Books: Japanese Fairy Tales
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Yei Theodora Ozaki >> Japanese Fairy Tales
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But what is the strange fear that seizes Urashima as he stands and
looks about him? Why does he gaze so fixedly at the people that pass
him by, and why do they in turn stand and look at him? The shore is
the same and the hills are the same, but the people that he sees
walking past him have very different faces to those he had known so
well before.
Wondering what it can mean he walks quickly towards his old home.
Even that looks different, but a house stands on the spot, and he
calls out:
"Father, I have just returned!" and he was about to enter, when he
saw a strange man coming out.
"Perhaps my parents have moved while I have been away, and have gone
somewhere else," was the fisherman's thought. Somehow he began to
feel strangely anxious, he could not tell why.
"Excuse me," said he to the man who was staring at him, "but till
within the last few days I have lived in this house. My name is
Urashima Taro. Where have my parents gone whom I left here?"
A very bewildered expression came over the face of the man, and,
still gazing intently on Urashima's face, he said:
"What? Are you Urashima Taro?"
"Yes," said the fisherman, "I am Urashima Taro!"
"Ha, ha!" laughed the man, "you must not make such jokes. It is true
that once upon a time a man called Urashima Taro did live in this
village, but that is a story three hundred years old. He could not
possibly be alive now!"
When Urashima heard these strange words he was frightened, and said:
"Please, please, you must not joke with me, I am greatly perplexed.
I am really Urashima Taro, and I certainly have not lived three
hundred years. Till four or five days ago I lived on this spot. Tell
me what I want to know without more joking, please."
But the man's face grew more and more grave, and he answered:
"You may or may not be Urashima Taro, I don't know. But the Urashima
Taro of whom I have heard is a man who lived three hundred years
ago. Perhaps you are his spirit come to revisit your old home?"
"Why do you mock me?" said Urashima. "I am no spirit! I am a living
man--do you not see my feet;" and "don-don," he stamped on the
ground, first with one foot and then with the other to show the man.
(Japanese ghosts have no feet.)
"But Urashima Taro lived three hundred years ago, that is all I
know; it is written in the village chronicles, "persisted the man,
who could not believe what the fisherman said.
Urashima was lost in bewilderment and trouble. He stood looking all
around him, terribly puzzled, and, indeed, something in the
appearance of everything was different to what he remembered before
he went away, and the awful feeling came over him that what the man
said was perhaps true. He seemed to be in a strange dream. The few
days he had spent in the Sea King's palace beyond the sea had not
been days at all: they had been hundreds of years, and in that time
his parents had died and all the people he had ever known, and the
village had written down his story. There was no use in staying here
any longer. He must get back to his beautiful wife beyond the sea.
He made his way back to the beach, carrying in his hand the box
which the Princess had given him. But which was the way? He could
not find it alone! Suddenly he remembered the box, the tamate-bako.
"The Princess told me when she gave me the box never to open it--
that it contained a very precious thing. But now that I have no
home, now that I have lost everything that was dear to me here, and
my heart grows thin with sadness, at such a time, if I open the box,
surely I shall find something that will help me, something that will
show me the way back to my beautiful Princess over the sea. There is
nothing else for me to do now. Yes, yes, I will open the box and
look in!"
And so his heart consented to this act of disobedience, and he tried
to persuade himself that he was doing the right thing in breaking
his promise.
Slowly, very slowly, he untied the red silk cord, slowly and
wonderingly he lifted the lid of the precious box. And what did he
find? Strange to say only a beautiful little purple cloud rose out
of the box in three soft wisps. For an instant it covered his face
and wavered over him as if loath to go, and then it floated away
like vapor over the sea.
Urashima, who had been till that moment like a strong and handsome
youth of twenty-four, suddenly became very, very old. His back
doubled up with age, his hair turned snowy white, his face wrinkled
and he fell down dead on the beach.
Poor Urashima! because of his disobedience he could never return to
the Sea King's realm or the lovely Princess beyond the sea.
Little children, never be disobedient to those who are wiser than
you for disobedience was the beginning of all the miseries and
sorrows of life.
