of mats woven from strips of shell-nacre, bound at the sides with an inch
border of pink coral. The ceiling was made of the rarest of pink shells
wrought into flowers and squares. The walls were decorated with the same
material, representing sea-scenes, jewels and tortoise shell patterns. In
the _tokonoma_, or raised space, was a bouquet of sea-weed of richest
dyes, and in the nooks was an open cabinet holding several of the
queen's own treasures, such as a tiara which looked like woven threads of
crystal (Euplectella), and a toilet box and writing case made of solid
pink coral. The gem of all was a screen having eight folds, on which was
depicted the palace and throne-room of Riu Gu, the visit of Toda, and the
procession of the Queen, nobles and grandees that escorted the brave
archer, when he took his farewell to return to earth.
The Queen sat on the glistening sill of the wide window looking out over
her gardens, her two maids sitting at her feet. The sound of music wafted
through the coral groves and crystal grottoes reached her ear.
"_O medzurashi gozarimasu!_" "(How wonderful this is!)" exclaimed the
queen, half aloud. "What strange music is this? It is neither guitar,
nor hand, nor shoulder drum, nor singing. It seems to be a mixture of
all. Hear! It sounds as if a band with many instruments was playing to
the accompaniment of a large choir of voices."
True enough! It was the most curious music ever heard in Riu Gu, for to
tell the truth the voices were not in perfect accord, though all kept
good time. The sound seemed to issue from the mansion of Lord
Cuttle-fish, the palace physician. The queen's curiosity was roused.
"I shall go and see what it is," said she, as she rose up. Suddenly she
recollected, and exclaimed:
"O, no, it would not be proper for me to be seen in public at this hour
of the evening, and if it is in Lord Cuttle-fish's mansion, I could not
enter without a retinue, No, it won't do for me, it's beneath my
dignity," said her majesty to herself as she went over to touch her
anemones, while her maids fanned her, seeing their mistress flushed with
excitement, and fearing a relapse.
Curiosity got the better of the queenly lady, and off she started with
only her two maids who held aloft over her head, the long pearl-handled
fans made of white shark's fins.
"Besides," thought she, "perhaps the concert is outside, in the garden.
If so, I can look down and see from the great green rock that overlooks
it, and my lord Kai Riu O need not know of it."
The Queen walked over her pebbled garden walk, avoiding the great high
road paved with white coral rock, and taking a by-path trimmed with
fan-coral. The sound of the drums and voices grew louder, until as she
reached the top of a green rock back of Lord Cuttle-fish's garden, the
whole performance was open to her view.
It was so funny, and the queen was so overcome at the comical sight, that
she nearly fell down and got the hysterics, laughing so heartily. She
utterly forgot her dignity, and laughed till the tears ran down her face.
She was so afraid she would scream out, that she nearly choked herself to
death with her sleeve, while her alarmed maids, though meaning nothing by
their acts but friendly help, slapped her back to give her breath.
There, at the top of a high green rock, all covered with barnacles, on a
huge tuft of sponge, sat Lord Cuttle-fish, playing on three musical
instruments at once. His great warty speckled head, six feet high, like a
huge bag upside down, was bent forward to read the notes of his music
book by the light of a wax candle, which was stuck in the feelers of a
prickly lobster, and patiently held. Of his six pulpy arms one long one
ran down like the trunk of an elephant, fingering along the pages of a
music book. Two others were used to play the guitar, one to grasp the
handle and pinch the strings, and the other to hold the ivory stick to
strike the strings. The tsutsumi (small double drum) was held on his
shoulder and neck, while still another arm curled up in a bunch, punched
it like a fist. Below him was a another, a bass drum, set in a frame, and
in his last leg, or arm, was clutched a heavy drum-stick, which pounded
out tremendous noise, if not music. There the old fellow sat with his
head bobbing, and all his six cuppy arms in motion, his rolling blue eyes
ogling the notes, and his mouth like an elephant's, screeching out the
song, which was made up of puns on 'tortoises,' 'monkeys,'
'jelly-fishes,' 'livers' and 'shell,' though the real words made an
entirely different sense.
All this time, in front of Lord Cuttle-fish, sat the lobster holding up
the light, like the _kurombo_, or black fellows who hold candles at the
end of long-handled candle-sticks on the stage of the theatres so that
the people may see the faces of the actors.
But the audience, or rather the orchestra was the funniest part of all.
