to 
 that .? " 
 
 " That would be too much trouble too, so I will 
 remain as I am," said Taro. 
 
 The kind-hearted Governor could not but be as- 
 tonished at the good-for-nothing boy's answer, but 
 he was a man of great patience, and he felt sorry 
 for Monogusa Taro. 
 
 " You are," he said, " as everyone says, the lazi- 
 est man in the whole of Japan. In all my experi- 
 ence of all sorts and conditions of men, never have 
 I come across such a don't-care, happy-go-lucky 
 creature as yourself — but as it is your nature, I 
 suppose there is no help for it. Your condition is 
 a pitiful one. I can't let you starve in my district 
 — which you certainly will do if you go on like 
 this." 
 
 Then the kind-hearted Governor took out a piece 
 of paper from his sleeve, and on this paper with 
 brush and Indian ink he wrote an order to the ef- 
 fect that the people of his dominion of Shinano 
 were to provide Monogusa Taro twice daily with 
 three £-o of rice and a little sak/ once a day to cheer 
 his spirits. Whoever disobeyed the order must quit 
 the district at once. This order the Governor had 
 
 241 
 
3 
 
 published and made known throughout the whole 
 province. 
 
 To the people of the province it seemed a strange 
 command, and they were lost in amazement ; but 
 however strange they thought it, they had to obey 
 the Governor's order. So from that day on Tare 
 was taken care of and fed by his neighbours with 
 rice and sak/ daily. 
 
 Time slipped slowly by in the rustic place, and 
 for three years Taro lived in ease and plenty, as 
 free from care as the birds of the air. To all ap- 
 pearance he was perfectly satisfied with himself and 
 his useless life, and he seemed to desire nothing 
 better. 
 
 At the end of three years the feudal Daimio of 
 Shinano, who always lived in the capital, advertised 
 for a man-servant who was young and strong. 
 One of Taro's kindest neighbours suggested that 
 this was a good opportunity for Taro to make a 
 beginning and that he ought to apply for the place. 
 But others shook their heads and said that Taro 
 was a good-for-nothing fellow, who would never do 
 any good in the world — he would only be a trouble 
 wherever he went. 
 
 "Look," they said, "how he behaved to the 
 good Governor, how he dared — just think of it — 
 to ask that great man to pick up the rice-dumpling 
 he had dropped in the road, because he was too 
 atrociously lazy to move out of his shed to get it 
 
 242 
 
for himself ! Had the Governor been any one else, 
 he would have had him sworded to death on the 
 spot." ^. 
 
 But in spite of all the neighbours' croaking and 
 grumbling, the first man persisted in his idea that 
 the right thing for Taro to do was to try for the 
 place, regardless of opposition. To every one who 
 raised an objection, he answered wisely : " Don't 
 you know the saying that 'Stupid people and 
 scissors depend on the way they are used for their 
 usefulness ' ; so even this Lazy Taro may change 
 for the better if he is taken up to the capital and 
 made to work. Let us all persuade him to go into 
 service, and let him for pity's sake have a fry at 
 something or other. Who knows but this may prove 
 the turning-point in his life.? Taro may yet become 
 a useful hard-working man in time, if he is given 
 his proper chance." 
 
 When the proposal was first made to Taro, he 
 was very unwilling to do as he was told. He said 
 he knew nothing of the ways of a lord's house ; 
 and' how could he work, seeing that he was Lazy 
 Taro, who had never done a stroke of work in his 
 life ? But his . neighbours and friends were deter- 
 mined to make him go. Every day they came to 
 his shed, and talked to him, persuadingly, and at 
 last Taro came round to reason and said that, to 
 please them, he would at any rate go and try to 
 do his best — if he failed, he could n't help it. 
 
 243 
 

 When Taro said this, his friends were deUghted, 
 and said they would help him get ready. They 
 gave him decent clothes in which to make an ap- 
 pearance at the Daimio's house and then some 
 money for the journey. In this way Lazy Taro 
 left the rural province of Shinano, where he had 
 lived for so many years, and started for the capi- 
 tal of Kyoto. Just as Tokyo is the seat of govern- 
 ment nowadays, so Kyoto was in olden times. 
 The Emperor — the Son of Heaven, as he was 
 called — dwelt there in a magnificent palace, and 
 all the great daimios lived near him in state, sur- 
 rounded by their retainers. The streets of the 
 Imperial City were beautifully built and spotlessly 
 clean, and the houses were far grander than Taro 
 had ever dreamed of — with great sloping roofs 
 and picturesque gates and park-like gardens en- 
 closing them. Very different indeed was the capi- 
 tal from the province of Shinano, from which Taro 
 had come. 
 