THE FARMER AND THE BADGER
Long, long ago, there lived an old farmer and his wife who had made
their home in the mountains, far from any town. Their only neighbor
was a bad and malicious badger. This badger used to come out every
night and run across to the farmer's field and spoil the vegetables
and the rice which the farmer spent his time in carefully
cultivating. The badger at last grew so ruthless in his mischievous
work, and did so much harm everywhere on the farm, that the good-
natured farmer could not stand it any longer, and determined to put
a stop to it. So he lay in wait day after day and night after night,
with a big club, hoping to catch the badger, but all in vain. Then
he laid traps for the wicked animal.
The farmer's trouble and patience was rewarded, for one fine day on
going his rounds he found the badger caught in a hole he had dug for
that purpose. The farmer was delighted at having caught his enemy,
and carried him home securely bound with rope. When he reached the
house the farmer said to his wife:
"I have at last caught the bad badger. You must keep an eye on him
while I am out at work and not let him escape, because I want to
make him into soup to-night."
Saying this, he hung the badger up to the rafters of his storehouse
and went out to his work in the fields. The badger was in great
distress, for he did not at all like the idea of being made into
soup that night, and he thought and thought for a long time, trying
to hit upon some plan by which he might escape. It was hard to think
clearly in his uncomfortable position, for he had been hung upside
down. Very near him, at the entrance to the storehouse, looking out
towards the green fields and the trees and the pleasant sunshine,
stood the farmer's old wife pounding barley. She looked tired and
old. Her face was seamed with many wrinkles, and was as brown as
leather, and every now and then she stopped to wipe the perspiration
which rolled down her face.
"Dear lady," said the wily badger, "you must be very weary doing
such heavy work in your old age. Won't you let me do that for you?
My arms are very strong, and I could relieve you for a little
while!"
"Thank you for your kindness," said the old woman, "but I cannot let
you do this work for me because I must not untie you, for you might
escape if I did, and my husband would be very angry if he came home
and found you gone."
Now, the badger is one of the most cunning of animals, and he said
again in a very sad, gentle, voice:
"You are very unkind. You might untie me, for I promise not to try
to escape. If you are afraid of your husband, I will let you bind me
again before his return when I have finished pounding the barley. I
am so tired and sore tied up like this. If you would only let me
down for a few minutes I would indeed be thankful!"
The old woman had a good and simple nature, and could not think
badly of any one. Much less did she think that the badger was only
deceiving her in order to get away. She felt sorry, too, for the
animal as she turned to look at him. He looked in such a sad plight
hanging downwards from the ceiling by his legs, which were all tied
together so tightly that the rope and the knots were cutting into
the skin. So in the kindness of her heart, and believing the
creature's promise that he would not run away, she untied the cord
and let him down.
The old woman then gave him the wooden pestle and told him to do the
work for a short time while she rested. He took the pestle, but
instead of doing the work as he was told, the badger at once sprang
upon the old woman and knocked her down with the heavy piece of
wood. He then killed her and cut her up and made soup of her, and
waited for the return of the old farmer. The old man worked hard in
his fields all day, and as he worked he thought with pleasure that
no more now would his labor be spoiled by the destructive badger.
Towards sunset he left his work and turned to go home. He was very
tired, but the thought of the nice supper of hot badger soup
awaiting his return cheered him. The thought that the badger might
get free and take revenge on the poor old woman never once came into
his mind.
The badger meanwhile assumed the old woman's form, and as soon as he
saw the old farmer approaching came out to greet him on the veranda
of the little house, saying:
"So you have come back at last. I have made the badger soup and have
been waiting for you for a long time."
The old farmer quickly took off his straw sandals and sat down
before his tiny dinner-tray. The innocent man never even dreamed
that it was not his wife but the badger who was waiting upon him,
and asked at once for the soup. Then the badger suddenly transformed
himself back to his natural form and cried out:
"You wife-eating old man! Look out for the bones in the kitchen!"
