 CHAPTER XIX of Ancient Tales and Folklore of Japan. Ancient Tales and Folklore of Japan by Richard Gordon Smith How Yogodeyu Won a Battle During the reign of the Emperor Shirakawa, which was between the years 1073 and 1086 AD, there lived a general whose name was Yogodeyu. He had built a fort for himself and his small army in the wilds of Yamato, not far from the mountain of Kasugi, where, about the year 1380, the unfortunate Emperor Godeyu camped among the same rocky fastness and eventually perished. Even today, as one winds in and out of the narrow gorge where the railway passes Kasagi in the Kazuga Valley, one is struck by the extreme wildness of the scenery. Here it was that Yogodeyu built his fort. Some months later he was attacked by his wife's brother, whom he detested and got badly beaten, so much so as to have only some twenty warriors left alive. These he escaped to Kasagi Mountains and hid himself for two days in a cave in fear and trembling that he should be discovered. On the third day, Yogodeyu, finding that he was not pursued, ventured forth to admire the scenery, while thus occupied he saw a bee in a large spider's web, struggling in vain to free itself. Still as it might, it only made things worse. Yogodeyu, feeling sympathy for the bee, relieved it from its captivity and let it fly, saying, Ah, little bee, fly back to liberty and to your hive. I wish I could do the same. It is a pleasure to relieve those in captivity. Even though one is at the mercy of one's enemy, as I am, that night Yogodeyu dreamed that a man dressed in black and yellow saluted him and said, Sir, I have come to tell you that it is my desire to help you and fulfill the resolve which I came to this morning. And who, pray may you be, answered Yogodeyu in his dream, I am the bee whom you released from the spider's web, and deeply grateful, so much so that I have thought out a plan by which you can defeat your enemy and regain your lost fortune. How is it possible for me to defeat my enemy with only a remnant of my force? Some twenty warriors, quote Yogodeyu, it is very simple, was the answer. Follow exactly the instructions I give you and you shall see. But I have no walls behind which the few friends I have can make a show of fighting. It is impossible for me to attack my enemy. The bee smiled and said, You shall not want walls. You shall be attacked, and with the help of some ten millions of the bees of Yamoto, you shall put your enemies to root. Listen, when you have fixed upon the day and the place where you will fight your brother-in-law, build a wooden house, place in it as many hundred empty jars and receptacles as your men can find, so that we bees may come and hide in them. You must live in the house with your twenty and odd men, and manage to let your enemy know where you are, and that you are collecting a force to attack him. It will then not be long before he attacks you. When he does, we bees will come out in our millions and help you. You are sure of victory, fear nothing, but do as I say. As Yogodeyu was about to speak, the bee disappeared, and he awoke from his dream. Deeply impressed, he related it to his men. It was a range that these should split themselves into couples and return to their native province, collect what men they could, and be back at the cave some thirty days later. Yogodeyu went off alone. Thirty days later they all met again at the cave on Kasaki Yama. All together they were now eighty men. Quietly they set two, and following the bee's advice, built a wooden house at the entrance of the valley, and put there in some two thousand jars. No sooner had this been done than the bees arrived in countless thousands, until there must have been well-nigh two millions. Men of Yogodeyu's men were sent to propagate reports that he was strongly fortifying himself. Two days later his brother-in-law came to attack him. Yogodeyu began fighting carelessly, so as to draw the enemy, who, seeing this, came on in full force and in a most unguarded way. As soon as a whole of the enemy's force lay revealed, the bees swarmed out of their hiding places and flew among them in such blinding swarms, stinging as they went here, there, and everywhere, that there was no standing against them. The enemy, without a single exception, turned and ran. They were pursued by the bees and by Yogodeyu's eighty men, who simply cut them down as they liked, for each of the enemy had fully three thousand bees attending them. Many lost their minds and went mad. Thus, after completely defeating his old enemy, Yogodeyu became repossessed of his fortress, To commemorate the event he built a small temple at the back of Kassagi Yama. All the dead bees that could be found were collected and buried there, and once a year during the rest of his life Yogodeyu used to go and worship there. End of Chapter 19, Recording by Linda Ray Nielsen, Vancouver, B.C. Chapter 20 of Ancient Tales and Folklore of Japan. This is a LibriVox recording, all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Ancient Tales and Folklore of Japan by Richard Gordon Smith. The Isolated or Desolated Island. Many years ago, the Lord of Kishu, head of one of the three families of the Tokugawa's, ordered his people to hold a hunting party on Tomagashima, Toma Island. In those days such hunting parties were often ordered more for the purpose of improving drill and organization than for sport. It brought men together and taught others to handle them, both on land and at sea. It made men recognize their commanders and superiors. And it disclosed what men were worthy of, being made such. Hunting parties of this kind were considered as military maneuvers. On this particular hunt, or maneuver, the Lord of Kishu was to make a kind of descent by water on the island of Toma, and kill all the game that his landing party could beat up. Boats and junks were armed as if for war, and so were the men, except they wore no armor. The day for the entertainment was fine, some sixty boats put to sea, and landed successfully about eight hundred men on Toma Island, and busy indeed were they chasing boar and deer the whole morning. Towards afternoon, however, a storm of great violence came on and completely stopped the sport. The men were ordered to return to the shore, and regain their boats before these should be smashed on the beach. On embarking they put out to sea with the intention of gaining the mainland. On shore, trees were being uprooted, columns of sand flew high in the air, and the gale was indeed terrific. If unsure it was as bad as this it must be much worse at sea. The Lord of Kishu's boats and junks were tossed about as if they were floating leaves. One of the party was a notedly brave man, Makino Heine, who had been nicknamed Inoshishi, Wild Boar, on account of his reckless bravery. Seeing that neither junks nor boats were making headway against the storm, he pushed the small boat off the junk, jumped into it alone, took the oars, laughed at everyone, and cried, See here! You all seem to be too frightened to make headway. Look at what I do, and follow me, I'm not afraid of the waves, and none of you should be. If you are to serve our Lord of Kishu faithfully. With that Makino Heine shut out into the wild sea, and by extraordinary exertion managed to get some three hundred yards ahead of the rest of the fleet. Then the gale increased to such violence that he was incapable of doing anything. For fear of being blown out of the boat he was obliged to hold tight to the mast, and otherwise abandon his fate to good fortune. At times even the heart of the Wild Boar quailed. Often his boat was lifted clean out of the water by the wind. Waves towered over him. He closed his eyes and awaited his fate. Finally, one squall, more powerful than the rest, blew his boat out of the water, and it was seen from the other boats, which lay at anchor, to disappear into the horizon. Heine clung to the boat tightly, when the mast blew away he held on to the ribs. He prayed hard and earnestly. Some eight hours after the storm began, Heine found the boat in comparatively smooth water. She was flooded, and she was a wreck, but still she floated, and that was all he cared for at the moment. War over Heine felt encouraged, because between two dark clouds he could see an opening and some stars, though at present it was absolutely dark, and the driving grain had not ceased. Suddenly when Heine was wondering how far he had been blown from shore, or from his friends, crack, he felt his boat plump into a rock. The shock was so violent, for the boat was still being driven fast by the gale, that our hero lost his balance and was thrown fully ten feet away. Falling on soft stuff, Heine thought it was in the sea, but his hands suddenly realized that it was soft wet sand. Delighted at this discovery, he looked at the clouds and the sky, and came to the conclusion that in another hour it would be daylight. In the meantime he thanked the gods for his deliverance and prayed for his friends and for his lord and master. As morning broke, Heine arose, stiff, weary, and hungry. Before the sun appeared he realized that he was on an island. No other land was in sight, and had puzzled him sorely to guess where he could be, for from all the Kishu islands the mainland could be easily seen. "'Oh, here is a new tree, I have never seen that in Kishu,' said he, and this flower that is also new, while here is a butterfly more brilliant than any I know. So saying and thinking, Heine began looking about for food, and, being a Japanese, easy satisfied his appetite with the shellfish, which were abundantly strewn everywhere after the storm. The island on which Heine had been cast was fair in size, some two miles across and ten in circumference. There was one small hill in the middle which Heine resolved to ascend, to see if he could discover Kishu from the top of it. Hungly he started. The undergrowth of bush was so great that Heine made a detour to another bay. The trees were quite different from any he had ever seen before, and there were many kinds of palms. At last he found to his delight a well-worn path leading up the mountain. He took it. But when he came to a damp place in the way he was in no wit reassured, for there he saw foot-marts, which could have been made by no one who was not a giant. They were fully eighteen inches in length. A warrior belonging to Kishu must fear nothing, thought Heine, and arming himself with a stout stick he proceeded. Near the top he found the opening to a somewhat large cave, and nothing daunted began to enter, prepared to meet anything. What was his surprise was an enormous man, fully eight feet in height, appeared before him, not more than ten feet from the entrance. He was a hideous, wild-looking