of cooling passion! How quickly falls the silver column in the crystal
tube, at the first breath of the heart's chill even though the words on
the lip are warm! Kiyohime marked the ebbing tide of her lover's regard,
and then a terrible resolve of evil took possession of her soul. From
that time forth, she ceased to be a pure and innocent and gentle virgin.
Though still in maiden form and guise, she was at heart a fox, and as to
her nature she might as well have worn the bushy tail of the sly
deceiver. She resolved to win over her lover, by her importunities, and
failing in this, to destroy him by sorcery.
One night she sat up until two o'clock in the morning, and then, arrayed
only in a white robe, she went out to a secluded part of the mountain
where in a lonely shrine stood a hideous scowling image of Fudo, who
holds the sword of vengeance and sits clothed in fire. There she called
upon the god to change her lover's heart or else destroy him.
Thence, with her head shaking, and eyes glittering with anger like the
orbs of a serpent, she hastened to the shrine of Kampira, whose servants
are the long-nosed sprites, who have the power of magic and of teaching
sorcery. Standing in front of the portal she saw it hung with votive
tablets, locks of hair, teeth, various tokens of vows, pledges and marks
of sacrifice, which the devotees of the god had hung up. There, in the
cold night air she asked for the power of sorcery, that she might be able
at will to transform herself into the terrible _ja_,--the awful
dragon-serpent whose engine coils are able to crack bones, crush rocks,
melt iron or root up trees, and which are long enough to wind round a
mountain.
It would be too long to tell how this once pure and happy maiden, now
turned to an avenging demon went out nightly on the lonely mountains to
practice the arts of sorcery. The mountain-sprites were her teachers, and
she learned so diligently that the chief goblin at last told her she
would be able, without fail, to transform herself when she wished.
The dreadful moment was soon to come. The visits of the once lover-priest
gradually became fewer and fewer, and were no longer tender hours of
love, but were on his part formal interviews, while Kiyohime became more
importunate than ever. Tears and pleadings were alike useless, and
finally one night as he was taking leave, the bonze told the maid that he
had paid his last visit. Kiyohime then utterly forgetting all womanly
delicacy, became so urgent that the bonze tore himself away and fled
across the river. He had seen the terrible gleam in the maiden's eyes,
and now terribly frightened, hid himself under the great temple bell.
Forthwith Kiyohime, seeing the awful moment had come, pronounced the
spell of incantation taught her by the mountain spirit, and raised her
T-shaped wand. In a moment her fair head and lovely face, body, limbs and
feet lengthened out, disappeared, or became demon-like, and a
fire-darting, hissing-tongued serpent, with eyes like moons trailed over
the ground towards the temple, swam the river, and scenting out the track
of the fugitive, entered the belfry, cracking the supporting columns made
of whole tree-trunks into a mass of ruins, while the bell fell to the
earth with the cowering victim inside.
Then began the winding of the terrible coils round and round the metal,
as with her wand of sorcery in her hands, she mounted the bell. The
glistening scales, hard as iron, struck off sparks as the pressure
increased. Tighter and tighter they were drawn, till the heat of the
friction consumed the timbers and made the metal glow hot like fire.
[Illustration: THE SORCERESS MELTING THE BELL.]
Vain was the prayer of priest, or spell of rosary, as the bonzes
piteously besought great Buddha to destroy the demon. Hotter and hotter
grew the mass, until the ponderous metal melted down into a hissing pool
of scintillating molten bronze; and soon, man within and serpent without,
timber and tiles and ropes were nought but a few handfuls of white ashes.
THE FISHERMAN AND THE MOON-MAIDEN.
Pearly and lustrous white, like a cloud in the far-off blue sky, seemed
the floating figure of the moon-maiden, as she flew to earth. She was one
of the fifteen glistening virgins that wait attendant upon the moon in
her chambers in the sky. Looking down from her high home to the earth,
she became enraptured with the glorious scenery of Suruga's ocean shore,
and longed for a bath in the blue waters of the sea.
So this fairy maid sped to the earth one morning early, when the moon
having shone through the night was about to retire for the day. The sun
was rising bright and red over the eastern seas, flushing the mountains
and purpling the valleys. Out amid the sparkling waves the ships sailed
toward the sun, and the fishermen cast their nets.
It was in early spring, when the air was full of the fragrance of plum
blossoms, and the zephyrs blew so softly that scarce a bamboo leaf
quivered, or a wave lapsed with sound on the silvery shore.