 The Japanese have a saying, " As different as 
 the moon and the turtle," and what can be more 
 utterly different from the Queen of Night, riding 
 above the clouds in her own bewitching radiance 
 and beauty, attended by innumerable stars, than 
 the mud-burrowing turtle, who may sometimes be 
 seen crawling out from his slime to dry his back 
 in the su^ishine.? As Taro walked through the 
 streets of the city of Kyoto, he thought of the 
 
 244 
 
old proverb, and he said to himself that the Lady 
 Moon was Kyoto and the turtle his old-fashioned 
 Shinano. 
 
 Then he noticed how fair of skin the people he 
 met were, for the citizens of Kyoto are famous for 
 their white complexions ; and some say it is the 
 purity of the water that gives them such fair 
 skins, while others say that they are of a different 
 race from the yellow-skinned people of the rest 
 of Japan. And how elegantly every one was 
 dressed ! 
 
 Taro looked down at himself, and saw how dark 
 his skin was, how long his- nails, and how rough 
 his clothes were. For the first time in his life he 
 felt ashamed of himself, and repented of his past 
 laziness. 
 
 Now he remembered that one of his neighbours 
 in Shinano, kinder and more thoughtful than the 
 rest, had put in his bamboo basket a silken suit 
 of clothes, saying that Taro would be sure to 
 want it in the capital, and that when Taro got on, 
 as he felt sure, somehow or other, that he would, 
 he might pay him back. Recollecting this, Taro 
 stopped at a teahouse and changed his rough cot- 
 ton suit for the silken one. Then he inquired for 
 the residence of Nijo-Dainagon, the Lord of Shi- 
 nano, and having made his way there, he entered 
 the large gate and presented himself at the porch, 
 saying that he had come in answer to an adver- 
 
 245 
 
 + 
 

 tisement of the Lord of Shinano for a servant, 
 and he begged to be made use of. 
 
 When the lord of the house heard that a man 
 had come from his own province to ask for the 
 vacant place in his household, he came out him- 
 self to see Taro, and thanked him for his trouble 
 in coming such a long way. 
 
 " Work well and diligently, and you will not 
 find service in my house hard or bad! " said Lord 
 Nijo. 
 
 Now, strange to relate, from the time that Lazy 
 Taro was taken into the service of this Daimio, a 
 great change came over him. He was from this 
 time forth like another man. He showed great 
 eagerness to please those set over him and worked 
 with great industry. Before any one else was 
 astir in the big household, he arose and swept 
 the garden; he ran errands more quickly than 
 the other servants, and sat up late at night to 
 guard the gate. When Lord Nijo went out, Taro 
 was the first to put his sandals ready, and the 
 most eager to accompany him. So assiduous, so 
 earnest was he in all he did, that his master 
 was much impressed by his faithfulness and 
 industry. 
 
 " How true is the proverb," said the Daimio, 
 " that even the beautiful lotus blooms in the slime 
 of the pond, and that precious gems are found in 
 the sand. Who would have dreamt that this rus- 
 
 246 
 
m 
 
 'tic would turn out to be such a jewel of a servant? 
 This Monogusa Tare is a clever fellow, quite un- 
 like any countryman I have ever seen." ^L» 
 
 In this way Lazy Taro won the favour of his 
 master, who gradually promoted him from the po- 
 sition of a menial servant to the higher service of 
 a retainer. 
 
 One day, soon after his promotion, Taro had 
 been summoned to the inner apartments to wait 
 upon O Hime San, or the Honourable Princess, 
 the Daimio's daughter. As he moved across the 
 room, he fell over the Princess's koto and broke it. 
 
 Now the Japanese have always considered it a 
 virtue to repress their feelings, whether they be 
 feelings of joy or feelings of sorrow. No matter 
 what happens, one must learn to present an im- 
 passive countenance to the world, whether the 
 heart be bounding with joy or withering with pain. 
 Instead of making a display of your emotion, con- 
 trol it and compose a poem or a beautiful sen- 
 tence. Such is the training and etiquette instilled 
 by custom, and more especially amongst the upper 
 classes are these rules rigidly observed. 
 