creature, nearly black with long, unkempt hair flashing his angry eyes, and a mouth that stretched from ear to ear, showing two glittering rows of teeth, and he wore no clothes except the skin of a wild cat tied around his loins. As soon as he saw Heine he came to a standstill and said, in Japanese, Who are you? How have you got here? And what have you come for? Maki no Heine answered these questions, as fully as he thought necessary, by telling his name, and, adding, I am a retainer of the Lord of Kishu, and was blown away by the storm, after he had been hunting and holding maneuvers on Toma Island. And where are these places you speak of? Remember that this island is unknown to the world, and has been for thousands of years. I am its sole occupant, and wish to remain so. No matter how I came I am here. My name is Tomaru, and my father was Yamaguchi Shoun, who died with his master Toyotomi Hidetsugu on Koyasan Mountain in 1563. Both died by their own hands. And I got here no matter how, and here I intend to remain undisturbed. I heard of your Lord of Kishu, and of the Tokugawa family, before I left Japan, and for that reason I will help you. By giving you my old boat in which I arrived. Come to the beach. I will send you off in the right direction. And if you continue sailing north-west, you shall in time reach Kishu. But it is a long way off. A very long way. With that they walked down to the beach. See? Said Tomaru. The boat is well nigh rotten, for it is many years since she was put here. But with luck you may reach Kishu. Stay. You must have some provision. I can give you only dry fish and fruits. But to these you are welcome. And I must give you a present for your master, the Lord of Kishu. It is a kind of a seaweed. You shall have some for yourself, too. It is my great discovery on this island. No matter how bad a sword cut you may get, it will stop the blood flowing and cure it once. Now jump into the boat and row away. I like to be alone. You may speak of your adventure, but you are not to mention my name. Farewell. Heineck could only do as he was bid. Consequently he made off. Rowing night and day, and aided by favourable currents, he found himself off the coast of Kishu on the third day, after leaving the island. The people were much astonished to see him alive. And the Lord of Kishu rejoiced, especially at the sword cut healing seaweed, which he had planted in the sea, at a part of the coast which he renamed, and called, Nagusagori, district of the famous seaweed. Later, Machinoheine sailed again by permission of his Lord to get more seaweed. The island was found, but the giant had disappeared. CHAPTER XXI of ANCIENT TAILS AND FOLKLORE OF JAPAN by Richard Gordon Smith Chikubu Island, Lake Biwa Many years ago, when I was a boy, there was a song about China men. It began. In China once there lived a man, and his name was Ding Dong Dang. His legs were long and his feet were small, and this Chinese man couldn't walk at all. CHI CHI MARI CHI CHI MARA DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG DA KOSI KOSI KI KOSI KOSI KA CHIKUBU CHIKUBU CHIKUBU CHENG Little in those days did I think that I should come across an island, or any other place, for that matter, of that, which bore the name of part of this wild and idiotic chorus. CHIKUBU CHIKUBU CHIKUBU CHENG It sounds truly wild. Well, so it is. I have found an island on Lake Biwa, which is pronounced and spelt, exactly as in the chorus of this song of my youth. CHIKUBU is there, and I am puzzled to know where the composer found it. In my Japanese I can't find it, however, let us to the story. It is not a very good one, but as it relates to the only island of importance in the lake, it is worth chronicling. CHIKUBU SHIMA is situated about two-thirds up towards the northwestern end of Lake Biwa. In Omi Province, the lake is some thirty-five miles long and twelve broad. The island is holy, I believe, and it is said to have been caused by an earthquake nearly six hundred years BC. Fuji Mountain made its appearance at the same time. Thus we have, so far as we like to believe it, the geographical pedigree of Lake Biwa and its principal island. The nearest land to CHIKUBU is Suuro Cape, which is about two miles away. There, some three hundred years ago, dwelt two sisters, O-Ziru and Kami. They were fifteen and eleven respectively, and dwelt with their old and only uncle, their father and mother, and all their other relations, being dead. Ziru, the crane, and Kami, the turtle, were devoted to each other. In fact, the poor girls clung to each other as the remnants of a family should cling. They loved each other. They were inseparable. At that time there was much fear among the inhabitants of Zu-Ziru Point, of a large carp, a carp of such size that it was called the Master of Lake Biwa. It was said that this fish ate dogs, cats, and sometimes people, if they were unwise enough to swim into water sufficiently deep for him to maneuver in. This principal hover was in the water surrounding CHIKUBU Island, at the northern end of the lake. When O-Ziru reached the age of fifteen, and her sister O-Kami was eleven, O-Ziru became sick with consumption. From bad she grew worse, and her poor little sister O-Kami became quite disconsolate. She cried because of her sister's illness, and went by herself to pray at all the temples in the neighborhood. Day after day she thought of nothing but her sister's illness. But all she did, poor child, was in vain. O-Ziru became worse. In her great distress O-Kami thought that she should venture to the wild and sacred island of CHIKUBU, there to pray to the Goddess of Mercy, Kawanan. To do so with any chance of her prayers being heard it was necessary that she should go alone. She would roll off secretly that night. After darkness had come and her uncle's household had gone to sleep, O-Kami crept forth and went down to the edge of the lake, where her uncle's boat and many others lay. Getting into one the lightest she could find she sculled towards CHIKUBU Island. The sky was clear and the water glistened. In less than an hour this whole-hearted child of Nippon was kneeling before the ever-pleasing and soothing figure of Kawanan, the Goddess ever ready to listen to the prayers of the unhappy, and there she prayed to the full extent of her feelings, weeping between times in sorrow for the sickness of her sister. When poor O-Kami had finished praying she got into her boat and began to roll back to O-Ziru. She had got within half a mile of that place when a terrible storm arose and in the third squall her boat was capsized. O-Kami was no swimmer and as she sank into the depths of the lake the giant carp saw her and instantly carried her off and devoured her. Next morning was consternation at Zu-Ziru. When it was found that both O-Kami-san and one of the fisherman's boats were missing it was naturally surmised that she had gone out on the lake and probably to Chikabu Island to pray to Kawanan. Boats went off in search but nothing could be found, saved the marks of her footsteps from the shore to the shrine dedicated to Kawanan. When hearing the sad news O-Ziru, who they nigh unto death, became worse but in spite of her sad condition she could not bear the idea of lingering on in the world without her sister O-Kami. Consequently she resolved to destroy her life as near as she could think to the place where O-Kami had died so that her spirit might journey with hers until perhaps they should become born again together. At all events it was clearly her duty to follow her sister. When the dusk of evening arrived O-Ziru crept out from her room and gained the beach where she, like her little sister, took the lightest boat which she could find and rode herself out in spite of her weakness to a spot where she thought that the carp might have killed her sister. There standing in the boughs of the boat she cried aloud, O mighty carp, that has devoured my sister, devoured me also that our spirits may follow the same path and become reunited. It is for this I cast myself into the lake. So saying O-Ziru shut her eyes and jumped into the water. Down, down, down she went, until she reached the bottom. No sooner had she alighted there, feeling, curiously enough, no effects of being under water than she heard her name called. Strange indeed, thought she, that I should hear my name at the bottom of Lake Biwa. She opened her eyes and beheld standing beside her an old priest. O-Ziru asked him who he was and why he had called her. I was a priest, he exclaimed. Perhaps I am one now. At all events I often come to the bottom of the lake. I know all about your little sister Kami, of her faithfulness and affection for you, and of yours for her. I also know of the storm which capsized her boat when she had been praying to Kawanan on Shikabu Island, and of her being taken and eaten by that horrible carp. Believe me, none of these are reasons why you should take your own life. Go back on earth, rather than pray to Buddha for your sister's blessing and for her soul. I will see that you are avenged on the carp, and I will see that you get well and strong. Take by hand, so, and I will take you back on shore. Having said this, and carried Zero to land, the priest disappeared. For some time she lay unconscious, but when she came fully to her senses, O-Ziru found herself on Shikabu Island, and feeling considerably stronger than she had felt for some time. She went to the shrine dedicated to Kawanan, and passed the remainder of the night in prayer. In the morning, having gone to the beach, she saw boats in the distance coming from to Zero Point, but what was more extraordinary there lay not ten feet from the shore where she stood, an enormous carp, fully nine feet in length, dead. Among the search boats that arrived was one containing her uncle and a priest. To Zero told her story. The carp was buried at a small promontory on the island, which is called Miyazaki. It was named Koizuka Miyazaki, the carp's grave at Temple Cape. O-Ziru lived to a ripe old age, and was never ill again. He tells of her at the age of seventy, informing Ota Nobu Anga, who came to destroy temples in the neighborhood, that if he touched the shrines on Shikabu Island, she herself would see to his destruction. End of Chapter Twenty-One, Recording by Linda Brie Nielsen, Vancouver, B.C. Chapter Twenty-Two of Ancient Tales and Folklore of Japan This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Read by Angelique Campbell, March 2019. Ancient Tales and Folklore of Japan By Richard Gordon Smith Reincarnation In the far north and mountainous portion of Ichigo Province is a temple which, during the reign of the Emperor Ikijo, had a curious story attached to it, and though the Emperor Ikijo reigned so long