They could hardly be called listeners, for they were all performers. On
the left was the lusty red-faced _tai_ fish with its gills wide open,
singing at the top, or rather at the bottom, of his throat, and beating
time by flapping his wide fins. Just back of him was a little gudgeon,
silent and fanning himself with a blue flat fan, having disgracefully
broken down on a high note. Next behind, on the right, was a long-nosed
gar-fish singing alto, and proud of her slender form, with the last new
thing in folding fans held in her fin. In the fore-ground squatted a
great fat frog with big bulging eyes, singing base, and leading the choir
by flapping his webbed fingers up and down with his frightful cavern of a
mouth wide open. Next, sat the stately and dignified mackerel who was
rather scandalized at the whole affair, and kept very still, refusing to
join in. At the mackerel's right fin, squeaked out the stupid flat-headed
_fugu_ fish with her big eye impolitely winking at the servant-maid just
bringing in refreshments; for the truth was, she was thirsty after so
much vocal exercise. The _fugu_ was very vain and always played the
coquette around the hooks of the fishermen who always liked to eat her
because she was so sweet, yet her flesh was poison.
"How strange it is that men will angle after that ugly hussy, when she
poisons them," was the oft-repeated remark of the gar-fish.
Just behind the herring, with one eye on Lord Cuttle-fish and one on the
coming refreshments, was the skate. The truth must be told that the
entire right wing of the orchestra was very much demoralized by the smell
of the steaming tea and eatables just about to be served. The suppon,
(tortoise with a snout like a bird's beak,) though he continued to sing,
impolitely turned his head away from Lord Cuttle-fish, and his back to
the frog that acted as precentor. The sucker, though very homely, and
bloated with fat, kept on in the chorus, and pretended not to notice the
waiter and her tray and cups. Indeed, Madame Sucker thought it quite
vulgar in the tortoise to be so eager after the cakes and wine.
In truth the concert had been long, and all were thirsty and ready for a
bite and a drink.
Suddenly the music ceased, and the long clatter on the drum announced the
end. Lord Cuttle-fish kicked over his drum, unscrewed his guitar, and
packed it away in his music box. He then slid along on his six slippery
legs to the refreshments, and actually amused the company by standing on
his head, and twirling his six cuppy arms around.
At this Miss Mackerel was quite shocked, and whispered under her fan to
the gar-fish, "It is quite undignified. What would the Queen say if she
saw it?" not knowing that the Queen was looking on.
Then all sat down on their tails, propped upright on one fin, and
produced their fans to cool themselves off. The lobster pulled off the
candle stump and ate it up, wiped his feelers, and joined the party.
The liquid refreshments consisted of sweet and clear _sake_ (rice beer)
tea, and cherry-blossom water. The solids were thunder-cakes,
egg-cracknels, boiled rice, _daikon_ radishes and macaroni, lotus-root,
_taro_, and side-dishes piled up with flies, worms, bugs and all kinds of
bait for the small fry--the finny brats that were to eat at the second
table. The tea was poured by the servants of Lord Cuttle-fish. These were
the funniest little green _kappas_, or creatures half way between a
monkey and a tortoise, with yellow eyes, hands like an ape, hair clipped
short on their heads, eyes like frogs, and a mouth that stretched from
ear to ear Poor creatures! they were only too happy to know that though
they looked like monkeys their livers would not do for medicine.
The Queen did not wait to see the end of the feast, but laughing
heartily, returned to her palace and went to sleep.
After helping himself with all the cups of his arms out of the tub of
boiled rice, until Miss Mackerel made up her mind that he was an _omeshi
gurai_, (rice glutton,) and drinking like a shoal of fishes, Lord
Cuttle-fish went home, coiled himself up into a ball, and fell asleep. He
had a headache next morning.
YORIMASA, THE BRAVE ARCHER.
Genzan Yorimasa was a brave warrior and a very useful man who lived more
than eight thousand moons ago. On account of his valor and skill in the
use of the bow he was called to Kioto, and promoted to be chief guard of
the imperial palace. At that time the emperor, Narahito, could not sleep
at night, because his rest was disturbed by a frightful beast, which
scared away even the sentinels in armor who stood on guard.
