Books: Japanese Fairy Tales
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Yei Theodora Ozaki >> Japanese Fairy Tales
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The pheasant at once obeyed. He flew off from the ship beating the
air gladly with his wings. The bird soon reached the island and took
up his position on the roof in the middle of the castle, calling out
loudly:
"All you devils listen to me! The great Japanese general Momotaro
has come to fight you and to take your stronghold from you. If you
wish to save your lives surrender at once, and in token of your
submission you must break off the horns that grow on your forehead.
If you do not surrender at once, but make up your mind to fight, we,
the pheasant, the dog and the monkey, will kill you all by biting
and tearing you to death!"
The horned demons looking up and only seeing a pheasant, laughed and
said:
"A wild pheasant, indeed! It is ridiculous to hear such words from a
mean thing like you. Wait till you get a blow from one of our iron
bars!"
Very angry, indeed, were the devils. They shook their horns and
their shocks of red hair fiercely, and rushed to put on tiger skin
trousers to make themselves look more terrible. They then brought
out great iron bars and ran to where the pheasant perched over their
heads, and tried to knock him down. The pheasant flew to one side to
escape the blow, and then attacked the head of first one and then
another demon. He flew round and round them, beating the air with
his wings so fiercely and ceaselessly, that the devils began to
wonder whether they had to fight one or many more birds.
In the meantime, Momotaro had brought his ship to land. As they had
approached, he saw that the shore was like a precipice, and that the
large castle was surrounded by high walls and large iron gates and
was strongly fortified.
Momotaro landed, and with the hope of finding some way of entrance,
walked up the path towards the top, followed by the monkey and the
dog. They soon came upon two beautiful damsels washing clothes in a
stream. Momotaro saw that the clothes were blood-stained, and that
as the two maidens washed, the tears were falling fast down their
cheeks. He stopped and spoke to them:
"Who are you, and why do you weep?"
"We are captives of the Demon King. We were carried away from our
homes to this island, and though we are the daughters of Daimios
(Lords), we are obliged to be his servants, and one day he will kill
us"--and the maidens held up the blood-stained clothes--"and eat us,
and there is no one to help us!"
And their tears burst out afresh at this horrible thought.
"I will rescue you," said Momotaro. "Do not weep any more, only show
me how I may get into the castle."
Then the two ladies led the way and showed Momotaro a little back
door in the lowest part of the castle wall--so small that Momotaro
could hardly crawl in.
The pheasant, who was all this time fighting hard, saw Momotaro and
his little band rush in at the back.
Momotaro's onslaught was so furious that the devils could not stand
against him. At first their foe had been a single bird, the
pheasant, but now that Momotaro and the dog and the monkey had
arrived they were bewildered, for the four enemies fought like a
hundred, so strong were they. Some of the devils fell off the
parapet of the castle and were dashed to pieces on the rocks
beneath; others fell into the sea and were drowned; many were beaten
to death by the three animals.
The chief of the devils at last was the only one left. He made up
his mind to surrender, for he knew that his enemy was stronger than
mortal man.
He came up humbly to Momotaro and threw down his iron bar, and
kneeling down at the victor's feet he broke off the horns on his
head in token of submission, for they were the sign of his strength
and power.
"I am afraid of you," he said meekly. "I cannot stand against you. I
will give you all the treasure hidden in this castle if you will
spare my life!"
Momotaro laughed.
"It is not like you, big devil, to beg for mercy, is it? I cannot
spare your wicked life, however much you beg, for you have killed
and tortured many people and robbed our country for many years."
Then Momotaro tied the devil chief up and gave him into the monkey's
charge. Having done this, he went into all the rooms of the castle
and set the prisoners free and gathered together all the treasure he
found.
The dog and the pheasant carried home the plunder, and thus Momotaro
returned triumphantly to his home, taking with him the devil chief
as a captive.
The two poor damsels, daughters of Daimios, and others whom the
wicked demon had carried off to be his slaves, were taken safely to
their own homes and delivered to their parents.
The whole country made a hero of Momotaro on his triumphant return,
and rejoiced that the country was now freed from the robber devils
who had been a terror of the land for a long time.
The old couple's joy was greater than ever, and the treasure
Momotaro had brought home with him enabled them to live in peace and
plenty to the end of their days.