ago as between the years 987 and 1011 A.D., the teller of the story assured me that he believed the temple to be in existence still. The temple's name is Kenoto, and it is situated in the hills in the wild woods, which, in those days, must have been almost virgin forest. The monk who reigned supreme over the Kenoto temple was a youngish man, but very devout. He read sacred sermons from the Holy Buddhist Bible, allowed twice a day. One day the good youth perceived that two monkeys had come down from the mountain and sat listening to his reading with serious spaces and no tricks. He was amused, and taking no notice continued to read. As soon as he had finished the monkeys went off into the hills. The monk was surprised to see the monkeys appear at both his sermons next day, and, when on the third day they came again, he could not help asking why they came so regularly. We have come, Holy Father, because we like to hear the words and sermons of Buddha as read by yourself, and greatly do we desire to retain all the wisdom and virtues which we have heard you recite. Is it possible for you to copy out the great and holy Buddhist book? It would be a very laborious affair, answered the priest, highly astonished, but so rare an interest is it that you animals take in the sermons of our great Lord Buddha, I will make an effort to satisfy your wish, hoping that thereby you may be benefited. The monkeys bowed and left the priest, pleased with themselves, and the promise they had obtained, while the priest set to at his gigantic labours of copying the Buddhist Bible. Some six or seven days later about five hundred monkeys came to the temple, each bearing parchment paper which they laid before the priest, their foreman saying how deeply grateful they would be when they had got the copy of the Bible so that they could each know their laws and mend their ways. And bowing again before the priest, they were tired, all except the first two monkeys. These two set diligently to work to find food for the priest while he wrote. Day after day they went into the mountains, returning with wild fruits and potatoes, hunting and mushrooms, and the priest wrote steadily on, being thus attendant, until he had copied five volumes of the sacred book. When he reached the end of the fifth volume, the monkeys, for some unaccountable reason, failed to come, and the good priest was quite nervous on their account. The second day of their absence he went in search of them, fearing that they must have been overcome by some misfortune. Everywhere the priest found traces of the forages on his behalf, branches broken off the wild fruit trees, scratchings and holes where they had been looking for wild potatoes. Evidently the monkeys had worked hard and the poor priest felt deeply anxious on their account. At last, we near the top of the mountain, his heart gave a bound, and was filled with sorrow when he came to a hole which the monkeys had made in looking for wild potatoes so deep that they had been unable to get out. No doubt, both of them had died of broken hearts, fearing that the priest would think they had deserted him. There remained nothing to do but to bury the monkeys and pray for their blessing, which he did. Shortly after this, the priest was called away from the temple to another. So, as he saw no necessity to continue copying the Buddhist Bible, he put the five volumes he had copied into one of the pillars of the temple which had a sort of shelf-covered cut in it. Forty years later they arrived at the temple, one Konomi-taka Asan who had become governor or lord of Ichigo Province. He came with half of his retainers and domestics and asked the priest if they knew anything of the unfinished copy of the Buddhist Bible. Was it in the temple still? No, they said. We were none of us here at the time your lordship mentioned, but there is one old man, a servant, who is eighty-five years of age, and he may be able to tell you something. We will send for him. Shortly afterwards, a man with a blowing white beard was ushered in. Is it the old document that a priest began copying out by the monkeys you want? Well, if so, that has never been touched since, and is a matter of so little importance that I had nearly forgotten about it. The document is in a little secret shelf which is hollowed out in one of the main pillars of the temple. I will fetch it. Some ten minutes later the documents were in the hands of Konomi-taka Asan who was in ecstasy of delight at the sight of them. He told the priest and the old man that he was the lord of Ikijo province, and that he had journeyed all the way to their temple to see if unfinished volumes of the Bible remained there, or, he said, I was the senior of the two monkeys who were so anxious to obtain copies of the whole of our lord-border sermons, and now that I have been born a man, I wish to complete them. Hinomotaka Asan was allowed to take the five volumes away with him, and for five years he kept copying out of the sacred book. He copied three thousand volumes and all, and it is said that they are now kept in the temple of Kinoto in Ikijo province as its most sacred treasure. End. Chapter 22 Chapter 23 of Ancient Tales and Folklore of Japan. This is LibriVox Recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Ancient Tales and Folklore of Japan by Richard Gordon Smith. The Diving Woman of Oviso Bay. Oviso, in the province of Sagami, has become such a celebrated place, as the chosen residence of the Marquis Ito, and of several other high Japanese personages, that a story of a somewhat romantic nature dating back to the Ninon period may be interesting. During one of the earliest years of the period, which lasted from 1116 to 1169 A.D., a certain knight, whose name was Takadaijiro, became ill in the town of Kamakura, where he had been on duty, and was advised to spend the hot month of August at Oviso, and there to give himself perfect rest, peace, and quietness. Having obtained permission to do this, Takadaijiro lost no timing getting to the place and settling himself down, as comfortably as was possible, in a small inn which faced the sea. Being a landsman, who, with the exception of his service at Kamakura, had hardly ever seen the sea, Takadaijiro was pleased to dwell in gazing at it, both by day and by night, for like most Japanese of high birth he was poetical and romantic. After his arrival at Oviso, Takadaijiro felt weary and dusty. As soon as he had secured his room, he threw off his clothes and went down to bathe. Takadaijiro, whose age was about 25 years, was a good swimmer, and plunged into the sea without fear, going out for nearly half a mile. There, however, misfortune overtook him. He was seized with a violent cramp, and began to sink. A fishing boat, sculled by a man and containing a diving girl, happened to see him and went to the rescue. But by this time he had lost consciousness and had sunk for the third time. The girl jumped overboard and swam to the spot where he had disappeared, and, having dived deep, brought him to the surface, holding him there until the boat came up, when by the united efforts of herself and her father Takadaijiro was hauled on board. But not before he had realized that the soft arm that clung ground his neck was that of a woman. When he was thoroughly conscious again, before they had reached the shore, Takadaijiro saw that his preserver was a beautiful ama, diving girl, aged not more than 17. Such beauty he had never seen before, not even in the higher circles in which he was accustomed to move. Takadaijiro was in love with his brave saviour, before the boat had grounded on the pebbly beach. Determined in some way to repay the kindness he had received, Takadaijiro helped to haul their boat up the steep beach, and then to carry their fish and nets to their little thatched cottage, where he thanked the girl for her noble and gallant act in saving him, and congratulated her father on the possession of such a daughter. Having done this, he returned to the inn, which was not more than a few hundred yards away. From that time on, the soul of Takadaijiro knew no peace. Love of the maddest kind was on him. There was no sleep for him at night, for he saw nothing but the face of the beautiful diving girl, whose name, he had ascertained, was Kinu. Try as he might. He could not for a moment put her out of his mind. In the daytime it was worse, for Okino was not to be seen, being out at sea with her father, diving for the Haliotis shells and others, and it was generally the dusk of evening before she returned, and then in the dim light he could not see her. Once indeed Takadaijiro tried to speak to Okino, but she would have nothing to say to him, and continued busying herself and assisting her father to carry the nets and fish up to their cottage. This made Takadaijiro far worse, and he went home, wild, mad, and more in love than ever. At last his love grew so great that he could endure it no longer. He felt that at all events it would be a relief to declare it. So he took his most confidential servant into the secret, and dispatched him with a letter to the fisherman's cottage. Okino's son did not even write an answer, but told the old servant to thank his master, in her behalf, for his letter, and his proposal of marriage. Tell him also, said she, that no good can come of a union between one of so high a birth as he and one so lowly as I. Such a badly matched pair could never make a happy home. In answer to the servant's expostulation, she merely added, I have told you what to tell your master. Take him the message. Takadaijiro, on hearing what Okino had said, was not angry. He was simply astonished. It was beyond his belief that a fisher-girl could refuse such an offering marriage as himself, a samurai of the upper class. Indeed, instead of being angry, Takadaijiro was so startled as to be rather pleased than otherwise, for he thought that perhaps he had taken the fair Okino's son a little too suddenly, and that this first refusal was only a bit of coiness on her part. That was not to be wondered at. I will wait a day or two, thought Takadaijiro. Now that Okino knows of my love, she may think of me, and so become anxious to see me. I will keep out of the way. Perhaps then she will be as anxious to see me as I am to see her. Takadaijiro kept to his own room for the next three days, believing in his heart that Okino must be pining for him. On the evening of the fourth day he wrote another letter to Okino, more full of love than the first, dispatched his old servant, and waited patiently for the answer. When Okino was handed the letter, she laughed, and said, Truly, old man, you appear to me very funny bringing me letters. This is the second in four days, and never until four days