This dreadful beast had the wings of a bird, the body and claws of a
tiger, the head of a monkey, a serpent tail, and the crackling scales of
a dragon. It came after night, upon the roof of the palace, and howled
and scratched so dreadfully, that the poor mikado losing all rest, grew
weak and thin. None of the guards dare face it in hand-to-hand fight, and
none had skill enough to hit it with an arrow in the dark, though several
of the imperial corps of archers had tried again and again. When Yorimasa
received his appointment, he strung his bow carefully, and carefully
honing his steel-headed arrows, stored his quiver, and resolved to mount
guard that night with his favorite retainer.
It chanced to be a stormy night. The lightning was very vivid, and
Kaminari, the thunder-god was beating all his drums. The wind swirled
round frightfully, as though Fuden the wind-god was emptying all his
bags. Toward midnight, the falcon eye of Yorimasa saw, during a flash of
lightning, the awful beast sitting on the "devil's tile" at the tip of
the ridge-pole, on the north-east end of the roof. He bade his retainer
have a torch of straw and twigs ready to light at a moment's notice, to
loosen his blade, and wet its hilt-pin, while he fitted the notch of his
best arrow into the silk cord of his bow.
Keeping his eyes strained, he pretty soon saw the glare now of one eye,
now two eyes, as the beast with swaying head crept along the great roof
to the place on the eaves directly under the mikado's sleeping-room.
There it stopped.
This was Yorimasa's opportunity. Aiming about a foot to the right of
where he saw the eye glare, he drew his yard-length shaft clear back to
his shoulder, and let fly. A dull thud, a frightful howl, a heavy bump
on the ground, and the writhing of some creature among the pebbles, told
in a few seconds time that the shaft had struck flesh. The next instant
Yorimasa's retainer rushed out with blazing torch and joined battle with
his dirk. Seizing the beast by the neck, he quickly despatched him, by
cutting his throat. Then they flayed the monster, and the next morning
the hide was shown to his majesty.
All congratulated Yorimasa on his valor and marksmanship. Many young men,
sons of nobles and warriors, begged to become his pupils in archery. The
mikado ordered a noble of very high rank to present to Yorimasa a famous
sword named Shishi-no-[=o], (King of Wild Boars), and to give him a
lovely maid of honor named Ayami, to wife. And so the brave and the fair
were married, and to this day the fame of Yorimasa is like the
"ume-take-matsu," (plum-blossom, bamboo and pine), fragrant, green and
ever-during.
[Illustration: YORIMASA AND THE NIGHT-BEAST.]
WATANABE CUTS OFF THE ONI'S ARM.
When the capital of Japan was the city of Kioto, and the mikado dwelt in
it with all his court, there lived a brave captain of the guard named
Yorimitsu, who belonged to the famous Minamoto family. He was also called
Raiko, and by this name he is best known to all the boys and girls in
Great Japan. Under Captain Raiko were three brave guardsmen, one of whom
was named Watanabe Tsuna. The duty of these men-at-arms was to watch at
the gates leading to the palace.
It had come to pass that the blossom capital had fallen in a dreadful
condition, because the guards at the other gates had been neglected.
Thieves were numerous and murders were frequent, so that every one in the
city was afraid to go out into the streets at night. Worse than all else,
was the report that oni or imps were prowling around in the dark to seize
people by the hair of the head. Then they would drag them away to the
mountains, tear the flesh off their bones, and eat them up.
The worst place in the city, to which the horned imps came oftenest, was
at the south-western gate called the Rajo-mon.
To this post of danger, Raiko sent Tsuna, the bravest of his guards.
It was on a dark, rainy and dismal night, that Tsuna started, well-armed,
to stand sentinel at the gate. His trusty helmet was knotted over his
chin, and all the pieces of his armor were well laced up. His sandals
were girt tight to his feet, and in his belt was thrust the trusty sword,
freshly ground, until its edge was like a razor's, and with it the owner
could cut asunder a hair floating in the air.
Arriving at the red pillar of the gate, Tsuna paced up and down the stone
way with eyes and ears wide open. The wind was blowing frightfully, the
storm howled and the rain fell in such torrents that soon the cords of
Tsuna's armor and his dress were soaked through.
The great bronze bell of the temples on the hills boomed out the hours
one after another, until a single stroke told Tsuna it was the hour of
the Rat (midnight).
Two hours passed, and the hour of the Bull sounded (2 A.M.,) still Tsuna
was wide awake. The storm had lulled, but it was darker than ever.
The hour of the Tiger (3 o'clock) rung out, and the soft mellow notes of
the temple bell died away like a lullaby wooing one to sleep, spite of
will and vow.
