One fine spring day two friends went out to a moor to gather fern,
attended by a boy with a bottle of wine and a box of provisions. As they
were straying about, they saw at the foot of a hill two foxes that had
brought out their cub to play; and whilst they looked on, struck by the
strangeness of the sight, three children came up from a neighbouring
village with baskets in their hands, on the same errand as themselves.
As soon as the children saw the foxes, they picked up a bamboo stick and
took the creatures stealthily in the rear; and when the old foxes took
to flight, they surrounded them and beat them with the stick, so that
they ran away as fast as their legs could carry them; but two of the
boys held down the cub, and, seizing it by the scruff of the neck, went
off in high glee.
The two friends were looking on all the while, and one of them, raising
his voice, shouted out, "Hallo! you boys! what are you doing with that
fox?"
The eldest of the boys replied, "We're going to take him home and sell
him to a young man in our village. He'll buy him, and then he'll boil
him in a pot and eat him."
"Well," replied the other, after considering the matter attentively, "I
suppose it's all the same to you whom you sell him to. You'd better let
me have him."
"Oh, but the young man from our village promised us a good sum if we
could find a fox, and got us to come out to the hills and catch one; and
so we can't sell him to you at any price."
"Well, I suppose it cannot be helped, then; but how much would the young
man give you for the cub?"
"Oh, he'll give us three hundred cash at least."
"Then I'll give you half a bu;[1] and so you'll gain five hundred cash
by the transaction."
"Oh, we'll sell him for that, sir. How shall we hand him over to you?"
"Just tie him up here," said the other; and so he made fast the cub
round the neck with the string of the napkin in which the luncheon-box
was wrapped, and gave half a bu to the three boys, who ran away
delighted.
The man's friend, upon this, said to him: "Well, certainly you have got
queer tastes. What on earth are you going to keep the fox for?"
"How very unkind of you to speak of my tastes like that. If we had not
interfered just now, the fox's cub would have lost its life. If we had
not seen the affair, there would have been no help for it. How could I
stand by and see life taken? It was but a little I spent--only half a
bu--to save the cub, but had it cost a fortune I should not have grudged
it. I thought you were intimate enough with me to know my heart; but
to-day you have accused me of being eccentric, and I see how mistaken I
have been in you. However, our friendship shall cease from this day
forth."
And when he had said this with a great deal of firmness, the other,
retiring backward and bowing with his hands on his knees, replied:
"Indeed, indeed, I am filled with admiration at the goodness of your
heart. When I hear you speak thus, I feel more than ever how great is
the love I bear you. I thought that you might wish to use the cub as a
sort of decoy to lead the old ones to you, that you might pray them to
bring prosperity and virtue to your house. When I called you eccentric
just now, I was but trying your heart, because I had some suspicions of
you; and now I am truly ashamed of myself."
And as he spoke, still bowing, the other replied: "Really! was that
indeed your thought? Then I pray you to forgive me for my violent
language."
When the two friends had thus become reconciled, they examined the cub,
and saw that it had a slight wound in its foot, and could not walk; and
while they were thinking what they should do, they spied out the herb
called "Doctor's Nakasé," which was just sprouting; so they rolled up a
little of it in their fingers and applied it to the part. Then they
pulled out some boiled rice from their luncheon-box and offered it to
the cub, but it showed no sign of wanting to eat; so they stroked it
gently on the back and petted it; and as the pain of the wound seemed to
have subsided, they were admiring the properties of the herb, when,
opposite to them, they saw the old foxes sitting watching them by the
side of some stacks of rice straw.
"Look there! the old foxes have come back, out of fear for their cub's
safety. Come, we will set it free!" And with these words they untied the
string round the cub's neck, and turned its head toward the spot where
the old foxes sat; and as the wounded foot was no longer painful, with
one bound it dashed to its parents' side and licked them all over for
joy, while they seemed to bow their thanks, looking toward the two
friends. So, with peace in their hearts, the latter went off to another
place, and, choosing a pretty spot, produced the wine bottle and ate
their noonday meal; and after a pleasant day, they returned to their
homes, and became firmer friends than ever.