The moon-maiden was so charmed with the scenery of earth, that she longed
to linger above it to gaze tranquilly. Floating slowly through the air,
she directed her course to the pine groves that fringe the strand near
Cape Miwo. Lying at the base of Fuji mountain, whose snowy crown glistens
above, fronting the ocean, whose blue plain undulates in liquid glory
till it meets the bending sky, the scenery of Miwo is renowned
everywhere under the whole heavens, but especially in the land which the
mikado's reign blesses with peace.
Full of happiness, the fairy maiden played sweet music from her flute,
until the air was full of it, and it sounded to the dweller on earth like
the sweet falling of rain drops on the thirsty ground. Her body shed
sweet fragrance through the air, and flowers fell from her robes as she
passed. Though none saw her form, all wondered.
Arriving over a charming spot on the sea shore, she descended to the
strand, and stood at the foot of a pine tree. She laid her musical
instrument on a rock near by, and taking off her wings and feathered suit
hung them carefully on the pine tree bough. Then she strolled off along
the shore to dip her shining feet in the curling waves.
Picking up some shells, she wondered with innocent joy at the rich
tints, which seemed more beautiful than any color in the moon-world. With
one, a large smooth scallop, she was particularly pleased; for inside one
valve was a yellow disc, and on its mate was a white one.
"How strange," said she. "Here is the sun, and there is the moon. I shall
call this the _Tsuki-hi-kai_--'sun and moon shell'," and she put them in
her girdle.
It chanced that near the edge of the pine grove, not far away, there
dwelt a lone fisherman, who, coming down to the shore, caught a whiff of
sweet perfume such as had never before delighted his nostrils. What could
it be? The spring zephyrs, blowing from the west, seemed laden with the
sweet odor.
Curiosity prompted him to seek the cause. He walked toward the pine tree,
and looking up, caught sight of the feathery suit of wings. Oh! how his
eyes sparkled. He danced for joy, and taking down the robe carried it to
his neighbors. All were delighted, and one old man said that the fairy
must herself be near by. He advised the man to seek until he found her.
So with feathered robe in hand the fisherman went out again to the
strand, and took his place near the pine tree. He had not waited long
before a lovely being, with rose-tinted white skin and of perfect form,
appeared.
"Please good sir, give me back my feathered robe," said she, in a sad
voice of liquid sweetness, though she seemed greatly frightened.
"No, I must keep it as a sacred treasure, a relic from a heavenly
visitor, and dedicate it in the shrine yonder as a memorial of an angel's
visit" said the fisherman.
"Oh, wicked man, what a wretched and impious thing to rob an inhabitant
of heaven of the robe by which she moves. How can I fly back to my home
again?"
"Give me your wings, oh ye wild geese that fly across the face of the
moon, and on tireless pinions seek the icy shores in spring time, and
soar unwearied homeward in autumn. Lend me your wings."
But the wild geese overhead only whirred and screamed, and bit their
sprays of pine which they carried in their mouth.
"Oh, ye circling gulls, lend me but for a day your downy wings. I am
prisoner here", cried the weeping fairy.
But the graceful gulls hovering for a moment swept on in widening circles
out to farther sea.
"Oh, breezes of the air which blow whither ye list! Oh, tide of ocean
which ebbs and flows at will! Ye may move all, but I am prisoner here,
devoid of motion. Oh, good sir have pity and give me back my wings,"
cried the moon-maiden, pressing her hands together in grief.
The fisher's heart was touched by the pathos of her voice and the
glittering of her tears.
"I'll give back your winged-robe if you'll dance and make music for me",
said he.
"Oh, yes, good sir, I will dance and make music, but first let me put on
my feather-robe for without it I have no power of motion."
"Oh, yes", said the suspicious mortal, "If I give you back your wings
you'll fly straight to heaven."
"What! can you not believe the word of a heavenly being, without
doubting? Trust me in good faith and you'll lose nothing."
Then with shamed face the fisherman handed to the moon-maiden her
feathered robe, which she donned and began to dance. She poured out such
sweet strains from her upright flute that with eye and ear full of
rapture, the fisherman imagined himself in heaven. Then she sang a sweet
song in which she described the delights of life in the moon and the
pleasure of celestial residence.
