Long, long ago, one bright autumn day in Japan, it happened, that a
pink-faced monkey and a yellow crab were playing together along the
bank of a river. As they were running about, the crab found a
rice-dumpling and the monkey a persimmon-seed.
The crab picked up the rice-dumpling and showed it to the monkey,
saying:
“Look what a nice thing I have found!”
Then the monkey held up his persimmon-seed and said:
“I also have found something good! Look!”
Now though the monkey is always very fond of persimmon fruit, he had no
use for the seed he had just found. The persimmon-seed is as hard and
uneatable as a stone. He, therefore, in his greedy nature, felt very
envious of the crab’s nice dumpling, and he proposed an exchange. The
crab naturally did not see why he should give up his prize for a hard
stone-like seed, and would not consent to the monkey’s proposition.
Then the cunning monkey began to persuade the crab, saying:
“How unwise you are not to think of the future! Your rice-dumpling can
be eaten now, and is certainly much bigger than my seed; but if you sow
this seed in the ground it will soon grow and become a great tree in a
few years, and bear an abundance of fine ripe persimmons year after
year. If only I could show it to you then with the yellow fruit hanging
on its branches! Of course, if you don’t believe me I shall sow it
myself; though I am sure, later on, you will be very sorry that you did
not take my advice.”
The simple-minded crab could not resist the monkey’s clever persuasion.
He at last gave in and consented to the monkey’s proposal, and the
exchange was made. The greedy monkey soon gobbled up the dumpling, and
with great reluctance gave up the persimmon-seed to the crab. He would
have liked to keep that too, but he was afraid of making the crab angry
and of being pinched by his sharp scissor-like claws. They then
separated, the monkey going home to his forest trees and the crab to
his stones along the river-side. As soon as the crab reached home he
put the persimmon-seed in the ground as the monkey had told him.
In the following spring the crab was delighted to see the shoot of a
young tree push its way up through the ground. Each year it grew
bigger, till at last it blossomed one spring, and in the following
autumn bore some fine large persimmons. Among the broad smooth green
leaves the fruit hung like golden balls, and as they ripened they
mellowed to a deep orange. It was the little crab’s pleasure to go out
day by day and sit in the sun and put out his long eyes in the same way
as a snail puts out its horn, and watch the persimmons ripening to
perfection.
“How delicious they will be to eat!” he said to himself.
At last, one day, he knew the persimmons must be quite ripe and he
wanted very much to taste one. He made several attempts to climb the
tree, in the vain hope of reaching one of the beautiful persimmons
hanging above him; but he failed each time, for a crab’s legs are not
made for climbing trees but only for running along the ground and over
stones, both of which he can do most cleverly. In his dilemma he
thought of his old playmate the monkey, who, he knew, could climb trees
better than any one else in the world. He determined to ask the monkey
to help him, and set out to find him.
Running crab-fashion up the stony river bank, over the pathways into
the shadowy forest, the crab at last found the monkey taking an
afternoon nap in his favorite pine-tree, with his tail curled tight
around a branch to prevent him from falling off in his dreams. He was
soon wide awake, however, when he heard himself called, and eagerly
listening to what the crab told him. When he heard that the seed which
he had long ago exchanged for a rice-dumpling had grown into a tree and
was now bearing good fruit, he was delighted, for he at once devised a
cunning plan which would give him all the persimmons for himself.
He consented to go with the crab to pick the fruit for him. When they
both reached the spot, the monkey was astonished to see what a fine
tree had sprung from the seed, and with what a number of ripe
persimmons the branches were loaded.
He quickly climbed the tree and began to pluck and eat, as fast as he
could, one persimmon after another. Each time he chose the best and
ripest he could find, and went on eating till he could eat no more. Not
one would he give to the poor hungry crab waiting below, and when he
had finished there was little but the hard, unripe fruit left.
