Ancient Tales and Folk-Lore of Japan, Richard Gordon Smith [best ebook reader ubuntu .txt] 📗

mats of six feet by three feet—they found the old man seated at one end of it. The two men who had followed hid themselves in some fine azalea bushes.

First they saw the old man rise to his feet, and then go over to the children and hear from the three cured ones how they felt, and how their parents had been pleased. Tarako was the most delighted, perhaps, of the three; for he had never seen the world before, or even his parents.

‘Now, my children, you have come here to see me, and I am going to amuse you all. See here!’ Saying this, the old man picked up some dead sticks, and, blowing at their ends, produced blossoming cherry branches, plum blossoms, and peach, and handed a branch of each to the girls. Next he took a stone and threw it into the air, and behold! it turned into a dove. Another turned into a hawk, or, in fact, into any bird a boy chose to name.

‘Now,’ said the old man, ‘I will show you some animals that will make you laugh.’ He recited some mystic verse, and monkeys came leaping on the flat rock and began to wrestle with one another. The children clapped their hands in delight; but one of the men who was hidden exclaimed in his astonishment:

‘Who can this wizard be? No other but a wizard could do such things!’

The venerable old man heard, and, looking cautiously round, said:

‘Children, I can do no more tricks to-day. My spell has gone. I will go to my home, and you had better go to yours. Farewell.’

So saying, the old man bowed to them, and turned up the mountain path, taking the direction of the cave.

The two men came out from their hiding, and they, with the children, tried to follow him. In spite of his great age, he was much more nimble than they among the rocks; but they got far enough to see him enter the cave. Some minutes later they came to the entrance, and bowed before it. The entrance was surrounded by fragrant flowers; but into its dark depths they did not venture.

Suddenly O Yuka pointed upwards, crying, ‘There is the old grandfather!’ They all looked up; and standing on a cloud was the old man, right over the summit of the mountain.

‘Ah, now it is quite clear!’ cried one of the men. ‘It is the famous hermit of Mount Norikuradake.’ They all bowed low, and then went home to report to the villagers what they had seen.

Subscriptions were collected; a small temple was built inside the cave, and they called it the ‘Sendokutsu Temple,’ which means The Sennin’s Temple.

36. The Spirit of Fuji Shows Yosoji the Health-Giving Stream

XXXI YOSOJI’S CAMELLIA TREE

IN the reign of the Emperor Sanjo began a particularly unlucky time. It was about the year 1013 A. D. when Sanjo came to the throne—the first year of Chowa. Plague broke out. Two years later the Royal Palace was burned down, and a war began with Korea, then known as ‘Shiragi.’

In 1016 another fire broke out in the new Palace. A year later the Emperor gave up the throne, owing to blindness and for other causes. He handed over the reins of office to Prince Atsuhara, who was called the Emperor Go Ichijo, and came to the throne in the first year of Kwannin, about 1017 or 1018. The period during which the Emperor Go Ichijo reigned—about twenty years, up to 1036—was one of the worst in Japanese history. There were more wars, more fires, and worse plagues than ever. Things were in disorder generally, and even Kyoto was hardly safe to people of means, owing to the bands of brigands. In 1025 the most appalling outbreak of smallpox came; there was hardly a village or a town in Japan which escaped.

It is at this period that our story begins. Our heroine (if such she may be called) is no less a deity than the goddess of the great mountain of Fuji, which nearly all the world has heard of, or seen depicted. Therefore, if the legend sounds stupid and childish, blame only my way of telling it (simply, as it was told to me), and think of the Great Mountain of Japan, as to which anything should be interesting; moreover, challenge others for a better. I have been able to find none myself.

During the terrible scourge of smallpox there was a village in Suruga Province called Kamiide, which still exists, but is of little importance. It suffered more badly than most other villages. Scarce an inhabitant escaped. A youth of sixteen or seventeen years was much tried. His mother was taken with the disease, and, his father being dead, the responsibility of the household fell on Yosoji—for such was his name.

Yosoji procured all the help he could for his mother, sparing nothing in the way of medicines and attendance; but his mother grew worse day by day, until at last her life was utterly despaired of. Having no other resource left to him, Yosoji resolved to consult a famous fortuneteller and magician, Kamo Yamakiko.

Kamo Yamakiko told Yosoji that there was but one chance that his mother could be cured, and that lay much with his own courage. ‘If,’ said the fortuneteller, ‘you will go to a small brook which flows from the southwestern side of Mount Fuji, and find a small shrine near its source, where Oki-naga-suku-neo 1 is worshipped, you may be able to cure your mother by bringing her water therefrom to drink. But I warn you that the place is full of dangers from wild beasts and other things, and that you may not return at all or even reach the place.’

