Part 16 (1/2)

Both men fenced their best. There was great excitement. Gundayu had never done so well before; but Harada was too good. He won the match, receiving the gold image of Kwannon from the hands of the Daimio amid loud cheering.

Gundayu left the scene of the encounter, boiling over with jealousy and vowing vengeance. Four of his most faithful companions left with him, and said they would help him to waylay and a.s.sault Harada that very evening. Having arranged this cowardly plan, they proceeded to hide on the road which Harada must traverse on his return home.

For three hours they lay there with evil intentions. At last in the moonlight they saw Harada come staggering along, for, as was natural on such an occasion, he had, with friends, been indulging in sakA freely.

Gundayu and his four companions sprang out at him, Gundayu shouting, 'Now you will have to fight me to the death.'

Harada tried to draw his sword, but was slow, his head whirling. Gundayu did not wait, but cut him to the ground, killing him. The five villains then hunted through his clothes, found the golden image of Kwannon, and ran off, never again to appear on the domains of the Lord of Tsugaru.

When the body of Harada was found there was great grief.

Yonosuke, Harada's son, a boy of sixteen, vowed to avenge his father's death, and obtained from the Daimio special permission to kill Gundayu as and when he chose; the disappearance of Gundayu was sufficient evidence that he had been the murderer.

Yonosuke set out that day on his hunt for Gundayu. He wandered about the country for five long years without getting the slightest clue; but at the end of that time, by the guidance of Buddha, he located his enemy at Gifu, where he was acting as fencing-master to the feudal lord of that place.

Yonosuke found that it would be difficult to get at Gundayu in an ordinary way, for he hardly ever left the castle. He decided, therefore, to change his name to that of Ippai, and to apply for a place in Gundayu's house as a chugen (a samurai's private attendant).

In this Ippai (as we shall now call him) was particularly lucky, for, as Gundayu was in want of such an attendant, he got the place.

On the 24th of June a great celebration was held at the house of Gundayu, it being the fifth anniversary of his service to the clan. He put his stolen golden image of Kwannon on the tokonoma (the part of a j.a.panese room, raised five inches above the floor, where pictures and flowers are placed), and a dinner, with sakA, was set before it. A dinner was given by Gundayu to his friends, all of whom drank so deeply that they fell asleep.

Next day the image of Kwannon had disappeared. It was not to be found. A few days later Ippai became ill, and, owing to poverty, was unable to buy proper medicine; he went from bad to worse. His fellow-servants were kind to him; but they could do nothing that improved his condition. Ippai did not seem to care; he lay in his bed and seemed almost pleased to be getting weaker and weaker. All he asked was that a branch of his favourite omoto (rhodea j.a.ponica) should be kept in a vase before his bed, so that he might see it continually; and this simple request was naturally complied with.

In the autumn Ippai pa.s.sed quietly away and was buried. After the funeral, when the servants were cleaning out the room in which he had died, it was noticed with astonishment that a small white snake was curled round the vase containing the omoto. They tried to remove it; but it coiled itself tighter. At last they threw the vase into the pond, not caring to have such a thing about them.

To their astonishment, the water had no effect on the snake, which continued to cling to the vase. Feeling that there was something uncanny about the snake, they wanted to get it farther away. So they cast a net, brought the vase and snake to sh.o.r.e again, and threw them into a stream. Even that made but little difference, the snake slightly changing its position so as to keep the branch of omoto from falling out of the vase.

By this time there was consternation among the servants, and the news spread to the different houses within the castle gates. Some samurai came down to the stream to see, and found the white snake still firmly coiled about the vase and branch. One of the samurai drew his sword and made a slash at the snake, which let go and escaped; but the vase was broken, and, to the alarm of all, the image of the Kwannon fell out into the stream, together with a stamped permit from the Feudal Lord of Tsugaru to kill a certain man, whose name was left blank.

The samurai who had broken the vase and found the lost treasure seemed particularly pleased, and hastened to tell Gundayu the good news; but, instead of being pleased, that person showed signs of fear. He became deadly pale when he heard the story of the death of Ippai and of the extraordinary appearance of the mysterious white snake. He trembled. He realised that Ippai was no less a person than Yonosuke, son of Harada, whose appearance after the murder he had always feared.

True to the spirit of a samurai, however, Gundayu 'pulled himself together,' and professed great pleasure to the person who had brought the image of Kwannon. Moreover, to celebrate the occasion, he gave a great feast that evening. Curiously enough, the samurai who had broken the vase and recovered the image became suddenly ill, and was unable to attend.