Now the man who had rescued the fox's cub was a tradesman in good
circumstances: he had three or four agents and two maid-servants,
besides men-servants; and altogether he lived in a liberal manner. He
was married, and this union had brought him one son, who had reached his
tenth year, but had been attacked by a strange disease which defied all
the physicians' skill and drugs. At last a famous physician prescribed
the liver taken from a live fox, which, as he said, would certainly
effect a cure. If that were not forthcoming, the most expensive medicine
in the world would not restore the boy to health. When the parents heard
this, they were at their wits' end. However, they told the state of the
case to a man who lived on the mountains. "Even though our child should
die for it," they said, "we will not ourselves deprive other creatures
of their lives; but you, who live among the hills, are sure to hear when
your neighbours go out fox-hunting. We don't care what price we might
have to pay for a fox's liver; pray, buy one for us at any expense." So
they pressed him to exert himself on their behalf; and he, having
promised faithfully to execute the commission, went his way.
In the night of the following day there came a messenger, who announced
himself as coming from the person who had undertaken to procure the
fox's liver; so the master of the house went out to see him.
"I have come from Mr. So-and-so. Last night the fox's liver that you
required fell into his hands; so he sent me to bring it to you." With
these words the messenger produced a small jar, adding, "In a few days
he will let you know the price."
When he had delivered his message, the master of the house was greatly
pleased and said, "Indeed, I am deeply grateful for this kindness, which
will save my son's life."
Then the good wife came out, and received the jar with every mark of
politeness.
"We must make a present to the messenger."
"Indeed, sir, I've already been paid for my trouble."
"Well, at any rate, you must stop the night here."
"Thank you, sir: I've a relation in the next village whom I have not
seen for a long while, and I will pass the night with him;" and so he
took his leave, and went away.
The parents lost no time in sending to let the physician know that they
had procured the fox's liver. The next day the doctor came and
compounded a medicine for the patient, which at once produced a good
effect, and there was no little joy in the household. As luck would have
it, three days after this the man whom they had commissioned to buy the
fox's liver came to the house: so the goodwife hurried out to meet him
and welcome him.
"How quickly you fulfilled our wishes, and how kind of you to send at
once! The doctor prepared the medicine, and now our boy can get up and
walk about the room; and it's all owing to your goodness."
"Wait a bit!" cried the guest, who did not know what to make of the joy
of the two parents. "The commission with which you entrusted me about
the fox's liver turned out to be a matter of impossibility, so I came
to-day to make my excuses; and now I really can't understand what you
are so grateful to me for."
"We are thanking you, sir," replied the master of the house, bowing with
his hands on the ground, "for the fox's liver which we asked you to
procure for us."
"I really am perfectly unaware of having sent you a fox's liver: there
must be some mistake here. Pray inquire carefully into the matter."
"Well, this is very strange. Four nights ago, a man of some five or six
and thirty years of age came with a verbal message from you, to the
effect that you had sent him with a fox's liver, which you had just
procured, and said that he would come and tell us the price another day.
When we asked him to spend the night here, he answered that he would
lodge with a relation in the next village, and went away."
The visitor was more and more lost in amazement, and, leaning his head
on one side in deep thought, confessed that he could make nothing of it.
As for the husband and wife, they felt quite out of countenance at
having thanked a man so warmly for favours of which he denied all
knowledge; and so the visitor took his leave and went home.
That night there appeared at the pillow of the master of the house a
woman of about one or two and thirty years of age, who said: "I am the
fox that lives at such-and-such a mountain. Last spring, when I was
taking out my cub to play, it was carried off by some boys, and only
saved by your goodness. The desire to requite this kindness pierced me
to the quick. At last, when calamity attacked your house, I thought I
might be of use to you. Your son's illness could not be cured without a
liver taken from a live fox, so to repay your kindness I killed my cub
and took out its liver; then its sire, disguising himself as a
messenger, brought it to your house."
And as she spoke, the fox shed tears; and the master of the house,
wishing to thank her, moved in bed, upon which his wife awoke and asked
him what was the matter; but he too, to her great astonishment, was
biting the pillow and weeping bitterly.
"Why are you weeping thus?" asked she.