ago have I ever had a letter addressed to me in my life. What is this one about, I wonder. Saying this, she tore it open and read, and then turning to the servant continued, It is difficult for me to understand. If you gave my message to your master correctly, he could not fail to know that I could not marry him. His position in life is far too high. Is your master quite right in his head? Yes, except for the love of you, my young master is quite right in his head. But since he has seen you, he talks and thinks of nothing but you, until even I have got quite tired of it, and earnestly pray to Kwanan daily that the weather may get cool so that we may return to our duties at Kamakura. For three full days I had to sit in the inn listening to my young master's poems about your beauty and his love, and I had hoped that every day would find us fishing from a boat for the sweet uparami fish, which are now fat and good as every other sensible person is doing. Yes, my master's head was right enough, but you have unsettled it, it seems. Oh, do marry him, so that we shall all be happy and go out fishing every day and waste no more of this unusual holiday. You are a selfish old man," answered Okinu. Would you that I marry to satisfy your master's love and your desire for fishing? I have told you to tell your master that I will not marry him, because we could not, in our different ranks of life, become happy. Go and repeat that answer. The servant implored once more, but Okinu remained firm, and finally he was obliged to deliver the unpleasant message to his master. Poor Takadae, this time he was distressed, for the girl had even refused to meet him. What was he to do? He wrote one more imploring letter, and also spoke to Okinu's father. But the father said, Sir, my daughter is all I have to love in the world. I cannot influence her in such a thing as her love. Moreover, all our diving girls are strong in mind as well as in body, for constant danger strengthens their nerves. They are not like the weak farmer's girls, who can be influenced and even ordered to marry men they hate. Their minds are oftener than not stronger than those of us men. I always did what Okinu's mother told me I was to do, and could not influence Okinu in such a thing as her marriage. I might give you my advice, and should do so. But, Sir, in this case I must agree with my daughter that, great as the honour done to her, she would be unwise to marry one above her own station in life. Takadae's heart was broken. There was nothing more that he could say, and nothing more that he could do. Bowing low he left the fisherman and retired forthwith to his room in the inn, which he never left, much to the consternation of his servant. Day by day he grew thinner, and as the day approached for his return from leave, Takadae was far more of an invalid than he had been on his arrival at Oiso. What was he to do? The sentiment of the old proverb that there are as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it did not in any way appeal to him. He felt that life was no longer worth having. He resolved to end it in the sea, where his spirit might perhaps linger, and catch sight occasionally of the beautiful diving-girl who had bewitched his heart. Takadae that evening wrote a last note to Okinu, and as soon as all the villagers of Oiso were asleep he arose and went to the cottage slipping the note under the door. Then he went to the beach, and after tying a large stone to a rope, and to his neck, he got into a boat and rode himself about a hundred yards from shore, where he took the stone in his arms and jumped overboard. Next morning Okinu was shocked to read in the note that Jiro Takadae was to kill himself for love of her. She rushed down to the beach, but could see only an empty fishing boat, some three or four hundred yards from shore, to which she swam. There she found Takadae's tobacco box and his Jiro medicine box. Okinu thought that Takadae must have thrown himself into the sea somewhere here abouts, so she began to dive, and was not long before she found the body, which she brought to the surface, after some trouble on account of the weight of the stone, which the arms rigidly grasped. Okinu took the body back to shore, where she found Takadae's old servant wringing his hands in grief. The body was taken back to Kamakura where it was buried. Okinu was sufficiently touched to vow that she would never marry anyone. True, she had not loved Takadae, but he had loved and had died for her. If she married, his spirit would not rest in peace. No sooner had Okinu mentally undertaken this generous course than a strange thing came to pass. The seagulls, which were especially uncommon in the Oviso Bay, began to swarm it. They settled over the exact spot where Takadae had drowned himself. In stormy weather they hovered over it on the wing, but they never went away from the place. Fishermen thought it extraordinary. Okinu knew well enough that the spirit of Takadae must have passed into the gulls, and for it she prayed regularly at the temple, and out of her small savings she built a little tomb sacred to the memory of Takadaejiro. By the time Kino was twenty years of age her beauty was celebrated, and many were the offers she had in marriage. But she refused them all, and kept her vow of celibacy. During her entire life the seagulls were always on the spot where Takadae had been drowned. She died by drowning in a severe typhoon some nine years later than Takadae, and from that day the seagulls disappeared, showing that his spirit was now no longer in fear of Okinu marrying. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Ancient Tales and Folklore of Japan by Richard Gordon Smith. In the period of the Yen Roku, which lasted from 1688 to 1704, when the Shogun, or military ruler Tsenniyoshi's power was in full sway, he presented a solid gold figure of Kuanon, the Goddess of Mercy, to each of his three leading families of the provinces of Kii, Mito, and Oari, and they were considered as of the highest and greatest value by each of these leading lords or daimios, who had kept them in their inner palaces, so that they were almost impossible to get at, and were considered at least absolutely safe from robbers. But even in spite of this, the Lord of Kii took additional precautions by always having a man night and day to guard his idol. At the same period lived a most redoubtable robber whose name was Yayagumo. He was more than an ordinary robber, and was what the people called Fuinkiwi, which means seal-breaker or seal cutter, a first-class burglar, in fact, who never descended to robbing the poor, but only robbed the richest and most difficult palaces and castles that were to be got at, taking from them only the highest and most valuable treasures they possessed. This bold robber broke into the Lord of Kii's palace, no one knew how, took the idol of Kuanon and left his name written on a piece of paper. The Lord of Kii, very angry, sent for the guard whose name was Mumashima Igonosuki, and reprimanded him severely, asking him what excuse he had to make. None, my Lord, tiredness overcame me and I slept. There is but one way in which I can show my regret and that I will do by destroying myself. The Lord of Kii, who was a man of wisdom, answered that before he did this it would be more useful if Igonosuki would follow up the robber and try to recover the idol. Igonosuki, who had always been a faithful servant, readily consented, and, having obtained indefinite leave, went away. For fully four months he was quite unsuccessful, though he had traveled over half the country. At last he heard reports of robberies in Shokugu, and then later in Shikoku province. Hurrying down from Izomu to Okayama, he there got on board a ship bound across the inland sea for Takamatsu in Shikoku. The weather was fine and the sea smooth and Igonosuki was in high spirits, for he had heard that one or two of the robberies had undoubtedly been done by Yayigumu, and he felt that at last he must be getting nearer the man he wished to catch. Perhaps even he was on that very boat. Who could tell? Thinking of these possibilities, Igonosuki kept very much to himself, watching the people, whose spirits all seemed to be affected by the beautiful weather, for though mostly strangers they were all social. Among them was a good-looking young samurai, who had contracted Igonosuki by his refined appearance, as also by a beautiful gold pipe which he drew out from its case and smoked while chatting to his neighbor. By and by a samurai of some sixty years of age came up to the young man and said, Sir, I have lost my pipe and tobacco pouch, somewhere on this ship. I am a confirmed smoker and almost dying for a whiff of tobacco. Might I borrow yours for a moment or two? The young samurai handed both his pipe and his pouch to the old man, with a bow, saying that this afforded him great pleasure. The old samurai, after his three puffs of the pipe, was about to empty out the ash and refill it. To do so, without thinking what he was about, he knocked the pipe on the outside of the ship. To his horror, the gangkubi, the bowl, dropped off into the sea. The old man knew that the pipe was gold and of great value and was utterly confused. He did not know what to say. His apologies were profuse, but they did not bring back the end of the pipe. The young samurai, of course, was much annoyed, but it would be no use getting angry. In any case that would have been an excessively vulgar proceeding, more especially with so old a man. He said, Ah, the pipe was given to me by the Lord of my clan for meritorious service rendered in the big hunt last year, and truly I do not know how I shall be able to face the disgrace of incurring his anger. He grew pale as he mused. The old samurai felt more sorry than ever when he heard this and said, There is only one way I see that you can face your Lord, and that is by my death. I also was a samurai of some importance when younger and know how to conduct myself. It is right that I should disembowel myself as an apology to you for my carelessness. And saying this, the old samurai drew his right arm and shoulder from under his kimono. Surprised at the old man's high sense of honour, the young samurai seized the hand in which he held his sword and prevented him, saying, That will really do no good. It would not make it easier for me to explain to my Lord. Your death can bring no apology to him. It was I to whom he gave the pipe, and it is I who have lost it by lending it to you. It is I, therefore, who should offer the apology to my Lord by doing Harakiri. Then the young samurai prepared to kill himself. Iganosuki, who had been watching the incident, stepped forward and said, Gentlemen, I also am a