You can imagine the feelings of the poor crab after waiting patiently,
for so long as he had done, for the tree to grow and the fruit to
ripen, when he saw the monkey devouring all the good persimmons. He was
so disappointed that he ran round and round the tree calling to the
monkey to remember his promise. The monkey at first took no notice of
the crab’s complaints, but at last he picked out the hardest, greenest
persimmon he could find and aimed it at the crab’s head. The persimmon
is as hard as stone when it is unripe. The monkey’s missile struck home
and the crab was sorely hurt by the blow. Again and again, as fast as
he could pick them, the monkey pulled off the hard persimmons and threw
them at the defenseless crab till he dropped dead, covered with wounds
all over his body. There he lay a pitiful sight at the foot of the tree
he had himself planted.
When the wicked monkey saw that he had killed the crab he ran away from
the spot as fast as he could, in fear and trembling, like a coward as
he was.
Now the crab had a son who had been playing with a friend not far from
the spot where this sad work had taken place. On the way home he came
across his father dead, in a most dreadful condition—his head was
smashed and his shell broken in several places, and around his body lay
the unripe persimmons which had done their deadly work. At this
dreadful sight the poor young crab sat down and wept.
But when he had wept for some time he told himself that this crying
would do no good; it was his duty to avenge his father’s murder, and
this he determined to do. He looked about for some clue which would
lead him to discover the murderer. Looking up at the tree he noticed
that the best fruit had gone, and that all around lay bits of peel and
numerous seeds strewn on the ground as well as the unripe persimmons
which had evidently been thrown at his father. Then he understood that
the monkey was the murderer, for he now remembered that his father had
once told him the story of the rice-dumpling and the persimmon-seed.
The young crab knew that monkeys liked persimmons above all other
fruit, and he felt sure that his greed for the coveted fruit had been
the cause of the old crab’s death. Alas!
He at first thought of going to attack the monkey at once, for he
burned with rage. Second thoughts, however, told him that this was
useless, for the monkey was an old and cunning animal and would be hard
to overcome. He must meet cunning with cunning and ask some of his
friends to help him, for he knew it would be quite out of his power to
kill him alone.
The young crab set out at once to call on the mortar, his father’s old
friend, and told him of all that had happened. He besought the mortar
with tears to help him avenge his father’s death. The mortar was very
sorry when he heard the woful tale and promised at once to help the
young crab punish the monkey to death. He warned him that he must be
very careful in what he did, for the monkey was a strong and cunning
enemy. The mortar now sent to fetch the bee and the chestnut (also the
crab’s old friends) to consult them about the matter. In a short time
the bee and the chestnut arrived. When they were told all the details
of the old crab’s death and of the monkey’s wickedness and greed, they
both gladly consented to help the young crab in his revenge.
After talking for a long time as to the ways and means of carrying out
their plans they separated, and Mr. Mortar went home with the young
crab to help him bury his poor father.
While all this was taking place the monkey was congratulating himself
(as the wicked often do before their punishment comes upon them) on all
he had done so neatly. He thought it quite a fine thing that he had
robbed his friend of all his ripe persimmons and then that he had
killed him. Still, smile as hard as he might, he could not banish
altogether the fear of the consequences should his evil deeds be
discovered. IF he were found out (and he told himself that this could
not be for he had escaped unseen) the crab’s family would be sure to
bear him hatred and seek to take revenge on him. So he would not go
out, and kept himself at home for several days. He found this kind of
life, however, extremely dull, accustomed as he was to the free life of
the woods, and at last he said:
“No one knows that it was I who killed the crab! I am sure that the old
thing breathed his last before I left him. Dead crabs have no mouths!
Who is there to tell that I am the murderer? Since no one knows, what
is the use of shutting myself up and brooding over the matter? What is
done cannot be undone!”
With this he wandered out into the crab settlement and crept about as
slyly as possible near the crab’s house and tried to hear the
neighbors’ gossip round about. He wanted to find out what the crabs
were saving about their chief’s death, for the old crab had been the
chief of the tribe. But he heard nothing and said to himself:
“They are all such fools that they don’t know and don’t care who
murdered their chief!”