 Now the Princess was a very high-bom damsel, 
 so, though she was sorely grieved when she saw 
 that Taro had broken her favourite koio, instead 
 of betraying any anger or impatience, she ex- 
 pressed her grief in an impromptu verse and re- 
 peated aloud : — 
 
 247 
 
3 
 
 4f 
 
 Kiyo yori wa 
 [Oh I from to-day] 
 Waga nagusami ni 
 [For my amusement] 
 Nani ka sen ? 
 [What shall I do?] 
 
 Then Taro, wlio was very, very sorry for the 
 
 accident and for the displeasure he knew he must 
 
 have caused the Princess, was moved to the heart, 
 
 and the words of apology and regret suddenly rose 
 
 to his lips, in the form of the second half of the 
 
 Princess's poem, and he said : — 
 
 Kotowari nareba 
 Mono mo Iwarezu. 
 
 This has two meanings, because of the play on 
 the first word kotowari, which means either a 
 broken koto or an excuse. So Taro's couplet meant 
 first that there was indeed good reason for the 
 Princess's sorrow, and that he had no excuse to 
 offer ; and secondly, that as the koto was broken, 
 he had no words wherewith to excuse himself. 
 
 The Daimio was sitting in the adjoining room 
 and heard Taro answer his daughter in verse. His 
 astonishment at finding that Taro was a poet was 
 great. " Certainly, appearances are deceptive," 
 said the Daimio to himself. 
 
 Now the next time that the Daimio went to 
 Court, thinking to amuse the Palace circles with 
 Taro's story, he told them first how he had taken 
 a " potato-digger " (Japanese expression for a 
 
 248 
 
country butnpkin) into his service, and then he 
 told of the progress of the transformation of the ' 
 rough rustic, who had proved himself to be such a mJLm 
 jewel, into a valuable retainei:, and last, and most 
 astonishing of all, how Taro had turned out to be 
 a poet. Every one in the Palace listened to the 
 tale with much interest, and said that Taro's 
 story was like a novel. 
 
 At last this story reached the ears of the Em- 
 peror, who felt interested in the poetical rustic, 
 and he thought that he would like to see Taro ; 
 for literary and poetic talent has always been held 
 in high esteem in Japan and has in a special 
 manner enjoyed royal patronage. The Emperor 
 sent word to Lord Nijo that he was to bring Taro 
 to the Palace. 
 
 So the next time that Lord Nijo went up to the 
 Palace -he ordered Taro to accompany him. So 
 Taro at last had the highest honour that could 
 befall a mortal, for he was commanded to enter 
 the august presence of the Son of Heaven. 
 
 The Emperor sat on a dais behind the closely 
 slatted bamboo blinds, with cords and tassels of 
 gold and purple, so that he could see and not be 
 seen, for he was thought to be too sacred for the 
 eyes of his subjects to fall on him. 
 
 The Daimio Nijo prostrated himself before the 
 throne three times, and then presented Taro. The 
 Emperor, from behind the screen that hid him 
 
 249 
 

 from view, deigned at last to speak, and this is what 
 he said : — 
 
 " I hear that you are a poet. Therefore compose 
 a verse for me on the spot ! " 
 
 Taro obeyed without any hesitation whatsoever. 
 Looking about him for a moment for inspiration, 
 he happened to glance into the garden, where he 
 saw a nightingale alight on a blossoming plum 
 tree, and begin to warble. So he made the nightin- 
 gale and the plum tree the subject of his poem : — 
 
 Uguisu no 
 Nuretaru koe no 
 Kokoyuru wa 
 Ume no hanagasa 
 Mom ya harusame. 
 
 The meaning of this little poem of thirty-one syl- 
 lables is that the nightingale's voice sounds tearful 
 or moist because the flower-umbrella of the plum- 
 blossoms lets through the spring rain, which damps 
 the body of the bird sitting among the branches. 
 
 The Emperor was pleasingly impressed with 
 Taro's talent and facility in expressing his grace- 
 ful thoughts, and addressed him again, saying : " I 
 hear you came from Shinano ? How do you call 
 plum-blossoms [ume-no-/uiMa\ there ? " 
 
 Then Taro answered the royal question again, 
 saying in verse : — 
 
 Shinano ni wa 
 Baika to iu mo 
 Ume no hana 
 250 
 
Miyako no koto wa 
 Ikaga aniran. 
 
 " In Shinano we call the plum-blossom ' baika^ 
 but of what they may call it in the capital I know 
 nothing." 
 