THE OGRE OF RASHOMON.
Long, long ago in Kyoto, the people of the city were terrified by
accounts of a dreadful ogre, who, it was said, haunted the Gate of
Rashomon at twilight and seized whoever passed by. The missing
victims were never seen again, so it was whispered that the ogre was
a horrible cannibal, who not only killed the unhappy victims but ate
them also. Now everybody in the town and neighborhood was in great
fear, and no one durst venture out after sunset near the Gate of
Rashomon.
Now at this time there lived in Kyoto a general named Raiko, who had
made himself famous for his brave deeds. Some time before this he
made the country ring with his name, for he had attacked Oeyama,
where a band of ogres lived with their chief, who instead of wine
drank the blood of human beings. He had routed them all and cut off
the head of the chief monster.
This brave warrior was always followed by a band of faithful
knights. In this band there were five knights of great valor. One
evening as the five knights sat at a feast quaffing SAKE in their
rice bowls and eating all kinds of fish, raw, and stewed, and
broiled, and toasting each other's healths and exploits, the first
knight, Hojo, said to the others:
"Have you all heard the rumor that every evening after sunset there
comes an ogre to the Gate of Rashomon, and that he seizes all who
pass by?"
The second knight, Watanabe, answered him, saying:
"Do not talk such nonsense! All the ogres were killed by our chief
Raiko at Oeyama! It cannot be true, because even if any ogres did
escape from that great killing they would not dare to show
themselves in this city, for they know that our brave master would
at once attack them if he knew that any of them were still alive!"
"Then do you disbelieve what I say, and think that I am telling you
a falsehood?"
"No, I do not think that you are telling a lie," said Watanabe; "but
you have heard some old woman's story which is not worth believing."
"Then the best plan is to prove what I say, by going there yourself
and finding out yourself whether it is true or not," said Hojo.
Watanabe, the second knight, could not bear the thought that his
companion should believe he was afraid, so he answered quickly:
"Of course, I will go at once and find out for myself!"
So Watanabe at once got ready to go--he buckled on his long sword
and put on a coat of armor, and tied on his large helmet. When he
was ready to start he said to the others:
"Give me something so that I can prove I have been there!"
Then one of the men got a roll of writing paper and his box of
Indian ink and brushes, and the four comrades wrote their names on a
piece of paper.
"I will take this," said Watanabe, "and put it on the Gate of
Rashomon, so to-morrow morning will you all go and look at it? I may
be able to catch an ogre or two by then!" and he mounted his horse
and rode off gallantly.
It was a very dark night, and there was neither moon nor star to
light Watanabe on his way. To make the darkness worse a storm came
on, the rain fell heavily and the wind howled like wolves in the
mountains. Any ordinary man would have trembled at the thought of
going out of doors, but Watanabe was a brave warrior and dauntless,
and his honor and word were at stake, so he sped on into the night,
while his companions listened to the sound of his horse's hoofs
dying away in the distance, then shut the sliding shutters close and
gathered round the charcoal fire and wondered what would happen--and
whether their comrade would encounter one of those horrible Oni.
At last Watanabe reached the Gate of Rashomon, but peer as he might
through the darkness he could see no sign of an ogre.
"It is just as I thought," said Watanabe to himself; "there are
certainly no ogres here; it is only an old woman's story. I will
stick this paper on the gate so that the others can see I have been
here when they come to-morrow, and then I will take my way home and
laugh at them all."
He fastened the piece of paper, signed by all his four companions,
on the gate, and then turned his horse's head towards home.
As he did so he became aware that some one was behind him, and at
the same time a voice called out to him to wait. Then his helmet was
seized from the back. "Who are you?" said Watanabe fearlessly. He
then put out his hand and groped around to find out who or what it
was that held him by the helmet. As he did so he touched something
that felt like an arm--it was covered with hair and as big round as
the trunk of a tree!
Watanabe knew at once that this was the arm of an ogre, so he drew
his sword and cut at it fiercely.
There was a loud yell of pain, and then the ogre dashed in front of
the warrior.
Watanabe's eyes grew large with wonder, for he saw that the ogre was
taller than the great gate, his eyes were flashing like mirrors in
the sunlight, and his huge mouth was wide open, and as the monster
breathed, flames of fire shot out of his mouth.