The warrior, almost without knowing it, grew sleepy and fell into a doze.
He started and woke up. He shook himself, jingled his armor, pinched
himself, and even pulled out his little knife from the wooden scabbard of
his dirk, and pricked his leg with the point of it to keep awake, but all
in vain. Unconsciously overcome, he leaned against the gate-post, and
fell asleep.
This was just what the imp wanted. All the time he had been squatting on
the cross-piece at the top of the gate waiting his opportunity. He now
slid down as softly as a monkey, and with his iron-like claws grabbed
Tsuna by the helmet, and began to drag him into the air.
In an instant Tsuna was awake. Seizing the hairy wrist of the imp with
his left hand, with his right he drew his sword, swept it round his head,
and cut off the demon's arm. The oni, frightened and howling with pain,
leaped up the post and disappeared in the clouds.
Tsuna waited with drawn sword in hand, lest the oni might come again, but
in a few hours morning dawned. The sun rose on the pagodas and gardens
and temples of the capitol and the nine-fold circle of flowery hills.
Everything was beautiful and bright. Tsuna returned to report to his
captain, carrying the oni's arm in triumph. Raiko examined it, and loudly
praised Tsuna for his bravery, and rewarded him with a silken sash.
Now it is said that if an oni's arm be cut off it cannot be made to unite
with the body again, if kept apart for a week. So Raiko warned Tsuna to
lock it up, and watch it night and day, lest it be stolen from him.
So Tsuna went to the stone-cutters who made idols of Buddha, mortars for
pounding rice, and coffers for burying money in to be hidden away in the
ground, and bought a strong box cut out of the solid stone. It had a
heavy lid on it, which slid in a groove and came out only by touching a
secret spring. Then setting it in his bed chamber, he guarded it day and
night, keeping the gate and all his doors locked. He allowed no one who
was a stranger to look at the trophy.
Six days passed by, and Tsuna began to think his prize was sure, for were
not all his doors tight shut? So he set the box out in the middle of the
room, and twisting some rice-straw fringe in token of sure victory and
rejoicing, he sat down in ease before it. He took off his armor and put
on his court robes. During the evening, but rather late, there was a
feeble knock like that of an old woman at the gate outside.
Tsuna cried out, "Who's there?"
The squeaky voice of his aunt (as it seemed), who was a very old woman,
replied "Me, I want to see my nephew, to praise him for his bravery in
cutting the oni's arm off."
So Tsuna let her in and carefully locking the door behind her, helped the
old crone into the room, where she sat down on the mats in front of the
box and very close to it. Then she grew very talkative, and praised her
nephew's exploit, until Tsuna felt very proud.
All the time the old woman's left shoulder was covered with her dress
while her right hand was out. Then she begged earnestly to be allowed to
see the limb. Tsuna at first politely refused, but she urged, until
yielding affectionately he slid back the stone lid just a little.
"This is my arm" cried the old hag, turning into an oni, and dragging out
the arm.
She flew up to the ceiling, and was out of the smoke-slide through the
roof in a twinkling. Tsuna rushed out of the house to shoot her with an
arrow, but he saw only a demon far off in the clouds grinning horribly.
He noted carefully however that the direction of the imps' flight was to
the north-west.
A council was now held by Raiko's band, and it was decided that the
lurking-place of the demons must be in the mountains of Oye in the
province of Tango. It was resolved to hunt out and destroy the imps.
WATANABE KILLS THE GREAT SPIDER.
During the time in which Watanabe was forming his plan to destroy the
onis that lurked in the Oye mountains, the brave Raiko fell sick, and
daily grew weaker and paler. When the demons found this out they sent the
three-eyed imp called Mitsume Kozo, to plague him.
This imp, which had a snout like a hog's, three monstrous blue eyes, and
a mouth full of tusks, was glad that the brave soldier could no longer
fight the onis. He would approach the sick man in his chamber, leer
horribly at him, loll out his tongue, and pull down the lids of his eyes
with his hairy fingers, until the sight sickened Raiko more and more.
But Raiko, well or ill, always slept with his trusty sword under his
pillow, and pretending to be greatly afraid, and to cower under the
bed-clothes, the kozo grew bolder and bolder. When the imp was near the
bed, Raiko drew his blade, and cut the oni across his huge double nose.
This made the demon howl, and he ran away, leaving tracks of blood.