samurai, and I have heard what you say. Let me say that, though the pipe end has fallen into the sea, it in no way follows that it is lost beyond recovery. Both of you appear to me to be unnecessarily hasty. I am a good diver and swimmer. Our ship is be calmed, and the water hereabouts is not very deep. I am quite ready to try and help you to recover the pipe if you will allow me. Of course, both other samurai were pleased at this idea, of which, being no swimmers themselves, they had never thought. And Iganosuki lost no time in throwing off his kimono and diving into the sea, where he was thoroughly at home, having been in his younger days so expert swimmer that he gave lessons to many of the samurai at ki. Down he went to the bottom, finding not much more than seven Japanese fathoms of five feet each. The bottom was composed almost entirely of stone and was very clear. Iganosuki had not moved many feet along before he saw the end of the gold and at the same time something else gleamed between the stones. Thrusting the pipe between his teeth he seized the other object and to his great astonishment found it to be no less a thing than the gold figure of Kuanan which had been stolen from the castle of the Lord of Ki'i. Carefully returning to the surface Iganosuki scrambled on board and handed the pipe end to the grateful young samurai who with the old one bowed to the ground. When Iganosuki had thrown on his clothes he said, I am a retainer of the Lord of Ki'i and I have come from our castle of Takegaki to hunt for the robber who stole the very figure of Kuanan which I have just by good fortune while looking for your pipe recovered. Is it not wonderful? Truly the old saying, nasa kiwahi to no tamai narazu is quite true. Then the old man in a wild state of delight cried, even more curious as this. My name is Matsuri Fujii of Takamatsu. Only a month ago the robber whom you name, Yayagomufu in Ki'i, the seal breaker, came into the bedroom of my Lord and was about to steal great valuables when I, who was on guard, tried to take him. Though an old man I am a censor, but he was too clever for me and escaped. I followed him down to the beach, but was not fast enough and he got away. Since then I have always wondered what he had in his kimono pockets, for the bright rays of some gilded thing shot out of them. The robber had not got far from the shore before a great storm arose. He was wrecked and drowned. Both his body and the boat were recovered some days later and I identified them, but there was nothing in his pocket. It is clear that when his boat upset the robber lost the Kwanan which must have been what I saw shining out of his pocket. Truly this was a wonderful string of coincidences. Iganasuki, who had no further cause to travel, returned to the Lord of Ki'i and reported his adventures and good fortune. So much pleased was the daimyo he gave Iganasuki a present. The figure of the gold Kwanan was better guarded than ever before. Undoubtedly it had miraculous power and it may still be among the treasures of Ki'i. End of Section 24 Chapter 25 of Ancient Tales and Folklore of Japan This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Ancient Tales and Folklore of Japan by Richard Gordon Smith Saigiyo Hoshi's Rock Some twelve miles south of Shodoshima, Shodo Island, is the largest island of Nao, or Naoshima, on the western side of the enchanting island sea, which it has been my good fortune to cruise over at will, helped instead of being hindered by the Japanese government, in consequence of the kindness of Sir Ernest Satau. Now Shima has but few inhabitants, not I think more than from sixty to a hundred, in the time of our story, about the year eleven-fifty-six. There were only two, Sobe'i and his good wife Oyonii. These lived alone at a beautiful little bay, where they had built a fishing hut, and cultivated some three thousand subo of land, with the produce of which, and an unlimited supply of fish, they were perfectly happy, untroubled by the quarrels of the day, which were then particularly serious, it being the Hogan period, which lasting from eleven-fifty-six to eleven-sixty took its name from what was known as the Hogan Rebellion, or to put it correctly, Revolution. It was during this exciting period that the ex-emperor, Shutoku, life eleven-twenty-four to eleven-forty-one, who was suspected of leading the rebellion, was for safety banished by those in power to the island of Naoshima, stranded, marooned in little else than the clothes he stood in, he was in an unviable plight. As far as he knew the island was desolate. After his marooners had left him, he strolled on the beach, wondering what next he should do. Should he take his life, or should he struggle to retain it? While pondering these questions, night overcame Shutoku, before he had thought of making a shelter, and he sat in consequence, contemplating the past and listening to the sad waves. Next morning, as the sun rose above the horizon, the ex-emperor began to move. He had resolved to live. He had not gone far along the beach when he found marks of feet upon the sand, and shortly afterwards, from across a little rocky promontory, he saw smoke ascending in the still air. Lightened in heart the ex-emperor stepped out, and after some twenty minutes of stiff climbing, came down into the bay where stood the hut of Sobeyi and his wife. Marching boldly up, he told them who he was, and how he had been marooned and exiled, and asked them many questions. Sir, said Sobeyi, my wife and I are very humble people. We live in peace, for there are none to disturb us here, and we are passing through our lives very happily. To our humble fair you are truly welcome. Our cottage is small, but you shall have its shelter while we build another and a better for you, and at all times we shall be your servants. The ex-emperor was pleased to hear these words of friendship, and became one of the family. He helped to build a lodge for himself. He helped the old couple in their fishing and agriculture, and became deeply attached to them. In the autumn he fell ill, and was nursed through a dangerous fever. His medicines were being made by Ooyoni from leaves, seaweeds, and other natural products of the island, and towards the spring he began to recover. In his convalescence the ex-emperor went out one day to sit by the sea and admire the scenery, and became so absorbed in a flock of seagulls that were following the school of sardines that he failed to notice what was going on around him. When he looked up, suddenly it was to find himself surrounded by no less than fourteen knights in armor. As soon as these noticed that the ex-emperor had seen them, one, the eldest, a grey-haired and benevolent-looking old man, stepped up to him, and bowing, and said, O my beloved sovereign, at last I have found you. My name is Furuzuka Iga, and regretfully I am obliged to tell you that I am sent by the Mikado to secure your head. He fears while you live, even in banishment, for the peace of the country. Please enable me to take your head as speedily and as painlessly as possible. It is my misfortune to have to do it. The ex-emperor seemed in no way surprised at this speech. Without a word, he arranged himself and stretched his neck to receive the blow from Iga's sword. Iga, touched by his manly conduct, began to weep, and exclaimed, O what a brave sovereign, what a samurai, how I grieve to be his executioner! But his duty was plain, so he nerved himself, and struck off the ex-emperor's head with a single blow. As soon as a head fell upon the sand, the other knights came up and respectfully placed the head in a silken bag and awaited orders from their chief. My friends, said Furuzuka Iga, go back to the boat, and take the head of Shutuko to the emperor. Tell him that his orders have been carried out, and that he need have no future fear. Go without me, for I remain here to weep over the deed which I have had to do. The knights were astonished, but they departed, and Iga gave way to grief. Soon it came to pass that Sobeyi and his wife went to look for the ex-emperor, for his absence had been long. They knew the spot where he loved to sit and gaze at the beautiful scenery. Thus it was that they found Iga weeping. What is this? they cried. What means this blood upon the sand? Who, sir, may you be, and where is our guest? Iga explained that he was an envoy from the Mikado, and that it had been his painful duty to kill the ex-emperor. The fury of Sobeyi and his wife knew no bounds. Instinctively they decided that they must both die after avenging the ex-emperor by killing Iga. They proceeded to attack him with their knives, Sobeyi in front and his wife from behind. Iga avoided them by his proficiency in Jujitsu. In two seconds he had both of them by the wrists and then said, Good people, for I know you to be such. Listen to my story. The ex-emperor, who has been in exile on this island for nearly a year, and whom you be friended and prevented from perishing from starvation and exposure, is not the real ex-emperor, but my own son, Furuzuka Taro. Sobeyi and his wife looked at him in bewilderment and asked for an explanation. Listen, and I will tell you, said Furuzuka Iga, as the result of the revolution in the imperial household. Ex-emperor Shotuko was taken from the enemy of the reigning emperor and was sentenced to exile on this island, which was supposed to be uninhabited and is so for all but yourselves. The ex-emperor must have died had you not been here to support him, and though I am attached to the imperial court, I did not like one who had been my sovereign so perished. It was my duty to bring the ex-emperor here and maroon him. I marooned instead my own son, who was very much like him, and was glad to take the ex-emperor's place. Unfortunately, the Mikado's mind became uneasy during the winter, fearing that so long as the ex-emperor remained alive there might be further trouble. And I was again sent to Naoshima Island, this time to bring back the ex-emperor's head. You know now what I have had to do. Was ever a father called upon to carry out so terrible a commission? Pity me. Be not angered. You have lost your friend, and I, my son. But the ex-emperor still lives. Moreover, he knows of my loyalty to him, and will be here shortly, in secret, and in disguise. That is why I have remained, and that is the whole of the story I have to tell, and both of you must know how deeply grateful I feel towards you both in your great kindness to my son, Taro. The poor samurai bowed to the ground, and the old couple, too simple to know what to do, remained silent, with tears of sorrow and of sympathy streaming down their faces. For fully half an hour nothing was said. They remained, weeping on the blood-stained