The ogre thought to terrify his foe, but Watanabe never flinched. He
attacked the ogre with all his strength, and thus they fought face
to face for a long time. At last the ogre, finding that he could
neither frighten nor beat Watanabe and that he might himself be
beaten, took to flight. But Watanabe, determined not to let the
monster escape, put spurs to his horse and gave chase.
But though the knight rode very fast the ogre ran faster, and to his
disappointment he found himself unable to overtake the monster, who
was gradually lost to sight.
Watanabe returned to the gate where the fierce fight had taken
place, and got down from his horse. As he did so he stumbled upon
something lying on the ground.
Stooping to pick it up he found that it was one of the ogre's huge
arms which he must have slashed off in the fight. His joy was great
at having secured such a prize, for this was the best of all proofs
of his adventure with the ogre. So he took it up carefully and
carried it home as a trophy of his victory.
When he got back, he showed the arm to his comrades, who one and all
called him the hero of their band and gave him a great feast. His
wonderful deed was soon noised abroad in Kyoto, and people from far
and near came to see the ogre's arm.
Watanabe now began to grow uneasy as to how he should keep the arm
in safety, for he knew that the ogre to whom it belonged was still
alive. He felt sure that one day or other, as soon as the ogre got
over his scare, he would come to try to get his arm back again.
Watanabe therefore had a box made of the strongest wood and banded
with iron. In this he placed the arm, and then he sealed down the
heavy lid, refusing to open it for anyone. He kept the box in his
own room and took charge of it himself, never allowing it out of his
sight.
Now one night he heard some one knocking at the porch, asking for
admittance.
When the servant went to the door to see who it was, there was only
an old woman, very respectable in appearance. On being asked who she
was and what was her business, the old woman replied with a smile
that she had been nurse to the master of the house when he was a
little baby. If the lord of the house were at home she begged to be
allowed to see him.
The servant left the old woman at the door and went to tell his
master that his old nurse had come to see him. Watanabe thought it
strange that she should come at that time of night, but at the
thought of his old nurse, who had been like a foster-mother to him
and whom he had not seen for a long time, a very tender feeling
sprang up for her in his heart. He ordered the servant to show her
in.
The old woman was ushered into the room, and after the customary
bows and greetings were over, she said:
"Master, the report of your brave fight with the ogre at the Gate of
Rashomon is so widely known that even your poor old nurse has heard
of it. Is it really true, what every one says, that you cut off one
of the ogre's arms? If you did, your deed is highly to be praised!"
"I was very disappointed," said Watanabe, "that I was not able take
the monster captive, which was what I wished to do, instead of only
cutting off an arm!"
"I am very proud to think," answered the old woman, "that my master
was so brave as to dare to cut off an ogre's arm. There is nothing
that can be compared to your courage. Before I die it is the great
wish of my life to see this arm," she added pleadingly.
"No," said Watanabe, "I am sorry, but I cannot grant your request."
"But why?" asked the old woman.
"Because," replied Watanabe, "ogres are very revengeful creatures,
and if I open the box there is no telling but that the ogre may
suddenly appear and carry off his arm. I have had a box made on
purpose with a very strong lid, and in this box I keep the ogre's
arm secure; and I never show it to any one, whatever happens."
"Your precaution is very reasonable," said the old woman. "But I am
your old nurse, so surely you will not refuse to show ME the arm. I
have only just heard of your brave act, and not being able to wait
till the morning I came at once to ask you to show it to me."
Watanabe was very troubled at the old woman's pleading, but he still
persisted in refusing. Then the old woman said:
"Do you suspect me of being a spy sent by the ogre?"
"No, of course I do not suspect you of being the ogre's spy, for you
are my old nurse," answered Watanabe.
"Then you cannot surely refuse to show me the arm any longer."
entreated the old woman; "for it is the great wish of my heart to
see for once in my life the arm of an ogre!"
Watanabe could not hold out in his refusal any longer, so he gave in
at last, saying:
"Then I will show you the ogre's arm, since you so earnestly wish to
see it. Come, follow me!" and he led the way to his own room, the
old woman following.
