It was the custom in old times that as soon as a Japanese boy reached
manhood he should leave his home and roam through the land in search of
adventures. Sometimes he would meet with a young man bent on the same
business as himself, and then they would fight in a friendly manner,
merely to prove which was the stronger, but on other occasions the
enemy would turn out to be a robber, who had become the terror of the
neighbourhood, and then the battle was in deadly earnest.
One day a youth started off from his native village, resolved never
to come back till he had done some great deed that would make his name
famous. But adventures did not seem very plentiful just then, and he
wandered about for a long time without meeting either with fierce giants
or distressed damsels. At last he saw in the distance a wild mountain,
half covered with a dense forest, and thinking that this promised well
at once took the road that led to it. The difficulties he met with--huge
rocks to be climbed, deep rivers to be crossed, and thorny tracts to be
avoided--only served to make his heart beat quicker, for he was really
brave all through, and not merely when he could not help himself, like a
great many people. But in spite of all his efforts he could not find his
way out of the forest, and he began to think he should have to pass the
night there. Once more he strained his eyes to see if there was no place
in which he could take shelter, and this time he caught sight of a small
chapel in a little clearing. He hastened quickly towards it, and curling
himself up in a warm corner soon fell asleep.
Not a sound was heard through the whole forest for some hours, but at
midnight there suddenly arose such a clamour that the young man, tired
as he was, started broad awake in an instant. Peeping cautiously between
the wooden pillars of the chapel, he saw a troop of hideous cats,
dancing furiously, making the night horrible with their yells. The
full moon lighted up the weird scene, and the young warrior gazed
with astonishment, taking great care to keep still, lest he should be
discovered. After some time he thought that in the midst of all their
shrieks he could make out the words, ‘Do not tell Schippeitaro! Keep it
hidden and secret! Do not tell Schippeitaro!’ Then, the midnight
hour having passed, they all vanished, and the youth was left alone.
Exhausted by all that had been going on round him, he flung himself on
the ground and slept till the sun rose.
The moment he woke he felt very hungry, and began to think how he could
get something to eat. So he got up and walked on, and before he had gone
very far was lucky enough to find a little side-path, where he could
trace men’s footsteps. He followed the track, and by-and-by came on some
scattered huts, beyond which lay a village. Delighted at this discovery,
he was about to hasten to the village when he heard a woman’s voice
weeping and lamenting, and calling on the men to take pity on her and
help her. The sound of her distress made him forget he was hungry, and
he strode into the hut to find out for himself what was wrong. But
the men whom he asked only shook their heads and told him it was not a
matter in which he could give any help, for all this sorrow was caused
by the Spirit of the Mountain, to whom every year they were bound to
furnish a maiden for him to eat.
‘To-morrow night,’ said they, ‘the horrible creature will come for his
dinner, and the cries you have heard were uttered by the girl before
you, upon whom the lot has fallen.’
And when the young man asked if the girl was carried off straight from
her home, they answered no, but that a large cask was set in the forest
chapel, and into this she was fastened.
As he listened to this story, the young man was filled with a great
longing to rescue the maiden from her dreadful fate. The mention of the
chapel set him thinking of the scene of the previous night, and he
went over all the details again in his mind. ‘Who is Schippeitaro?’ he
suddenly asked; ‘can any of you tell me?’
‘Schippeitaro is the great dog that belongs to the overseer of our
prince,’ said they; ‘and he lives not far away.’ And they began to laugh
at the question, which seemed to them so odd and useless.
The young man did not laugh with them, but instead left the hut and went
straight to the owner of the dog, whom he begged to lend him the animal
just for one night. Schippeitaro’s master was not at all willing to
give him in charge to a man of whom he knew nothing, but in the end
he consented, and the youth led the dog away, promising faithfully to
return him next day to his master. He next hurried to the hut where
the maiden lived, and entreated her parents to shut her up safely in a
closet, after which he took Schippeitaro to the cask, and fastened him
into it. In the evening he knew that the cask would be placed in the
chapel, so he hid himself there and waited.
At midnight, when the full moon appeared above the top of the mountain,
the cats again filled the chapel and shrieked and yelled and danced
as before. But this time they had in their midst a huge black cat who
seemed to be their king, and whom the young man guessed to be the Spirit
of the Mountain. The monster looked eagerly about him, and his eyes
sparkled with joy when he saw the cask. He bounded high into the air
with delight and uttered cries of pleasure; then he drew near and undid
the bolts.
But instead of fastening his teeth in the neck of a beautiful maiden,
Schippeitaro’s teeth were fastened in HIM, and the youth ran up and cut
off his head with his sword. The other cats were so astonished at the
turn things had taken that they forgot to run away, and the young man
and Schippeitaro between them killed several more before they thought of
escaping.
At sunrise the brave dog was taken back to his master, and from that
time the mountain girls were safe, and every year a feast was held in
memory of the young warrior and the dog Schippeitaro.
(Japanische Marchen.)