THIS insect, whose name signifies "day-darkening," is the most
remarkable of all the Japanese cicadae. It is not the finest singer
among them; but even as a melodist it ranks second only to the
_tsuku-tsuku-boshi_. It is the special minstrel of twilight,
singing only at dawn and sunset; whereas most of the other semi
make their music only in the full blaze of day, pausing even when
rain-clouds obscure the sun. In Tokyo the _higurashi_ usually
appears about the end of June, or the beginning of July. Its wonderful
cry,--_kana-kana-kana-kana-kana_,--beginning always in a very high
clear key, and slowly descending, is almost exactly like the sound of
a good hand-bell, very quickly rung. It is not a clashing sound, as of
violent ringing; it is quick, steady, and of surprising sonority. I
believe that a single _higurashi_ can be plainly heard a quarter of a
mile away; yet, as the old Japanese poet Yayu observed, "no matter
how many _higurashi_ be singing together, we never find them noisy."
Though powerful and penetrating as a resonance of metal, the
_higurashi's_ call is musical even to the degree of sweetness; and
there is a peculiar melancholy in it that accords with the hour of
gloaming. But the most astonishing fact in regard to the cry of the
_higurashi_ is the individual quality characterizing the note of each
insect. No two _higurashi_ sing precisely in the same tone. If you
hear a dozen of them singing at once, you will find that the timbre of
each voice is recognizably different from every other. Certain notes
ring like silver, others vibrate like bronze; and, besides varieties
of timbre suggesting bells of various weight and composition, there
are even differences in tone, that suggest different _forms_ of bell.
I have already said that the name _higurashi_ means "day-darkening,"--in
the sense of twilight, gloaming, dusk; and there are many Japanese
verses containing plays on the word,--the poets affecting to believe, as
in the following example, that the crying of the insect hastens the
coming of darkness:--
Higurashi ya!
Suteteoitemo
Kururu hi wo.
O Higurashi!--even if you let it alone, day darkens fast
enough!
This, intended to express a melancholy mood, may seem to the Western
reader far-fetched. But another little poem--referring to the effect of
the sound upon the conscience of an idler--will be appreciated by any
one accustomed to hear the _higurashi_. I may observe, in this
connection, that the first clear evening cry of the insect is quite as
startling as the sudden ringing of a bell:--
Higurashi ya!
Kyo no ketai wo
Omou-toki.
--RIKEI.
Already, O Higurashi, your call announces the evening!
Alas, for the passing day, with its duties left undone!