Laughing loudly and derisively he escaped out of the house and ran
away to his den in the hills. The old man was left behind alone. He
could hardly believe what he had seen and heard. Then when he
understood the whole truth he was so scared and horrified that he
fainted right away. After a while he came round and burst into
tears. He cried loudly and bitterly. He rocked himself to and fro in
his hopeless grief. It seemed too terrible to be real that his
faithful old wife had been killed and cooked by the badger while he
was working quietly in the fields, knowing nothing of what was going
on at home, and congratulating himself on having once for all got
rid of the wicked animal who had so often spoiled his fields. And
oh! the horrible thought; he had very nearly drunk the soup which
the creature had made of his poor old woman. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh
dear!" he wailed aloud. Now, not far away there lived in the same
mountain a kind, good-natured old rabbit. He heard the old man
crying and sobbing and at once set out to see what was the matter,
and if there was anything he could do to help his neighbor. The old
man told him all that had happened. When the rabbit heard the story
he was very angry at the wicked and deceitful badger, and told the
old man to leave everything to him and he would avenge his wife's
death. The farmer was at last comforted, and, wiping away his tears,
thanked the rabbit for his goodness in coming to him in his
distress.
The rabbit, seeing that the farmer was growing calmer, went back to
his home to lay his plans for the punishment of the badger.
The next day the weather was fine, and the rabbit went out to find
the badger. He was not to be seen in the woods or on the hillside or
in the fields anywhere, so the rabbit went to his den and found the
badger hiding there, for the animal had been afraid to show himself
ever since he had escaped from the farmer's house, for fear of the
old man's wrath.
The rabbit called out:
"Why are you not out on such a beautiful day? Come out with me, and
we will go and cut grass on the hills together."
The badger, never doubting but that the rabbit was his friend,
willingly consented to go out with him, only too glad to get away
from the neighborhood of the farmer and the fear of meeting him. The
rabbit led the way miles away from their homes, out on the hills
where the grass grew tall and thick and sweet. They both set to work
to cut down as much as they could carry home, to store it up for
their winter's food. When they had each cut down all they wanted
they tied it in bundles and then started homewards, each carrying
his bundle of grass on his back. This time the rabbit made the
badger go first.
When they had gone a little way the rabbit took out a flint and
steel, and, striking it over the badger's back as he stepped along
in front, set his bundle of grass on fire. The badger heard the
flint striking, and asked:
"What is that noise. 'Crack, crack'?"
"Oh, that is nothing." replied the rabbit; "I only said 'Crack,
crack' because this mountain is called Crackling Mountain."
The fire soon spread in the bundle of dry grass on the badger's
back. The badger, hearing the crackle of the burning grass, asked,
"What is that?"
"Now we have come to the 'Burning Mountain,'" answered the rabbit.
By this time the bundle was nearly burned out and all the hair had
been burned off the badger's back. He now knew what had happened by
the smell of the smoke of the burning grass. Screaming with pain the
badger ran as fast as he could to his hole. The rabbit followed and
found him lying on his bed groaning with pain.
"What an unlucky fellow you are!" said the rabbit. "I can't imagine
how this happened! I will bring you some medicine which will heal
your back quickly!"
The rabbit went away glad and smiling to think that the punishment
upon the badger had already begun. He hoped that the badger would
die of his burns, for he felt that nothing could be too bad for the
animal, who was guilty of murdering a poor helpless old woman who
had trusted him. He went home and made an ointment by mixing some
sauce and red pepper together.
He carried this to the badger, but before putting it on he told him
that it would cause him great pain, but that he must bear it
patiently, because it was a very wonderful medicine for burns and
scalds and such wounds. The badger thanked him and begged him to
apply it at once. But no language can describe the agony of the
badger as soon as the red pepper had been pasted all over his sore
back. He rolled over and over and howled loudly. The rabbit, looking
on, felt that the farmer's wife was beginning to be avenged.
The badger was in bed for about a month; but at last, in spite of
the red pepper application, his burns healed and he got well. When
the rabbit saw that the badger was getting well, he thought of
another plan by which he could compass the creature's death. So he
went one day to pay the badger a visit and to congratulate him on
his recovery.
During the conversation the rabbit mentioned that he was going
fishing, and described how pleasant fishing was when the weather was
fine and the sea smooth.
The badger listened with pleasure to the rabbit's account of the way
he passed his time now, and forgot all his pains and his month's
illness, and thought what fun it would be if he could go fishing
too; so he asked the rabbit if he would take him the next time he
went out to fish. This was just what the rabbit wanted, so he
agreed.