The fisherman was so overjoyed that he longed to detain the fairy. He
begged her to dwell with him on earth, but in vain. As he looked, he saw
her rising. A fresh breeze, rippling the face of the sea, now sprang up,
and wafted the pearly maiden over the pine-clad hills and past Fuji
mountain. All the time sweet music rained through the air until, as the
fisherman strained his eyes toward the fresh-fallen snow on Fuji's
crest, he could no longer distinguish the moon-maiden from the fleecy
clouds that filled the thin air.
Pondering long upon the marvelous apparition, the fisherman resolved to
mark the spot where the fairy first descended to earth. So he prevailed
upon the simple villagers to build a railing of stone around the now
sacred pine.
Daily they garlanded the old trunk with festoons of tasseled and twisted
rice-straw. Long after, when by the storms of centuries the old pine, in
spite of bandages and crutches, and tired of wrestling with the blast,
fell down like an old man, to rise no more, a grateful posterity cleared
the space and built the shrine of Miwo, which still dots with its sacred
enclosure the strand of Suruga on which the fairy danced.
THE JEWELS OF THE EBBING AND THE FLOWING TIDE.
Chiuai was the fourteenth mikado of the Land of the Gods (Japan). His
wife, the empress, was named Jingu, or Godlike Exploit. She was a wise
and discreet lady and assisted her husband to govern his dominions. When
a great rebellion broke out in the south island called Kiushiu, the
mikado marched his army against the rebels. The empress went with him and
lived in the camp. One night, as she lay asleep in her tent, she dreamed
that a heavenly being appeared to her and told her of a wonderful land
in the west, full of gold, silver, jewels, silks and precious stones. The
heavenly messenger told her if she would invade this country she would
succeed, and all its spoil would be hers, for herself and Japan.
"Conquer Corea!" said the radiant being, as she floated away on a purple
cloud.
In the morning the empress told her husband of her dream, and advised him
to set out to invade the rich land. But he paid no attention of her. When
she insisted, in order to satisfy her, he climbed up a high mountain, and
looking far away towards the setting sun, saw no land thither, not even
mountain peaks. So, believing that there was no country in that direction
he descended, and angrily refused to set out on the expedition. Shortly
after, in a battle with the rebels the mikado was shot dead with an
arrow.
The generals and captains of the host then declared their loyalty to the
empress as the sole ruler of Japan. She, now having the power, resolved
to carry out her daring plan of invading Corea. She invoked all the
_kami_ or gods together, from the mountains, rivers and plains to get
their advice and help. All came at her call. The kami of the mountains
gave her timber and iron for her ships; the kami of the fields presented
rice and grain for provisions; the kami of the grasses gave her hemp for
cordage; and the kami of the winds promised to open his bag and let out
his breezes to fill her sails toward Corea. All came except Isora, the
kami of the sea shore. Again she called for him and sat up waiting all
night with torches burning, invoking him to appear.
Now, Isora was a lazy fellow, always slovenly and ill-dressed, and when
at last he did come, instead of appearing in state in splendid robes, he
rose right out of the sea-bottom, covered with mud and slime, with shells
sticking all over him and sea-weed clinging to his hair. He gruffly asked
what the empress wanted.
"Go down to Riu Gu and beg his majesty Kai Riu O, the Dragon King of the
World Under the Sea, to give me the two jewels of the tides," said the
imperial lady.
Now among the treasures in the palace of the Dragon King of the World
Under the Sea were two jewels having wondrous power over the tides. They
were about as large as apples, but shaped like apricots, with three rings
cut near the top. They seemed to be of crystal, and glistened and shot
out dazzling rays like fire. Indeed, they appeared to seethe and glow
like the eye of a dragon, or the white-hot steel of the sword-forger.
One was called the Jewel of the Flood-Tide, and the other the Jewel of
the Ebb-Tide. Whoever owned them had the power to make the tides
instantly rise or fall at his word, to make the dry land appear, or the
sea overwhelm it, in the fillip of a finger.
Isora dived with a dreadful splash, down, down to Riu Gu, and straightway
presented himself before Kai Riu O. In the name of the empress, he begged
for the two tide-jewels.
The Dragon King agreed, and producing the flaming globes from his casket,
placed them on a huge shell and handed them to Isora, who brought the
jewels to Jingu, who placed them in her girdle.
The empress now prepared her fleet for Corean invasion. Three thousand
barges were built and launched, and two old kami with long streaming
gray hair and wrinkled faces, were made admirals. Their names were Suwa
Daimi[=o] Jin (Great Illustrious, Spirit of Suwa) and Sumiyoshi Daimi[=o]
Jin, the kami who lives under the old pine tree at Takasago, and presides
over nuptial ceremonies.