After he had dismissed his guests, at about 10 P.M., Gundayu retired to his bed. In the middle of the night he awoke with what he took to be a terrible nightmare. There was a choking sensation at his throat; he squirmed and twisted; gurgling noises proceeded from his mouth to such an extent that he aroused his wife, who in terror struck a light. She saw a white snake coiled tightly round her husband's throat; his face was purple, and his eyeb.a.l.l.s stood out two inches from his face.

She called for help; but it was too late. As the young samurai came rus.h.i.+ng in, their fencing-master was black in the face and dead.

Next day there was a close investigation. Messengers were despatched to the Lord of Tsugaru to inquire as to the history of the murdered Harada Kurando, father of Yonosuke, or 'Ippai,' and as to that of Gundayu, who had been in his employ for five years. Having ascertained the truth, the Lord of Gifu, moved by the zeal of Yonosuke in discharging his filial duties, returned the golden image of Kwannon to the bereaved family of Harada; and in commemoration he wors.h.i.+pped the dead snake at a shrine erected at the foot of Kodayama Mountain. The spirit is still known as Hakuja no Myojin, The White Serpent G.o.d.

60. What Saotome and Tamajo Found.

LV A FESTIVAL OF THE AWABI FISH.

MANAZURU-MINATO is situated on a small promontory of the same name. It faces the Sagama Bay, famed for beauty; at its back are mountains rising gradually and overtopped in the distance by the majestic Fuji; to the north on clear days the sandy sh.o.r.es of Kozu and Oiso, twenty-five miles off, seem to be almost within arm's reach. Some people have compared the beauties of Manazuru-zaki from cape to river with the place in China called 'Sekiheki' by the celebrated poet of that country, Sotoba, who wrote 'Sekiheki no Fu,' the Ode to Sekiheki.

Many years ago Minamoto-no-Yoritomo, after his defeat at the battle of Is.h.i.+bas.h.i.+yama, fled to Manazuru-minato, and stayed there for a few days while waiting for favourable weather to cross to the opposite side, the province of Awa. One can still see, I am told, the cave in which he hid, which retains its old name, 's.h.i.+toto-iwa.' The scenery on the coast is magnificent. The rocks rise sheer out of the sea and enclose a perfect little bay on the inside of Manazuru Zaki (Cape). There the fishermen erected a quiet little shrine, 'Kibune Jinja,' where they wors.h.i.+pped the G.o.ddess who guards the fis.h.i.+ng of their coast. They had but little to complain of in the Bay of Manazuru. The waters were deep, and always well-stocked with fish such as tai; in due season came the sawara (giant mackerel) and all the smaller, migratory fishes, including the sardine and the anchovy. The fishermen had naught to complain of until about forty years ago, when a strange thing happened.

On the 24th of June, a person from some inland place arrived for a few days' sea-bathing. He was no swimmer, and he was drowned the first day. His body was never recovered, though the fishermen did all they could to find it. From this event onwards for a full two years the abundance of fish in the bay grew less and less, until it became difficult to catch enough to eat. The situation was serious in the extreme.

Some of the elder fishermen attributed the change to the stranger who had been drowned.

'It is his unrecovered body,' they said, 'that has made our sacred waters change. The uncleanness has offended Gu gun O Hime, our G.o.ddess. It will never do to go on as we are. We must hold a special festival at the temple of Kibune Jinja.'

Accordingly, the head priest, Iwata, was approached. He was pleased with the idea, and a certain day was fixed upon.

On the appointed evening hundreds of fishermen gathered together with torches in one hand and s.h.i.+rayu or GoheiA 1 papers fastened on a bamboo in the other.

[paragraph continues] They formed into procession and advanced towards the shrine from various directions, beating gongs. At the temple the priest read from the sacred books, and prayed to the G.o.ddess that had watched over them and their fisheries not to desert them because their waters had been polluted by a dead body. They would search for it by every means in their power and cleanse the bay.

Suddenly, while the priest was praying, a light, the brilliance of which nearly blinded the fishermen, flashed out of the water. The priest stopped for a moment; a rumbling noise was heard at the bottom of the sea; and then there arose to the surface a G.o.ddess of surpa.s.sing beauty (probably Kwannon Gioran). She looked at the ceremony which was being held on sh.o.r.e for a full hour, and then disappeared with another flash, leaving the sound of roaring waves.