Then he went home and built two boats, one of wood and the other of
clay. At last they were both finished, and as the rabbit stood and
looked at his work he felt that all his trouble would be well
rewarded if his plan succeeded, and he could manage to kill the
wicked badger now.
The day came when the rabbit had arranged to take the badger
fishing. He kept the wooden boat himself and gave the badger the
clay boat. The badger, who knew nothing about boats, was delighted
with his new boat and thought how kind it was of the rabbit to give
it to him. They both got into their boats and set out. After going
some distance from the shore the rabbit proposed that they should
try their boats and see which one could go the quickest. The badger
fell in with the proposal, and they both set to work to row as fast
as they could for some time. In the middle of the race the badger
found his boat going to pieces, for the water now began to soften
the clay. He cried out in great fear to the rabbit to help him. But
the rabbit answered that he was avenging the old woman's murder, and
that this had been his intention all along, and that he was happy to
think that the badger had at last met his deserts for all his evil
crimes, and was to drown with no one to help him. Then he raised his
oar and struck at the badger with all his strength till he fell with
the sinking clay boat and was seen no more.
Thus at last he kept his promise to the old farmer. The rabbit now
turned and rowed shorewards, and having landed and pulled his boat
upon the beach, hurried back to tell the old farmer everything, and
how the badger, his enemy, had been killed.
The old farmer thanked him with tears in his eyes. He said that till
now he could never sleep at night or be at peace in the daytime,
thinking of how his wife's death was unavenged, but from this time
he would be able to sleep and eat as of old. He begged the rabbit to
stay with him and share his home, so from this day the rabbit went
to stay with the old farmer and they both lived together as good
friends to the end of their days.
THE shinansha, OR THE SOUTH POINTING CARRIAGE.
The compass, with its needle always pointing to the North, is quite
a common thing, and no one thinks that it is remarkable now, though
when it was first invented it must have been a wonder.
Now long ago in China, there was a still more wonderful invention
called the shinansha. This was a kind of chariot with the figure of
a man on it always pointing to the South. No matter how the chariot
was placed the figure always wheeled about and pointed to the South.
This curious instrument was invented by Kotei, one of the three
Chinese Emperors of the Mythological age. Kotei was the son of the
Emperor Yuhi. Before he was born his mother had a vision which
foretold that her son would be a great man.
One summer evening she went out to walk in the meadows to seek the
cool breezes which blow at the end of the day and to gaze with
pleasure at the star-lit heavens above her. As she looked at the
North Star, strange to relate, it shot forth vivid flashes of
lightning in every direction. Soon after this her son Kotei came
into the world.
Kotei in time grew to manhood and succeeded his father the Emperor
Yuhi. His early reign was greatly troubled by the rebel Shiyu. This
rebel wanted to make himself King, and many were the battles which
he fought to this end. Shiyu was a wicked magician, his head was
made of iron, and there was no man that could conquer him.
At last Kotei declared war against the rebel and led his army to
battle, and the two armies met on a plain called Takuroku. The
Emperor boldly attacked the enemy, but the magician brought down a
dense fog upon the battlefield, and while the royal army were
wandering about in confusion, trying to find their way, Shiyu
retreated with his troops, laughing at having fooled the royal army.
No matter however strong and brave the Emperor's soldiers were, the
rebel with his magic could always escape in the end.
Kotei returned to his Palace, and thought and pondered deeply as to
how he should conquer the magician, for he was determined not to
give up yet. After a long time he invented the shinansha with the
figure of a man always pointing South, for there were no compasses
in those days. With this instrument to show him the way he need not
fear the dense fogs raised up by the magician to confound his men.
Kotei again declared war against Shiyu. He placed the shinansha in
front of his army and led the way to the battlefield.
The battle began in earnest. The rebel was being driven backward by
the royal troops when he again resorted to magic, and upon his
saying some strange words in a loud voice, immediately a dense fog
came down upon the battlefield.
But this time no soldier minded the fog, not one was confused. Kotei
by pointing to the shinansha could find his way and directed the
army without a single mistake. He closely pursued the rebel army and
drove them backward till they came to a big river. This river Kotei
and his men found was swollen by the floods and impossible to cross.