The fleet sailed in the tenth month. The hills of Hizen soon began to
sink below the horizon, but no sooner were they out of sight of land than
a great storm arose. The ships tossed about, and began to butt each other
like bulls, and it seemed as though the fleet would be driven back; when
lo! Kai Riu O sent shoals of huge sea-monsters and immense fishes that
bore up the ships and pushed their sterns forward with their great
snouts. The shachihoko, or dragon-fishes, taking the ship's cables in
their mouths towed them forward, until the storm ceased and the ocean
was calm. Then they plunged downwards into the sea and disappeared.
The mountains of Corea now rose in sight. Along the shore were gathered
the Corean army. Their triangular fringed banners, inscribed with
dragons, flapped in the breeze. As soon as their sentinels caught sight
of the Japanese fleet, the signal was given, and the Corean line of war
galleys moved gaily out to attack the Japanese.
The empress posted her archers in the bows of her ships and waited for
the enemy to approach. When they were within a few hundred sword-lengths,
she took from her girdle the Jewel of the Ebbing Tide and cast the
flashing gem into the sea. It blazed in the air for a moment, but no
sooner did it touch the water, than instantly the ocean receded from
under the Corean vessels, and left them stranded on dry land. The
Coreans, thinking it was a tidal wave, and that the Japanese ships were
likewise helpless in the undertow, leaped out of their galleys and rushed
over the sand, and on to the attack. With shouting and drawn swords their
aspect was terrible. When within range of the arrows, the Japanese bowmen
opened volleys of double-headed, or triple-pronged arrows on the Coreans,
and killed hundreds.
But on they rushed, until near the Japanese ships, when the empress
taking out the Flood-Tide Jewel, cast it in the sea. In a snap of the
finger, the ocean rolled up into a wave many tens of feet high and
engulfed the Corean army, drowning them almost to a man. Only a few were
left out of the ten thousand. The warriors in their iron armor sank dead
in the boiling waves, or were cast along the shore like logs. The
Japanese army landed safely, and easily conquered the country. The king
of Corea surrendered and gave his bales of silk, jewels, mirrors, books,
pictures, robes, tiger skins, and treasures of gold and silver to the
empress. The booty was loaded on eighty ships, and the Japanese army
returned in triumph to their native country.
KAI RIU O, THE DRAGON KING OF THE WORLD UNDER THE SEA.
Soon after her arrival at home, the empress Jingu gave birth to a son,
whom she named Ojin. He was one of the fairest children ever born of an
imperial mother, and was very wise and wonderful even when an infant. He
was a great favorite of Takenouchi, the prime minister of the empress. As
he grew up, he was full of the _Yamato Damashii_, or the spirit of
unconquerable Japan.
This Takenouchi was a very venerable old man, who was said to be three
hundred and sixty years old. He had been the counsellor of five mikados.
He was very tall, and as straight as an arrow, when other old men were
bent like a bow. He served as a general in war and a civil officer in
peace. For this reason he always kept on a suit of armor under his long
satin and damask court robes. He wore the bear-skin shoes and the
tiger-skin scabbard which were the general's badge of rank, and also the
high cap and long fringed strap hanging from the belt, which marked the
court noble. He had moustaches, and a long beard fell over his breast
like a foaming waterfall, as white as the snows on the branches of the
pine trees of Ibuki mountain.
Now the empress, as well as Takenouchi, wished the imperial infant Ojin
to live long, be wise and powerful, become a mighty warrior, be
invulnerable in battle, and to have control over the tides and the ocean
as his mother once had. To do this it was necessary to get back the Tide
Jewels.
So Takenouchi took the infant Ojin on his shoulders, mounted the imperial
war-barge, whose sails were of gold-embroidered silk, and bade his rowers
put out to sea. Then standing upright on the deck, he called on Kai Riu O
to come up out of the deep and give back the Tide Jewels to Ojin.
At first there was no sign on the waves that Kai Riu O heard. The green
sea lay glassy in the sunlight, and the waves laughed and curled above
the sides of the boat. Still Takenouchi listened intently and waited
reverently. He was not long in suspense. Looking down far under the
sparkling waves, he saw the head and fiery eyes of a dragon mounting
upward. Instinctively he clutched his robe with his right hand, and held
Ojin tightly on his shoulder, for this time not Isora, but the terrible
Kai Riu O himself was coming.