The priest and the elder fishermen considered matters, and came to the conclusion that what they had seen was indeed their G.o.ddess, and that she had been pleased at their ceremony. Also, they thought the dead body must still be at the bottom of the bay, directly under the spot whence the flashes of light and the G.o.ddess herself had appeared. It was arranged that two young virgins who could dive should be sent down at the spot to see, and two were accordingly chosen--Saotome and Tamajo. Wrapped in white skirts, these maidens were taken in a boat to where the flashes and the G.o.ddess had appeared. The girls dived, reached the bottom, and searched for the body of the man drowned two years before. Instead of finding it, they saw only a small but dazzling light. Curiosity led them to the spot, and there they found hundreds upon hundreds of awabi (ear-sh.e.l.ls) fastened upon a rock six feet in height and twenty-five or thirty in length. Whenever the fish moved they were obliged to raise their sh.e.l.ls, and it was the glitter of the pearls inside that had attracted the damsels. This rock must have been the tomb of the drowned, or else the home of the G.o.ddess.

Saotome and Tamajo returned to the surface, each having taken from the rock a large sh.e.l.l to show the priest. As they came to the sh.o.r.e cheers were given in their honour, and the priest and the fishermen crowded round them.

On learning about the awabi sh.e.l.ls, which they had never before heard of as being in the bay, they came to the conclusion that it was not uncleanness that kept the fish away. The lights thrown from the brilliant nacreous sh.e.l.ls, and pearls inside them, must be the cause. Many times have we heard of the awabi flying. They must have flown here at some time within two years. The fishermen resolved to remove them. It was evident that the G.o.ddess had appeared in the light so as to show what it was that kept the fish away.

No time was lost. Many hundreds of men and women went down and cleared the place; and the fish began to. return to Manazuru-minato.

At the suggestion of the priest, Iwata, there is held on every 24th of June a matsuri (festival). The fishermen light torches and go to the shrine for wors.h.i.+p all the night through. This is called the 'Awabi Festival' of Kibune.

NOTE.--The story was told to me by a man who knows nothing of sh.e.l.l-fish. He told the story as of the osari, a kind of c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.l dug out of the sand at low tide. It is impossible that this story could have referred to other sh.e.l.l-fish than haliotis (the ear-sh.e.l.l), or the awabi, or the regular pearl oyster.

Diving women have seen the 'flight' of haliotis and described it to me. If one feels disposed to leave a rock, they all feel the same impulse and go. Thus it is that large old haliotis sometimes appear on a rock some fifteen fathoms deep when not one was there the day before; and they go with equal quickness. For a thousand years or more the same rocks have been haunted. And divers keep their finds at the bottom of the sea a great secret--at least, so I observe at Tos.h.i.+.

Footnotes.

342:1 Gohei papers are a s.h.i.+nto emblem, representing gifts of cloth to the deity, usually the G.o.d Kami. Some say Gohei represent, in their curious cutting, the Kami beating dora, a gong used in wors.h.i.+p.

61. The Spirit of the Willow Tree Appears to Gobei.

LVI THE SPIRIT OF A WILLOW TREE SAVES FAMILY HONOUR.

LONG ago there lived in Yamada village, Saras.h.i.+na Gun, s.h.i.+nano Province, one of the richest men in the northern part of j.a.pan. For many generations the family had been rich, and at last the fortune descended in the eighty-third generation to Gobei Yuasa. The family had no t.i.tle; but the people treated them almost with the respect due to a princely house. Even the boys in the street, who are not given to bestowing either compliments or t.i.tles of respect, bowed ceremoniously when they met Gobei Yuasa. Gobei was the soul of good-nature, sympathetic to all in trouble.

The riches which Gobei had inherited were mainly money and land, about which he worried himself very little; it would have been difficult to find a man who knew less and cared less about his affairs than Gobei. He spent his money freely, and when he came to think of accounts his easy nature let them all slide. His great pleasures were painting kakemono pictures, talking to his friends, and eating good things. He ordered his steward not to worry him with unsatisfactory accounts of crops or any other disagreeable subjects. 'The destiny of man and his fate is arranged in Heaven,' said he. Gobei was quite celebrated as a painter, and could have made a considerable amount of money by selling his kakemonos; but no--that would not be doing credit to his ancestors and his name.

One day, while things were going from bad to worse, and Gobei was seated in his room painting, a friend came to gossip. He told Gobei that the village people were beginning to talk seriously about a spirit that had been seen by no fewer than three of them. At first they had laughed at the man who saw the ghost; the second man who saw it they were inclined not to take quite seriously; but now it had been seen by one of the village elders, and so there could be no doubt about it.

'Where do they see it?' asked Gobei.