Little did he know in his so-called “monkey’s wisdom” that this seeming
unconcern was part of the young crab’s plan. He purposely pretended not
to know who killed his father, and also to believe that he had met his
death through his own fault. By this means he could the better keep
secret the revenge on the monkey, which he was meditating.
So the monkey returned home from his walk quite content. He told
himself he had nothing now to fear.
One fine day, when the monkey was sitting at home, he was surprised by
the appearance of a messenger from the young crab. While he was
wondering what this might mean, the messenger bowed before him and
said:
“I have been sent by my master to inform you that his father died the
other day in falling from a persimmon tree while trying to climb the
tree after fruit. This, being the seventh day, is the first anniversary
after his death, and my master has prepared a little festival in his
father’s honor, and bids you come to participate in it as you were one
of his best friends. My master hopes you will honor his house with your
kind visit.”
When the monkey heard these words he rejoiced in his inmost heart, for
all his fears of being suspected were now at rest. He could not guess
that a plot had just been set in motion against him. He pretended to be
very surprised at the news of the crab’s death, and said:
“I am, indeed, very sorry to hear of your chief’s death. We were great
friends as you know. I remember that we once exchanged a rice-dumpling
for a persimmon-seed. It grieves me much to think that that seed was in
the end the cause of his death. I accept your kind invitation with many
thanks. I shall be delighted to do honor to my poor old friend!” And he
screwed some false tears from his eyes.
The messenger laughed inwardly and thought, “The wicked monkey is now
dropping false tears, but within a short time he shall shed real ones.”
But aloud he thanked the monkey politely and went home.
When he had gone, the wicked monkey laughed aloud at what he thought
was the young crab’s innocence, and without the least feeling began to
look forward to the feast to be held that day in honor of the dead
crab, to which he had been invited. He changed his dress and set out
solemnly to visit the young crab.
He found all the members of the crab’s family and his relatives waiting
to receive and welcome him. As soon as the bows of meeting were over
they led him to a hall. Here the young chief mourner came to receive
him. Expressions of condolence and thanks were exchanged between them,
and then they all sat down to a luxurious feast and entertained the
monkey as the guest of honor.
The feast over, he was next invited to the tea-ceremony room to drink a
cup of tea. When the young crab had conducted the monkey to the tearoom
he left him and retired. Time passed and still he did not return. At
last the monkey became impatient. He said to himself:
“This tea ceremony is always a very slow affair. I am tired of waiting
so long. I am very thirsty after drinking so much sake at the dinner!”
He then approached the charcoal fire-place and began to pour out some
hot water from the kettle boiling there, when something burst out from
the ashes with a great pop and hit the monkey right in the neck. It was
the chestnut, one of the crab’s friends, who had hidden himself in the
fireplace. The monkey, taken by surprise, jumped backward, and then
started to run out of the room.
The bee, who was hiding outside the screens, now flew out and stung him
on the cheek. The monkey was in great pain, his neck was burned by the
chestnut and his face badly stung by the bee, but he ran on screaming
and chattering with rage.
Now the stone mortar had hidden himself with several other stones on
the top of the crab’s gate, and as the monkey ran underneath, the
mortar and all fell down on the top of the monkey’s head. Was it
possible for the monkey to bear the weight of the mortar falling on him
from the top of the gate? He lay crushed and in great pain, quite
unable to get up. As he lay there helpless the young crab came up, and,
holding his great claw scissors over the monkey, he said:
“Do you now remember that you murdered my father?”
“Then you—are—my—enemy?” gasped the monkey brokenly.
“Of course,” said the young crab.
“It—was—your—father’s—fault—not—mine!” gasped the unrepentant monkey.
“Can you still lie? I will soon put an end to your breath!” and with
that he cut off the monkey’s head with his pitcher claws. Thus the
wicked monkey met his well-merited punishment, and the young crab
avenged his father’s death.
This is the end of the story of the monkey, the crab, and the
persimmon-seed.