beach, waiting for the tide to rise and wash away the marks. And they might have been longer, had it not been that suddenly they heard the sweet strings of the biwa, a musical instrument of four strings, alute. Then Ega arose, and drying his eyes, said, Here my friends comes the real ex-emperor, though in disguise. He never goes anywhere without his loot, and he has signs and signals with me by certain heirs he plays. He is asking now if it is safe to come forward, and if I give no answer it is safe. Listen and see him approach. Sobeyi and his wife had never listened to such soft and bewitching music before, and hearts full of sorrow they sat listening. Nearer and nearer the music came until they saw coming along the beach a man in poor clothes, whom they might almost have mistaken for their dead friend, so like he was to him. When he came nearer, Ega went up and bowed, and then led the stranger to the fisherman and his wife, whom he had made known, telling the ex-emperor what kindness they had shown his son in sorrow. The ex-emperor was pleased, and said that he was deeply grateful, and considered them as part of that faithful body who had worked to save his life. Just then a ship was seen to round the point of the bay. It was the ship in which Ega had arrived, the ship which had borne away his son's head. The ex-emperor, followed by Ega, Sobeyi, and his wife, kneeled on the sand near the bloody stain and prayed long for the peace of the spirit of tarot. Next day the ex-emperor announced his intention of remaining for the rest of his life on the island of Naushima with Sobeyi and Oyoni. Ega was taken to the mainland by Sobeyi, and found his way back to the capital. The ex-emperor, attended by a faithful old couple, lived for a year on the island. His time was passed in playing on the Biwa, and in praying for the spirit of tarot. At the end of the year he died for mournfulness. Sobeyi and his wife devoted all their spare time to building a small shrine to his memory. It is said to be standing to this day. In the third year of Ninan, the famous but eccentric priest and poet Saigyo, who was related to the imperial family, spent 17 days on the island, praying night and day. During this time he sat on the favorite rock of tarot, and the ex-emperor. The rock is still known as Saigyo Iwa. Saigyo's Rock. End of Section 25. Chapter 26 of Ancient Tales and Folklore of Japan. This is a LibriVox recording, while LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Ancient Tales and Folklore of Japan by Richard Gordon Smith. How Masakuni regained his sight. Some seventy years ago, there dwelt in Kyoto a celebrated sword-maker, a native of the province of Awa in Tokushima. Awanokami Masakuni, for such was his name, dwelt in Kyoto for the purpose of business, and because he was nearer the homes of the grandees for whom it paid him best to make swords. With him lived his beautiful little border, Ayi, or O-A-I-san. Ayi meaning love. She was fourteen and only a child, but her beauty was enough to make her an object of affection to anyone who happened to see her. O-Ayi thought of no one but her father, and of him she was extremely fond. As time went on, Masakuni so improved in the art of making swords and forging blades that he came to be regarded with much jealousy by the other swords-makers, all of whom, including Masakuni, lived in the Karasu Tengu district of Kyoto where it was the fashion for sword-makers to dwell in those days. Alas, the skill of Masakuni cost him an eye. Though the samurai and wearers of swords held ethical ideas of honor and bushy, said to be far above the average, it does not appear that the sword-makers were the same. They often committed the most horrible and cowardly crimes. One of these was to put out either one or both of the eyes of their sword-making rivals while they slept. Thus it came to pass one night that little O-Ayi-san was awakened from her sleep by the piercing cry of her father, and found him writhing on the floor in Masakuni, with his right eye stabbed and burst. O-Ayi summoned aid, but nothing could save the eye. It was done for, and though the place could be healed, Masakuni must give up all idea of ever having the use of his right eye again. There was not even the satisfaction of catching his assailant, for he did not know who it was. Amid these circumstances it was evident that Masakuni could no longer remain a sword-maker after the loss of his eye would be impossible for him to carry out any of the fine work needed to keep up his reputation. Consequently he returned to his native village, Ohara, in the province of Awa with his daughter. Poor Masakuni had not been long settled in his old home before his left eye began to feel bad, and in less than a week there appeared to be every chance of his losing its use altogether. Ayi was disconsolate, for her dear father to lose the use of both eyes was terrible. She loved him dearly, and knew that his only remaining pleasures in life were herself and beautiful scenery. What could she do, poor child? She waited on him day and night, cooked and was his nurse. When she had exhausted every means in her power to do good, and her father's left eye grew worse, she betook herself to praying. Daily she toiled up the wild and rocky mountain of Shirataki, near the summit of which there was a little shrine dedicated to Fudo, sometimes thought of as the God of Wisdom. There, day after day, she prayed that she might be led to the knowledge that would cure her father, and though it was now the icy month of January, after so doing, she divested herself of clothing and stood for nearly half an hour under the waterfall from which the mountain takes its name, as was the custom of all who wished to impress upon the deity the earnestness and sincerity of their prayers. For three months Oie had thus gone up the mountain daily to pray and undergo the terrible cold of the waterfall. Yet her prayer seemed unanswered, for there was no improvement in her father. Oie, however, did not lose heart. Toward the end of February she climbed again, in spite of the severe cold, ice was hanging on to many parts of the rock. Oie, after praying to Fudo-san, divested herself of clothing and stepped under the fall, there to continue her prayers, as long as she could possibly stand and live. So great was the cold. In a few moments she lost consciousness and slipped down into the basin of the fall, receiving a severe blow on the head. Just then, by unusual good fortune, an old man, followed by his servant, came up the mountain and was looking at and admiring the waterfall. The white body of Oie-san caught his eye while it was being churned in the basin of the fall, not thirty feet from where he stood. The old man and the servant hastened to pull out the body and began to rub it and found that life was not extinct. Oie was half-drowned and numbed, insensible from the cold and the blow and the blood was flowing freely from the water. They made up their minds to save this beautiful girl and set to with vigor. A fire was lit, her clothes were warmed and put on, and in less than twenty minutes she had opened her eyes and was able to speak. Seeing this, the old man asked, Is it by accident we find you thus nearly dead or have you tried to take your own life? No, said the girl. It is not that I wish to take my own life. It is to save the eyesight of my father that I have come here to pray. This is the hundredth day of my prayer. Tomorrow and every following day I shall be here to pray again and to so continue, for it is against the teachings of Buddha to despair. Oie then related the history of her father's blindness. The old man, answering, said, If devotion to duty has its reward, yours young lady has come. Perhaps you are not aware who I am. My name is Uo Zumi. Dr. Uo Zumi. I am the chief doctor in Kyoto, and I am the only one at present who has passed his full degrees in the medical sciences of the Dutch. I have just been to the palace at Iedo, and am now on my return to Kyoto. I have only put in here with my ship for today and have come up this mountain to admire the scenery. Now I have found you, and so grieve with you in your trouble, that I will stay here a week or two and see what can be done for your father. Do not let us lose time. Put on the rest of your clothes and let us go to your house. Oie son was delighted. At last she thought. Her prayer had been answered by Fudo son. With joy in her heart she almost ran down the mountain, forgetting all about her narrow escape and the long gash she had received in her head. Dr. Uo Zumi had found it hard to keep anywhere near this healthy young maid. Arrived at the house, Uo Zumi made an examination of the patient and ordered remedies after the Dutch prescriptions, the medicines for which he fortunately had with him. Day after day the doctor and Oie attended Masakuni, and at the end of the tenth day his left eye was perfectly cured. Masakuni was delighted at the partial recovery of his sight, and like his daughter attributed the good fortune of the celebrated doctor's arrival to the mercy of Fudo son. Having purified his body and soul by living on a vegetable diet and bathing in cold water for ten days he began making two swords, which some time afterwards he finished. One he presented to the God Fudo, and the other to Dr. Uo Zumi. They were afterwards known as the celebrated swords made by the semi-blind Masakuni. The doctor thought it a pity to allow such a skilled artist as Masakuni to remain in the remote village of Awa Province, and also that the beautiful Oie should be allowed to rust there, so he persuaded them to join him in Kyoto. Subsequently he obtained a place, as made of honor in the palace of the Duke of Karasumaru for Oie-san, where she was perfectly happy. Five years later Masakuni died, and was buried in the cemetery of Torbiyama at the eastern end of Kyoto. So my storyteller Fuguga tells me. End of Section 26 Chapter 27 of Ancient Tales in Folklore of Japan. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This recording by Larry Castleberry of Detroit, Michigan. Ancient Tales in Folklore of Japan by Richard Gordon Smith Chapter 27 Sagami Bay Hatsushima Island is probably unknown to all foreigners, and to 9,999 out of every 10,000 Japanese. Consequently, it is of not much importance. Nevertheless, it has produced quite a romantic little story, which was told to me by a friend who had visited there some six years before. The island is about seven miles southeast of Atami in Sagami Bay, Hizu Province. It is so far isolated from the mainland that very little intercourse goes on with the outer world. Indeed, it is said that the inhabitants of Hatsushima Island are a queer people, and prefer keeping to themselves. Even today, there are only some 200 houses, and the population cannot exceed a thousand. The principal production of the island is, of course, fish. But it is celebrated also for its John Quill flowers, Suisen. Thus, it would be seen that there is hardly any trade. With little the people buy from or sell to the mainland, they carry in their own fishing boats. In matrimony, also they keep to themselves, and are generally conservative and all the better for it. There is a well-known fisherman's song of Hatsushima Island. It means something like the following, and it is of the origin of that queer verse that the story is. Today is the 10th of June. May the rain fall in torrents, for I long to see my dearest Ocho-san. Hai. Hai. Yariko no sa. Yariko no sa. Many years ago, there lived on the island the daughter of a fisherman, whose beauty, even as a child, was extraordinary. As she grew, Cho, for such was her name, improved in looks, and in spite of her lowly birth, she had the manners and refinement of a lady. At the age of 18, there was not a young man on the island who was not in love with her. All were eager to seek her hand in marriage, but hardly any dared to ask, even through the medium of a third party as was usual. Amongst them was a handsome fisherman of about 20 years, whose name was Shinsaku. Being less simple than the rest, and a little more bold, he one day approached Gisuke, Ocho's brother on the subject. Gisuke could see nothing against his sister Marion Shinsaku. Indeed, he rather liked Shinsaku, and their families had always been friends, so he called his sister Ocho down to the beach where they were sitting, and told her that Shinsaku had proposed for her hand in marriage, and that he thought it an excellent match of which her mother would have approved had she been alive. He added, You must marry soon, you know. You are 18. And we want no Spenster or Hatsushima, or girls brought here from the mainland to marry our bachelors. Stay, stay, my dear brother. I do not want all this sermon on Spensterhood, cried Ocho. I have no intention of remaining single, I can tell you. And as far as Shinsaku, I would rather marry him than anyone else. So do not worry yourself further on that account. Settle the day of the happy event. Needless to say, Young Gisuke was delighted, and so was Shinsaku, and they settled that the marriage should be three days thence. Soon, when all the fishing boats have returned to the village, the news spread, and it would be difficult to describe the state of the younger men's feelings. Hitherto, everyone had hoped to win the pretty Ocho-san. All had lived in that happy hope and rejoiced in the uncertain state of love, which causes such happiness in its early stages. Shinsaku had hitherto been a general favorite. Now, the whole of their hopes were dashed to the ground. Ocho was not for any of them. As for Shinsaku, how they suddenly hated him. What was to be done, they asked one another, little thinking of the local side, or that in any case, Ocho would marry only one of them. No attention was paid to the fish they had caught. Their boats were scarcely pulled high enough on the beach for safety. Their minds were wholly given to the question how each and every one of them could marry Ocho-san. First of all, it was decided to tell Shinsaku that they would prevent his marriage if possible. There were several fights on the quiet beach, which had never before been disturbed by a display of ill-filling. At last, Hisuke, Ocho's brother, consulted with his sister and Shinsaku, and they decided for the peace of the island to break off the marriage. Ocho and her lover, determining that at all events they would marry no one else. However, even this great sacrifice had no effect. There were fully thirty men. In fact, the whole of the bachelors wanted to marry Ocho. They fought daily. The whole island was thrown into a discontent. Poor Ocho-san, what could she do? Had not she and Shinsaku done enough already in sacrificing happiness for the peace of the island? There was only one more thing she could do, and being a Japanese girl, she did it. She wrote two letters, one to her brother, Hisuke, another to Shinsaku, beating them farewell. The island of Hatsushima has never had trouble until I was born, she said. For three hundred years or more our people, though poor, have lived happily and in peace. Alas, now it is no longer so on account of me. Farewell, I shall be dead. Tell our people that I have died to bring them back their senses, for they have been foolish about me. Farewell, after leaving the two letters where Hisuke slept, Ocho slipped stealthily out of the house. It was a pouring wet and stormy night in the tenth of June, and cast herself into the sea from some rocks near her cottage after well-loading her sleeves with stones so that she might rise no more. Next morning when Hisuke found the letters, instinctively he knew what must have happened and rushed from the house to find Shinsaku. Brother and lover read their letters together and were stricken with grief as indeed everyone else. A search was made and soon Ocho's straw slippers were found on the point of rocks near her house. Hisuke knew that she must have jumped into the sea here, and he and Shinsaku dived down and found her body lying at the bottom. They brought it to the surface and it was buried just beyond the rocks on which she had last stood. From that day Shinsaku was unable to sleep at night. The poor fellow was quite distracted. Ocho's letter and straw slippers he placed beside his bed and surrounded them with flowers. His days he spent decorating and weeping over her tomb. At last one evening Shinsaku resolved to make away with his own body, hoping that his spirit might find Ocho, and he wandered toward her tomb to take a last farewell. As he did so he thought he saw Ocho and called her aloud three or four times, and then without stretch arms he rushed delightedly at her. The noise awoke Hisuke, whose house was close to the grave. He came out and found Shinsaku clasping the stone pillar which was placed at his head. Shinsaku explained that he had seen the spirit of Ocho and that he was about to follow her by taking his life, but from this he was dissuaded. Do not do that. Devote your life rather and I will help you in building a shrine dedicated to Cho. You will join her when you die by nature, but please her spirit here by never marrying another. Shinsaku promised the young men of the place now began to be deeply sorry for Shinsaku. What selfish beast they had been they thought. However they would mend their ways and spend all their spare time in building a shrine to Ocho-san, and this they did. The shrine is called the Shrine of Ocho-san of Hatsushima. In a ceremony is held there every 10th of June. Curious to relate, it invariably rains on that day, and the fishermen say that the spirit of Ocho comes in the rain, hence the song. Today is the 10th of June. My. May the rain fall in torrents, for I long to see my dear as Ocho-san. Hai, hai. Yariko no sa, yariko no sa. The shrine still stands, I am told. End of Chapter 27 Recording by Larry Castleberry, Detroit, Michigan Chapter 28 of Ancient Tales and Folk Glora of Japan This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Maria Meledia Carey. Ancient Tales and Folk Glora of Japan by Richard Gordon Smith. The King of Tarijima. Many years ago, they lived a daimyo called Tarao, his castle and home, or at Osaki, in Osumi province. And amongst his retinue was a faithful and favorite servant whose name was Kume Shuzen. Kume had long been lanced toward to the lord Tarao and indeed acted for him in everything connected with business. One day, Kume had been dispatched to the capital, Kyoto, to attend to business for his master. When the daimyo Toshiro of Hyuga quarreled with the daimyo of Osumi over some boundary question and Kume not being there to help his master, who was a hasty person, the two clans fought at the foot of Mount Kitamata. Footnote. It is impossible to say exactly to which of the Tarijima Islands this story relates. There are two. One, a rock islet, some 60 miles east of Okinawa Jima, the main island on which is the capital of all the islands, Nafa, and the other, or larger, Tarijima, between longitude 128 degrees and 129 degrees and not far south of Latitude and aligned 38 degrees. My storyteller declares a tale to be about the rocky island south, which charts show as 60 feet above water at high tide, by reason of there being an island adjacent called Kume Shima, while I argue that it is more probably about the northern Torijima, adjacent to which is a large island named Takune Shima, which might very well have been meant for Kume Shima. With Japanese, Chinese, and English names, these islands are very puzzling. The Japanese, though excellent map makers, are bad geographers, changing names as they think fit. End of footnote. The Lord Tarao of Osumi was killed, and so were most of his men. They were most completely beaten. The survivors retired to their lord's castle at Osaki, but the enemy followed them up and again defeated them, taking the castle. Messengers had been dispatched to bring back Kume, of course, but Kume decided that there was only one honorable thing to do, and that was to gather the few remaining samurai he could and fight again in his dead master's behalf. Unfortunately, only some fifty men came to his call. These would Kume hid in the mountains with the intention of waiting until they had recruited more. One of Toshiro's spies found this out, and all except Kume were taken prisoners. Being heartily pursued, Kume hid himself in the daytime and made for the sea by night. After three days, he reached Hisaki, and there, having bought all the provision he could carry, hid himself until an opportunity should come of seizing a boat into darkness, hoping to baffle his pursuers. Kume was no sailor. In fact, he had hardly ever been in a boat, and never except as a passenger. There was no difficulty in finding a boat. He pushed it off and let it drift, for he could not use the ore, and understood nothing about a sail. Fortunately, Hisaki is a long cape on the southeast coast, facing the open Pacific, and therefore there was no difficulty in getting away the wind being favorable and the tide as well. Besides, there is here a strong current always traveling south towards the Luchu's. Kume was more or less indifferent as to where he went, and even if he cared, he could not have helped himself for though his knowledge of direction on land was very good. As soon as he found himself out of sight of land, he was lost. All he knew was that where the sun rose, there was no land which he could reach. The China lay in a direction in which it set, and that to the south