When Tsuna and his band heard of their brave master's exploit, they came
to congratulate him, and offered to hunt out the demon and destroy him.
They followed the red drops until they came to a cavern in the mountains.
Entering this they saw in the gloom a spider six feet high, with legs as
long as a fishing-pole, and as thick as a daikon radish. Two great
yellow eyes glared at them like lamps. They noticed a great gaping wound
as if done by a sword-cut on his snout.
It was a horrible, nasty hairy thing to fight with swords, since to get
near enough, they would be in danger of the creature's claws. So Tsuna
went and chopped down a tree as thick as a man's leg, leaving the roots
on, while his comrades prepared a rope to tie up the monster like a fly
in a web. Then with a loud yell Tsuna rushed at the spider, felled him
with a blow, and held him down with the tree and roots so he could not
bite or use his claws. Seeing this, his comrades rushed in, and bound the
monster's legs tight to his body so that he could not move. Drawing their
swords they passed them through his body and finished him. Returning in
triumph to the city, they found their dear captain recovered from his
illness.
Raiko thanked his brave warriors for their exploits, made a feast for
them, and gave them many presents. At this feast Captain Raiko told them
that he had received orders from the mikado to march against the oni's
den in Tango, slaughter them all, and rescue the prisoners he should find
there. Then he showed them his commission written in large letters,
"I command you, Raiko, to chastise the onis."
He also allowed them to examine the gold brocade bag, in which it was
kept, and which one of the fair ladies of the court had made for him with
her own tapering fingers.
At this time many families in Kioto were grieving over the loss of their
children, and even while Tsuna had been away, several lovely damsels had
been seized and taken to the demon's den.
Lest the onis might hear of their coming, and escape, the four trusty men
disguised themselves as Komuso or wandering priests of the mountains.
They put on over their helmets, huge hats like wash-bowls, made of straw,
woven so tightly that no one could see their faces. They covered their
armor with very cheap and common clothes, and then after worshipping at
the shrines, began their march.
RAIKO AND THE SHI-TEN DOJI.
Quite pathless were the desolate mountains of Tango, for no one ever went
into them except once in a while a poor woodcutter or charcoal-burner;
yet Raiko and his men set out with stout hearts. There were no bridges
over the streams, and frightful precipices abounded. Once they had to
stop and build a bridge by felling a tree, and walking across it over a
dangerous chasm. Once they came to a steep rock, to descend which they
must make a ladder of creeping vines. At last they reached a dense grove
at the top of a cliff, far up to the clouds, which seemed as if it might
contain the demon's castle.
Approaching, they found a pretty maiden washing some clothes which had
spots of blood on them. They said to her, "Sister, Miss, why are you
here, and what are you doing?"
"Ah," said she, with a deep sigh, "you must not come here. This is the
haunt of demons. They eat human flesh and they will eat yours." "Look
there" said she pointing to a pile of white bones of men, women and
children, "You must go down the mountain as quickly as you came." Saying
this she burst into tears.
But instead of being frightened or sorrowful, the brave fellows nearly
danced for joy. "We have come here for the purpose of destroying the
demons by the mikado's orders," said Raiko, patting his breast, where
inside his dress in the damask bag was the imperial order.
At this the maiden dried her tears and smiled so sweetly that Raiko's
heart was touched by her beauty.
"But how came you to live among these cannibal demons," asked Raiko.
She blushed deeply as she replied sadly "Although they eat men and old
women, they keep the young maidens to wait on them."
"It's a great pity" said Raiko, "but we shall now avenge our fellow
subjects of the mikado, as well as your shame and cruel treatment, if you
will show us the way up the cliff to the den."
They began to climb the hill but they had not gone far before they met a
young oni who was a cook in the great d[=o]ji's kitchen. He was carrying
a human limb for his master's lunch. They gnashed their teeth silently,
and clutched their swords under their coats. Yet they courteously saluted
the cook-demon, and asked for an interview with the chief. The demon
smiled in his sleeve, thinking what a fine dinner his master would make
of the four men.
A few feet forward, and a turn in the path brought them to the front of
the demon's castle. Among tall and mighty boulders of rock, which loomed
up to the clouds, there was an opening in the dense groves, thickly
covered with vines and mosses like an arbor. From this point, the view
over the plains below commanded a space of hundreds of miles. In the
distance the red pagodas, white temple-gables and castle towers of Kioto
were visible.