At last he sat up in bed and said: "Last spring, when I was out on a
pleasure excursion, I was the means of saving the life of a fox's cub,
as I told you at the time. The other day I told Mr. So-and-so that,
although my son were to die before my eyes, I would not be the means of
killing a fox on purpose, but asked him, in case he heard of any hunter
killing a fox, to buy it for me. How the foxes came to hear of this I
don't know; but the foxes to whom I had shown kindness killed their own
cub and took out the liver; and the old dog-fox, disguising himself as a
messenger from the person to whom we had confided the commission, came
here with it. His mate has just been at my pillow-side and told me all
about it. Hence it was that, in spite of myself, I was moved to tears."
When she heard this, the goodwife likewise was blinded by her tears, and
for a while they lay lost in thought; but at last, coming to themselves,
they lighted the lamp on the shelf on which the family idol stood, and
spent the night in reciting prayers and praises, and the next day they
published the matter to the household and to their relations and
friends. Now, although there are instances of men killing their own
children to requite a favour, there is no other example of foxes having
done such a thing; so the story became the talk of the whole country.
Now, the boy who had recovered through the efficacy of this medicine
selected the prettiest spot on the premises to erect a shrine to Inari
Sama,[2] the Fox God, and offered sacrifice to the two old foxes, for
whom he purchased the highest rank at the court of the Mikado.
* * * * *
The passage in the tale which speaks of rank being purchased for the
foxes at the court of the Mikado is, of course, a piece of nonsense.
"The saints who are worshipped in Japan," writes a native authority,
"are men who, in the remote ages, when the country was developing
itself, were sages, and by their great and virtuous deeds having earned
the gratitude of future generations, received divine honours after their
death. How can the Son of Heaven, who is the father and mother of his
people, turn dealer in ranks and honours? If rank were a matter of
barter, it would cease to be a reward to the virtuous."
All matters connected with the shrines of the Shintô, or indigenous
religion, are confided to the superintendence of the families of Yoshida
and Fushimi, Kugés or nobles of the Mikado's court at Kiyôto. The
affairs of the Buddhist or imported religion are under the care of the
family of Kanjuji. As it is necessary that those who as priests perform
the honourable office of serving the gods should be persons of some
standing, a certain small rank is procured for them through the
intervention of the representatives of the above noble families, who, on
the issuing of the required patent, receive as their perquisite a fee,
which, although insignificant in itself, is yet of importance to the
poor Kugés, whose penniless condition forms a great contrast to the
wealth of their inferiors in rank, the Daimios. I believe that this is
the only case in which rank can be bought or sold in Japan. In China, on
the contrary, in spite of what has been written by Meadows and other
admirers of the examination system, a man can be what he pleases by
paying for it; and the coveted button, which is nominally the reward of
learning and ability, is more often the prize of wealthy ignorance.
The saints who are alluded to above are the saints of the whole country,
as distinct from those who for special deeds are locally worshipped.
Touching the remedy of the fox's liver, prescribed in the tale, I may
add that there would be nothing strange in this to a person acquainted
with the Chinese pharmacopoeia, which the Japanese long exclusively
followed, although they are now successfully studying the art of healing
as practised in the West. When I was at Peking, I saw a Chinese
physician prescribe a decoction of three scorpions for a child struck
down with fever; and on another occasion a groom of mine, suffering from
dysentery, was treated with acupuncture of the tongue. The art of
medicine would appear to be at the present time in China much in the
state in which it existed in Europe in the sixteenth century, when the
excretions and secretions of all manner of animals, saurians, and
venomous snakes and insects, and even live bugs, were administered to
patients. "Some physicians," says Matthiolus, "use the ashes of
scorpions, burnt alive, for retention caused by either renal or vesical
calculi. But I have myself thoroughly experienced the utility of an oil
I make myself, whereof scorpions form a very large portion of the
ingredients. If only the region of the heart and all the pulses of the
body be anointed with it, it will free the patients from the effects of
all kinds of poisons taken by the mouth, corrosive ones excepted."
Decoctions of Egyptian mummies were much commended, and often prescribed
with due academical solemnity; and the bones of the human skull,
pulverized and administered with oil, were used as a specific in cases
of renal calculus. (See Petri Andreæ Matthioli "Opera," 1574.)
These remarks were made to me by a medical gentleman to whom I mentioned
the Chinese doctor's prescription of scorpion tea, and they seem to me
so curious that I insert them for comparison's sake.