When they were both in the room Watanabe shut the door carefully,
and then going towards a big box which stood in a corner of the
room, he took off the heavy lid. He then called to the old woman to
come near and look in, for he never took the arm out of the box.
"What is it like? Let me have a good look at it," said the old
nurse, with a joyful face.
She came nearer and nearer, as if she were afraid, till she stood
right against the box. Suddenly she plunged her hand into the box
and seized the arm, crying with a fearful voice which made the room
shake:
"Oh, joy! I have got my arm back again!"
And from an old woman she was suddenly transformed into the towering
figure of the frightful ogre!
Watanabe sprang back and was unable to move for a moment, so great
was his astonishment; but recognizing the ogre who had attacked him
at the Gate of Rashomon, he determined with his usual courage to put
an end to him this time. He seized his sword, drew it out of its
sheath in a flash, and tried to cut the ogre down.
So quick was Watanabe that the creature had a narrow escape. But the
ogre sprang up to the ceiling, and bursting through the roof,
disappeared in the mist and clouds.
In this way the ogre escaped with his arm. The knight gnashed his
teeth with disappointment, but that was all he could do. He waited
in patience for another opportunity to dispatch the ogre. But the
latter was afraid of Watanabe's great strength and daring, and never
troubled Kyoto again. So once more the people of the city were able
to go out without fear even at night time, and the brave deeds of
Watanabe have never been forgotten!
HOW AN OLD MAN LOST HIS WEN.
Many, many years ago there lived a good old man who had a wen like a
tennis-ball growing out of his right cheek. This lump was a great
disfigurement to the old man, and so annoyed him that for many years
he spent all his time and money in trying to get rid of it. He tried
everything he could think of. He consulted many doctors far and
near, and took all kinds of medicines both internally and
externally. But it was all of no use. The lump only grew bigger and
bigger till it was nearly as big as his face, and in despair he gave
up all hopes of ever losing it, and resigned himself to the thought
of having to carry the lump on his face all his life.
One day the firewood gave out in his kitchen, so, as his wife wanted
some at once, the old man took his ax and set out for the woods up
among the hills not very far from his home. It was a fine day in the
early autumn, and the old man enjoyed the fresh air and was in no
hurry to get home. So the whole afternoon passed quickly while he
was chopping wood, and he had collected a goodly pile to take back
to his wife. When the day began to draw to a close, he turned his
face homewards.
The old man had not gone far on his way down the mountain pass when
the sky clouded and rain began to fall heavily. He looked about for
some shelter, but there was not even a charcoal-burner's hut near.
At last he espied a large hole in the hollow trunk of a tree. The
hole was near the ground, so he crept in easily, and sat down in
hopes that he had only been overtaken by a mountain shower, and that
the weather would soon clear.
But much to the old man's disappointment, instead of clearing the
rain fell more and more heavily, and finally a heavy thunderstorm
broke over the mountain. The thunder roared so terrifically, and the
heavens seemed to be so ablaze with lightning, that the old man
could hardly believe himself to be alive. He thought that he must
die of fright. At last, however, the sky cleared, and the whole
country was aglow in the rays of the setting sun. The old man's
spirits revived when he looked out at the beautiful twilight, and he
was about to step out from his strange hiding-place in the hollow
tree when the sound of what seemed like the approaching steps of
several people caught his ear. He at once thought that his friends
had come to look for him, and he was delighted at the idea of having
some jolly companions with whom to walk home. But on looking out
from the tree, what was his amazement to see, not his friends, but
hundreds of demons coming towards the spot. The more he looked, the
greater was his astonishment. Some of these demons were as large as
giants, others had great big eyes out of all proportion to the rest
of their bodies, others again had absurdly long noses, and some had
such big mouths that they seemed to open from ear to ear. All had
horns growing on their foreheads. The old man was so surprised at
what he saw that he lost his balance and fell out of the hollow
tree. Fortunately for him the demons did not see him, as the tree
was in the background. So he picked himself up and crept back into
the tree.
While he was sitting there and wondering impatiently when he would
be able to get home, he heard the sounds of gay music, and then some
of the demons began to sing.
"What are these creatures doing?" said the old man to himself. "I
will look out, it sounds very amusing."