 In this way Taro humbly confessed his ignorance 
 of the ways of the capital. 
 
 " You are indeed a clever poet," said the Em- 
 peror, " and you must be descended from a good 
 family. Tell me who was your father? Do you 
 know ? " 
 
 " I have no ancestors that I know of ! " said 
 Taro. 
 
 " Then I shall command that the Governor of 
 Shinano make inquiries about you," said the Em- 
 peror ; and therewith he commanded his courtiers 
 to despatch a messenger to the far-away province 
 of Shinano, with instructions to find out all he 
 could about Lazy Taro and his parents. 
 
 After some time the Governor of Shinano 
 learned through an old priest who Monogusa Taro 
 really was, and the discovery was a startling one. 
 
 It appeared that many years before, a Prince of 
 the Imperial House had been banished from Court 
 circles and had come to the Temple of Zenkoji 
 in Shinano. The Prince was accompanied by his 
 consort. The royal young couple made this pil- 
 grimage to pray Heaven for a child, for they were 
 both sorrowful at being childless. Their prayers 
 
 251 
 

 were answered by the birth of a son within the 
 year. This son was Taro. When the infant was 
 but three years old, his parents died and the 
 child was left with no one but the old priest to 
 take care of him. When Taro was only seven 
 years old, he strayed away from his guardian and 
 was lost. 
 
 The royal couple had kept their secret well, 
 and the old priest had only discovered who Taro 
 was by finding some letters hidden away behind 
 the Buddhist altar. Taro was the grandson of the 
 Emperor Kusabuka, the second son of the Em- 
 peror Nimmu, the fifty-third Emperor of Japan. 
 Taro's father had been banished for some mis- 
 demeanour at Court, and had hidden himself in 
 disgrace in the rustic province of Shinano in the 
 heart of the country, far from the gay capital and 
 all who knew him. Thus it was that no one knew 
 where Monogusa, Taro had come from, who he 
 was, or anything about him at all, and he had 
 grown up like a common peasant, ignorant of his 
 high estate and the exalted circle to which he 
 belonged. 
 
 You may imagine the surprise of the Emperor 
 when he learned that Taro was descended from 
 the Royal Family. It was no wonder that he had 
 shown such noble qualities as faithful service to 
 his lord and love of poetry. His Majesty now be- 
 stowed upon Taro the highest official rank, and 
 
 252 
 
made him Governor of the provinces of Shinano 
 and Kai. 
 
 Now Monogusa Taro returned to Shinano, the 
 old province which had harboured him in his days 
 of poverty — in great' state he returned. No longer 
 as Lazy Taro, the good-for-nothing rascal who 
 lived in a straw shed, content with living upon the 
 charity of his neighbours and friends, or whoever 
 chose to take pity upon him, but as the new Gov- 
 ernor, the man who through industry and faith- 
 fulness had won the esteem of Lord Nijo, and 
 who through him was presented at Court. Once 
 at Court, his talent for writing verses had aroused 
 the interest of the Emperor, whose inquiries had 
 established his high birth. 
 
 And so, greater than all expectations and more 
 wonderful than dreams, had the trahsformation of 
 Lazy Taro been. No longer a despised beggar by 
 the roadside, he was now an honoured man, created 
 new Lord of the Province by the Emperor. Nor 
 did he now forget in these changed circumstances 
 the kindness that had been shown to him in former 
 times. He repaid and rewarded all those who had 
 ministered to his wants in the days of his vagrancy; 
 he forgot no one — neither those who had given 
 him rice, nor those who had interested themselves 
 in his going to Kyoto, nor those who had prepared 
 him for his jourfiey. He paid a visit to his old friend 
 and benefactor, the ex-Governor, now retired from 
 
 253 
 
fl 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 s 
 
 active service, and took him many handsome gifts. 
 His visions of a fine house were now realized, for 
 he lived in just such a palace as he had seen in his 
 day-dreams by the wayside. The palace had sloping 
 roofs, just as you see in old Japanese pictures; it 
 stood in the midst of beautiful gardens, surrounded 
 by high walls and approached by three large gates. 
 Lord Nijo gave him one of his daughters in mar- 
 riage, and Monogusa Taro lived happily to the 
 great age of one hundred and twenty years, and 
 he left the world beloved, honoured, and lamented 
 by all who knew him. Such is the wonderful and 
 happy-ending story of Lazy Taro. 
 
CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS 
 U . S . A