Shiyu by using his magic art quickly passed over with his army and
shut himself up in a fortress on the opposite bank.
When Kotei found his march checked he was wild with disappointment,
for he had very nearly overtaken the rebel when the river stopped
him.
He could do nothing, for there were no boats in those days, so the
Emperor ordered his tent to be pitched in the pleasantest spot that
the place afforded.
One day he stepped forth from his tent and after walking about for a
short time he came to a pond. Here he sat down on the bank and was
lost in thought.
It was autumn. The trees growing along the edge of the water were
shedding their leaves, which floated hither and thither on the
surface of the pond. By and by, Kotei's attention was attracted to a
spider on the brink of the water. The little insect was trying to
get on to one of the floating leaves near by. It did so at last, and
was soon floating over the water to the other side of the pond.
This little incident made the clever Emperor think that he might try
to make something that could carry himself and his men over the
river in the same way that the leaf had carried over the spider. He
set to work and persevered till he invented the first boat. When he
found that it was a success he set all his men to make more, and in
time there were enough boats for the whole army.
Kotei now took his army across the river, and attacked Shiyu's
headquarters. He gained a complete victory, and so put an end to the
war which had troubled his country for so long.
This wise and good Emperor did not rest till he had secured peace
and prosperity throughout his whole land. He was beloved by his
subjects, who now enjoyed their happiness of peace for many long
years under him. He spent a great deal of time in making inventions
which would benefit his people, and he succeeded in many besides the
boat and the South Pointing shinansha.
He had reigned about a hundred years when one day, as Kotei was
looking upwards, the sky became suddenly red, and something came
glittering like gold towards the earth. As it came nearer Kotei saw
that it was a great Dragon. The Dragon approached and bowed down its
head before the Emperor. The Empress and the courtiers were so
frightened that they ran away screaming.
But the Emperor only smiled and called to them to stop, and said:
"Do not be afraid. This is a messenger from Heaven. My time here is
finished!" He then mounted the Dragon, which began to ascend towards
the sky.
When the Empress and the courtiers saw this they all cried out
together:
"Wait a moment! We wish to come too." And they all ran and caught
hold of the Dragon's beard and tried to mount him.
But it was impossible for so many people to ride on the Dragon.
Several of them hung on to the creature's beard so that when it
tried to mount the hair was pulled out and they fell to the ground.
Meanwhile the Empress and a few of the courtiers were safely seated
on the Dragon's back. The Dragon flew up so high in the heavens that
in a short time the inmates of the Palace, who had been left behind
disappointed, could see them no more.
After some time a bow and an arrow dropped to the earth in the
courtyard of the Palace. They were recognized as having belonged to
the Emperor Kotei. The courtiers took them up carefully and
preserved them as sacred relics in the Palace.
THE ADVENTURES OF KINTARO, THE GOLDEN BOY.
Long, long ago there lived in Kyoto a brave soldier named Kintoki.
Now he fell in love with a beautiful lady and married her. Not long
after this, through the malice of some of his friends, he fell into
disgrace at Court and was dismissed. This misfortune so preyed upon
his mind that he did not long survive his dismissal--he died,
leaving behind him his beautiful young wife to face the world alone.
Fearing her husband's enemies, she fled to the Ashigara Mountains as
soon as her husband was dead, and there in the lonely forests where
no one ever came except woodcutters, a little boy was born to her.
She called him Kintaro or the Golden Boy. Now the remarkable thing
about this child was his great strength, and as he grew older he
grew stronger and stronger, so that by the time he was eight years
of age he was able to cut down trees as quickly as the woodcutters.
Then his mother gave him a large ax, and he used to go out in the
forest and help the woodcutters, who called him "Wonder-child," and
his mother the "Old Nurse of the Mountains," for they did not know
her high rank. Another favorite pastime of Kintaro's was to smash up
rocks and stones. You can imagine how strong he was!
Quite unlike other boys, Kintaro, grew up all alone in the mountain
wilds, and as he had no companions he made friends with all the
animals and learned to understand them and to speak their strange
talk. By degrees they all grew quite tame and looked upon Kintaro as
their master, and he used them as his servants and messengers. But
his special retainers were the bear, the deer, the monkey and the
hare.
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