there were islands which were reputed to hold savages, Nambanjin, foreign southern savages. Thus Kume drifted on. He knew not whether, lying in the bottom of the boat, and in no way economizing his provisions, and it naturally came to pass that at the end of the second day he had no water left, and suffered much in consequence. Towards morning on the fifth day, Kume lay half asleep in the bottom of the boat. Suddenly he felt it bump. What oh, she bumps! Said he to himself in his native tongue and sitting up. He found he had drifted on to a rocky island. Kume was not long in scrambling ashore and dragging his boat as high as he was able. The first thing he said about doing was to find water to quench his thirst. As he wandered along the rocky shore hunting for a stream, Kume knew that the island could not be inhabited for there were tens of thousands of sea-file perched upon the rocks, feeding along the beach and floating on the water. Others were sitting on eggs. Kume could see that he was not likely to starve while the birds were breeding and he could see moreover that fish were there in abundance for birds of the Gannett species who were simply gorging themselves with a kind of Iwashi, sardine, which made the surface of the calm sea frizzle into foam in their endeavours to escape the larger fish that were pursuing them from underneath. Shows of flying fish came quite close to shore by the magnificent albacore, which clearly showed that fishermen did not visit these parts. Shellfish were in plenty in the coral pools and among them lay, thickly strewn, the smaller of the pearl mussels with which Kume was familiar in his own country. There was no sand on this island, that is to say on the seashore. Everything seemed to be of coral formation except that there was a thick reddish substance on the top of all out of which grew low scrubby trees bearing many fruits which Kume found quite excellent to eat. There was no trouble in finding water. There were several streams flowing down the beach and coming from the thick scrub. Kume returned to his boat to make sure that it was safe and having found a better cove for it, he moved it tither. Then, having eaten some more fruit and shellfish and seaweed, Kume lay down to sleep and to think of his dead master and wonder how we could eventually avenge him on the Daimyo Toshiro of Hyuga. When morning broke Kume was not a little surprised to see some eight or nine figures of people as he first thought sleeping. But when it grew lighter, he found that they were turtles and it was not long before he was on shore and had turned one but then, recollecting that there was plenty of food without taking the life of a beast so much venerated he let it go. Perhaps he, like Urashima, my kindness to the turtle may save me. Indeed, these turtles may be messengers or retainers of the Sea King's Palace. One thing that Kume now decided was to learn to row and sail his boat. He said too that very morning and almost mastered the art of using the immense sculling ore used by present and ancient Japanese alike. In the afternoon he visited the highest part of his island but it was not high enough to enable him to see land though he thought at one time that he could discern that faint line of blue on the horizon which prophesies distant land. However, he was safe for the time. He had food in plenty and water. True, the birds somewhat bothered him for they did not act as might have been expected. There seemed something uncanny in the way they sat on their perches and watched him. He did not like that and often threw a stone at them but even that had little effect. They only seemed to look more serious. Though Kume was no sailor he was a good enough swimmer as are most Japanese who live anywhere along the Sea provinces and he was quite able to dive in moderation and up to a depth of three Japanese fathoms 15 feet. Thus it was that Kume spent all the time he was not practicing in his boat in diving for shellfish. He soon found that there were enormous quantities of pearl oysters which contained beautiful pearls and having collected some 50 or 60 large and small he cut one of the sleeves of his coat and made a bag which he determined to fill. One day while Kume was diving about after his pearls and shellfish he found that by looking in the holes of rocks beneath the low tide level he could find pearls that had fallen from the dead and rotten shells above. In one case they were like gravel and he took them out of a cavity by handfuls, discolored they certainly were but Kume knew them from the routness of shape and rubbing with sand or earth soon proved them to be pearls. Thus it was that he worked with renewed energy hoping all the time to make sufficient money to be able eventually to avenge his dead master. One day some six weeks after he had landed on the island he saw a distant sail through the day he watched it carefully but it did not seem to come or go much nearer and Kume came to the conclusion that it must be the sail of a stationary fishing boat for there was breeze enough to have taken it off out of sight twice over since he had watched if it had wanted to go. Surely there must be lands somewhere over there beyond the boat it would not be there for half a day if not tomorrow now that I can manage to sail and row my boat I will start on an expedition and see I do not expect to find my own countrymen there but I may find Chinese who may be friendly and if I find the southern savages I shall not with my good Japanese sword be afraid of them. Next morning Kume provisioned his boat with fruit, water, shellfish and eggs and tying his bag of pearls about him set sail in a southwestern direction there was little wind and the boat went slowly but Kume steered steadily all night as was natural considering the little he knew he did not go to sleep and thus perhaps lose all idea of the direction once he had come thus it came that when morning broke the sun rose on his port side and he found himself not more than some four miles from an island which lay right ahead of him quite elated with his first success in navigation Kume seized his oars and helped the boat along on reaching the land his reception was anything but pleasant at least 100 angry savages were on the beach with spears and staves but what were they as my translator asked to a Japanese samurai 15 of them were put out of action without his getting a scratch for Kume was well up in all the defensive arts that his military training had given him and the tricks in jujitsu were familiar to him the rest of his adversaries became frightened and began to run Kume caught one of them and tried to ask what island this was and what kind of people they were by signs he explained that he was a Japanese and in no way an enemy but on the contrary wish to be friendly and as they could see he was alone greatly impressed with Kume's prowess and glad that he did not wish to resume hostilities the natives stuck their spears point downwards in the sand and came forward to Kume who sheed his sword and proceeded to examine the 15 men he had laid low 11 of these had fallen by some clever jujitsu trick and were to all intents and purposes dead but Kume took them in various ways and restored them to life by a well known art called Quatsu really artificial breathing which has been practiced in Japan for hundreds of years in connection with some secret jujitsu tricks which are said to kill you unless someone is present who knows the art of Quatsu you must die if left for over 2 hours without being restored at present it is illegal to kill temporarily even though you know the art of Quatsu Kume restored 9 of his fallen enemies which in itself was considered to be a marvelous performance and gained them much respect 2 others were dead the rest had wounds from which they recovered peace being established Kume was escorted by the chief to the village and given a hut to himself and he found the people kind and agreeable a wife was given to him and Kume settled down to the life of the island and to learn the language which in many ways resembled his own sugar and yams were the principal things planted with of course rice in the hills and where there was sufficient water for terracing but fishing formed the principal occupation of all 4 or 5 times a year the islanders were visited by a junk which bought their produce and exchanged things they wanted for it such as beds, iron rods, calico and salt after 3 months residence Kume was able to talk the language a little and had managed to narrate his adventures moreover he had explained that the island from which he had sailed he had named it Torijima on account of the birds there was a far better island than their own for all marine produce do my friends said Kume accompany me over there and see I have shown you my pearls I am not much of a diver there are as many as you can wish also sea slugs, Bechdemer and Namako of the very best kinds do you know that the island which you call Tori is bewitched? they asked it is impossible to go there for there is a gigantic bird which comes twice a year and kills all men who have ventured to land it could not have been there when you were there or you could not have lived a day well my friends said Kume I am not afraid of a bird I have been very kind to me I should like to show you my Torijima for though small it is better than your island for all the things which come from the sea and you would say so if you came please say that some of you will accompany me at last 30 men said they would go that would be 3 boatloads of them accordingly next evening they started and as the direction was well known to the Luchuans they reached the shores of Torijima just the sun arose Kume's boat arrived first though he had been fully warned of the great bird which must have been absent when he was in the island Kume landed alone and was proceeding up the shore when an immense eagle with a body larger than his own swept down on him and began to fight Kume being a Japanese immediately cut the monster in half from that day Torijima has been settled on by fishermen and has afforded more pearls, coral and fish than the other which they named Kumejima and sometimes Shuzenshima both being his names moreover Kume Shuzen was made the king of both islands Kume never got back to Japan to avenge his master the Lord Tarau indeed he was better off than he had ever been before and lived a happy life on the two wild Luchu islands which had not yet come under the Chinese rule and was small to be thought of after some 15 years Kume died and was buried on Kumejima my storyteller says that those who visit the Luchus and pass Kumejima will notice from the sea a monument to Kume Shuzen End of Chapter 28 Recording by Maria Melodia Carey