What a great honor! The sea-king's servant, Isora, had appeared to a
woman, the empress Jingu, but to her son, the Dragon King of the World
Under the Sea deigned to come in person.
The waters opened; the waves rolled up, curled, rolled into wreaths and
hooks and drops of foam, which flecked the dark green curves with silvery
bells. First appeared a living dragon with fire-darting eyes, long
flickering moustaches, glittering scales of green all ruffled, with
terrible spines erect, and the joints of the fore-paws curling out jets
of red fire. This living creature was the helmet of the Sea King. Next
appeared the face of awful majesty and stern mien, as if with reluctant
condescension, and then the jewel robes of the monarch. Next rose into
view a huge haliotis shell, in which, on a bed of rare gems from the deep
sea floor, glistened, blazed and flashed the two Jewels of the Tides.
Then the Dragon-King spoke, saying:
"Quick, take this casket, I deign not to remain long in this upper world
of mortals. With these I endow the imperial prince of the Heavenly line
of the mikados of the Divine country. He shall be invulnerable in battle.
He shall have long life. To him I give power over sea and land. Of this,
let these Tide-Jewels be the token."
Hardly were these words uttered when the Dragon-King disappeared with a
tremendous splash. Takenouchi standing erect but breathless amid the
crowd of rowers who, crouching at the boat's bottom had not dared so much
as to lift up their noses, waited a moment, and then gave the command to
turn the prow to the shore.
Ojin grew up and became a great warrior, invincible in battle and
powerful in peace. He lived to be one hundred and eleven years old, and
was next to the last of the long lived mikados of Everlasting Great
Japan.
* * * * *
To this day Japanese soldiers honor him as the patron of war, and pray to
him as the ruler of battle.
When the Buddhist priests came to Japan they changed his name to Hachiman
Dai Bosatsu, or the "Great Buddha of the Eight Banners." On many a hill
and in many a village of Japan may still be seen a shrine to his honor.
Often when a soldier comes back from war, he will hang up a tablet or
picture-frame, on which is carved a painting or picture of the two-edged
short sword like that which Ojin carried. Many of the old soldiers who
fought in armor wore a little silver sword of Ojin set as a frontlet to
their helmets, for a crest of honor. On gilded or lacquered Japanese
cabinets and shrines, and printed on their curious old, and new greenback
paper money, are seen the blazing Jewels of the Tides. On their gold and
silver coins the coiled dragon clutches in his claws the Jewels of the
Ebbing and the Flowing Tide. One of the iron-clad war ships of the
imperial Japanese navy, on which floats proudly the red sun-banner of the
Empire of the Rising Sun, is named K[=o]g[=o] (Empress) after the Amazon
empress who in the third century carried the arms of the Island Empire
into the main land of Asia, and won victory by her mastery over the
ebbing and the flowing tides.
[Illustration: THE DRAGON KING'S GIFT OF THE TIDE JEWELS.]
THE CREATION OF HEAVEN AND EARTH.
Of old the Heavens and the Earth were not separated. Land and water,
solids and gases, fire and stone, light and darkness were mixed together.
All was liquid and turbid chaos.
Then the mighty mass began to move from within. The lighter particles of
gas and air began to rise, forming the sky and heavens. The heavy parts
sank and cohered, becoming the earth. The water formed the four seas.
Then there appeared something like a white cloud floating between heaven
and earth. Out of this came forth three beings--The Being of the Middle
of Heaven, The High August Being, and The Majestic Being. These three
"hid their bodies."
Out of the warm mould of the earth something like a rush sprouted up. It
was clear and bright like crystal. From this rush-sprout came forth a
being whose title is "The Delightful and Honorable Rush-Sprout." Next
appeared another being out of the buds of the rush-sprout whose name is
"The Honorable Heaven-born." These five beings are called "the heavenly
gods."
Next came into existence four pairs of beings viz.: (1) The Being Sprung
from the First Mud, and The Being of the Sand and Mud; (2) The Being with
Hands and Feet Growing, and the Being Having Breath; (3) The Male Being,
and the Female Being of the Great Place (the earth); (4) The Being of
Complete Perfection, and the Being who cried out "Strange and Awful" to
her mate.
Thus the last pair that came into existence were the first man and woman
called Izanagi and Izanami.
It is said that the other pairs of beings before Izanagi and Izanami were
only their imperfect forms or the processes through which they passed
before arriving at perfection.