Yosoji, in no way discouraged, made his mind up that he would start on the following morning, and, thanking the fortuneteller, went home to prepare for an early start.

At three o’clock next morning he was off.

It was a long and rough walk, one which he had never taken before; but he trudged gaily on, being sound of limb and bent on an errand of deepest concern.

Towards midday Yosoji arrived at a place where three rough paths met, and was sorely puzzled which to take. While he was deliberating the figure of a beautiful girl clad in white came towards him through the forest. At first Yosoji felt inclined to run; but the figure called to him in silvery notes, saying:

‘Do not go. I know what you are here for. You are a brave lad and a faithful son. I will be your guide to the stream, and—take my word for it—its waters will cure your mother. Follow me if you will, and have no fear, though the road is bad and dangerous.’

The girl turned, and Yosoji followed in wonderment.

In silence the two went for fully four miles, always upwards and into deeper and more gloomy forests. At last a small shrine was reached, in front of which were two Torii’s, and from a cleft of a rock gurgled a silvery stream, the clearness of which was such as Yosoji had never seen before.

‘There,’ said the white-robed girl, ‘is the stream of which you are in search. Fill your gourd, and drink of it yourself, for the waters will prevent you catching the plague. Make haste, for it grows late, and it would not be well for you to be here at night. I shall guide you back to the place where I met you.’

Yosoji did as he was bid, drinking, and then filling the bottle to the brim.

Much faster did they return than they had come, for the way was all downhill. On reaching the meeting of the three paths Yosoji bowed low to his guide, and thanked her for her great kindness; and the girl told him again that it was her pleasure to help so dutiful a son.

‘In three days you will want more water for your mother,’ said she, ‘and I shall be at the same place to be your guide again.’

‘May I not ask to whom I am indebted for this great kindness?’ asked Yosoji.

‘No: you must not ask, for I should not tell you,’ answered the girl. Bowing again, Yosoji proceeded on his way as fast as he could, wondering greatly.

On reaching home he found his mother worse. He gave her a cup of the water, and told her of his adventures. During the night Yosoji awoke as usual to attend to his mother’s wants, and to give her another bowl of water. Next morning he found that she was decidedly better. During the day he gave her three more doses, and on the morning of the third day he set forth to keep his appointment with the fair lady in white, whom he found seated waiting for him on a rock at the meeting of the three paths.

‘Your mother is better I can see from your happy face,’ said she. ‘Now follow me as before, and make haste. Come again in three days, and I will meet you. It will take five trips in all, for the water must be taken fresh. You may give some to the sick villagers as well.’

Five times did Yosoji take the trip. At the end of the fifth his mother was perfectly well, and must thankful for her restoration; besides which, most of the villagers who had not died were cured. Yosoji was the hero of the hour. Every one marvelled, and wondered who the white-robed girl was; for, though they had heard of the shrine of Oki-naga-suku-neo, none of them knew where it was, and but few would have dared to go if they had known. Of course, all knew that Yosoji was indebted in the first place to the fortuneteller Kamo Yamakiko, to whom the whole village sent presents. Yosoji was not easy in his mind. In spite of the good he had brought about, he thought to himself that he owed the whole of his success in finding and bringing the water to the village to his fair guide, and he did not feel that he had. shown sufficient gratitude. Always he had hurried home as soon as he had got the precious water, bowing his thanks. That was all, and now he felt as if more were due. Surely prayers at the shrine were due, or something; and who was the lady in white? He must find out. Curiosity called upon him to do so. Thus Yosoji resolved to pay one more visit to the spring, and started early in the morning.

Now familiar with the road, he did not stop at the meeting of the three paths, but pursued his way directly to the shrine. It was the first time he had travelled the road alone, and in spite of himself he felt afraid, though he could not say why. Perhaps it was the oppressive gloom of the mysterious dark forest, overshadowed by the holy mountain of Fuji, which in itself was more mysterious still, and filled one both with superstitious and religious feelings and a feeling of awe as well. No one of any imagination can approach the mountain even to-day without having one or all of these emotions.

Yosoji, however, sped on, as fast as he could go, and arrived at the shrine of Oki-naga-suku-neo. He found that the stream had dried up. There was not a drop of water left. Yosoji flung himself upon his knees before the shrine and thanked the God of Long Breath that he had been the means of curing his mother and the surviving villagers. He prayed that his guide to the spring might reveal her presence, and that he might be enabled to meet her once more to thank her for her kindness. When he