On peeping out, the old man saw that the demon chief himself was
actually sitting with his back against the tree in which he had
taken refuge, and all the other demons were sitting round, some
drinking and some dancing. Food and wine was spread before them on
the ground, and the demons were evidently having a great
entertainment and enjoying themselves immensely.
It made the old man laugh to see their strange antics.
"How amusing this is!" laughed the old man to himself "I am now
quite old, but I have never seen anything so strange in all my
life."
He was so interested and excited in watching all that the demons
were doing, that he forgot himself and stepped out of the tree and
stood looking on.
The demon chief was just taking a big cup of SAKE and watching one
of the demons dancing. In a little while he said with a bored air:
"Your dance is rather monotonous. I am tired of watching it. Isn't
there any one amongst you all who can dance better than this
fellow?"
Now the old man had been fond of dancing all his life, and was quite
an expert in the art, and he knew that he could do much better than
the demon.
"Shall I go and dance before these demons and let them see what a
human being can do? It may be dangerous, for if I don't please them
they may kill me!" said the old fellow to himself.
His fears, however, were soon overcome by his love of dancing. In a
few minutes he could restrain himself no longer, and came out before
the whole party of demons and began to dance at once. The old man,
realizing that his life probably depended on whether he pleased
these strange creatures or not, exerted his skill and wit to the
utmost.
The demons were at first very surprised to see a man so fearlessly
taking part in their entertainment, and then their surprise soon
gave place to admiration.
"How strange!" exclaimed the horned chief. "I never saw such a
skillful dancer before! He dances admirably!"
When the old man had finished his dance, the big demon said:
"Thank you very much for your amusing dance. Now give us the
pleasure of drinking a cup of wine with us," and with these words he
handed him his largest wine-cup.
The old man thanked him very humbly:
"I did not expect such kindness from your lordship. I fear I have
only disturbed your pleasant party by my unskillful dancing."
"No, no," answered the big demon. "You must come often and dance for
us. Your skill has given us much pleasure."
The old man thanked him again and promised to do so.
"Then will you come again to-morrow, old man?" asked the demon.
"Certainly, I will," answered the old man.
"Then you must leave some pledge of your word with us," said the
demon.
"Whatever you like," said the old man.
"Now what is the best thing he can leave with us as a pledge?" asked
the demon, looking round.
Then said one of the demon's attendants kneeling behind the chief:
"The token he leaves with us must be the most important thing to him
in his possession. I see the old man has a wen on his right cheek.
Now mortal men consider such a wen very fortunate. Let my lord take
the lump from the old man's right cheek, and he will surely come to-
morrow, if only to get that back."
"You are very clever," said the demon chief, giving his horns an
approving nod. Then he stretched out a hairy arm and claw-like hand,
and took the great lump from the old man's right cheek. Strange to
say, it came off as easily as a ripe plum from the tree at the
demon's touch, and then the merry troop of demons suddenly vanished.
The old man was lost in bewilderment by all that had happened. He
hardly knew for some time where he was. When he came to understand
what had happened to him, he was delighted to find that the lump on
his face, which had for so many years disfigured him, had really
been taken away without any pain to himself. He put up his hand to
feel if any scar remained, but found that his right cheek was as
smooth as his left.
The sun had long set, and the young moon had risen like a silver
crescent in the sky. The old man suddenly realized how late it was
and began to hurry home. He patted his right cheek all the time, as
if to make sure of his good fortune in having lost the wen. He was
so happy that he found it impossible to walk quietly--he ran and
danced the whole way home.
He found his wife very anxious, wondering what had happened to make
him so late. He soon told her all that had passed since he left home
that afternoon. She was quite as happy as her husband when he showed
her that the ugly lump had disappeared from his face, for in her
youth she had prided herself on his good looks, and it had been a
daily grief to her to see the horrid growth.
Now next door to this good old couple there lived a wicked and
disagreeable old man. He, too, had for many years been troubled with
the growth of a wen on his left cheek, and he, too,
had tried all manner of things to get rid of it, but in vain.
He heard at once, through the servant, of his neighbor's good luck
in losing the lump on his face, so he called that very evening and
asked his friend to tell him everything that concerned the loss of
it. The good old man told his disagreeable neighbor all that had
happened to him. He described the place where he would find the
hollow tree in which to hide, and advised him to be on the spot in
the late afternoon towards the time of sunset.
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