Part 7 (1/2)

b.u.t.terflies and dragon flies fluttered over the golden colza flowers in the fields.

The rice birds chirped merrily. Everything seemed to say, ”How good it is to live in days like these.”

A beautiful princess, O Haru San, sat on the bank of a stream gaily pulling the lilies.

All the maidens of her court were with her.

Along the river bank came a troop of noisy, laughing boys, carrying a young cub fox. They were trying to decide who should have its skin and who its liver.

At a safe distance from them, in a bamboo thicket, father fox and mother fox sat looking sadly after their little cub.

The princess' heart was filled with pity, and she said:

”Boys, pray loose the little fox. See his parents weeping in the rocks.”

The boys shook their heads.

”We shall sell the fox's skin,” they said. ”The liver, too, if well powdered, will be used to cure fevers in the fall.”

”Listen,” cried O Haru San, ”It is springtime, and everything rejoices.

How can you kill such a small soft beast?

”See, here is twice your price; take it all,” and she drew copper money and silver money from her girdle.

The boys placed the little frightened animal in her lap and ran away, pleased to be so rich.

The cub felt the touch of her soft hand, and trembled no longer. She loosened carefully the knot and noose and string.

She stroked the red fur smooth again, and bound up the little bleeding leg. She offered it rice and fish to eat, but the black eyes plainly said, ”This is very nice, but I hear my parents grieving near yonder beanstraw stack. I long to go and comfort them.”

She set the little fox gently on the ground, and, forgetting its wounded leg, it leaped through the bushes at one happy bound.

The two old foxes gravely looked it over neck and breast.

They licked it from its bushy tail to its smooth, brown crown. Then, sitting up on their haunches, they gave two sharp barks of grat.i.tude.

That was their way of saying, ”We send you thanks, sweet maid.”

As she walked home by the river side, all the world seemed more beautiful to O Haru San.

The summer time came and the blossoms upon the cherry trees became rich, ripe fruit. But there was no joy in the emperor's house.

His daughter, the gentle O Haru San, was ill. She grew paler and weaker each day. Physicians came from far and near, and shook their wise heads gravely.

When the emperor's magician saw her, he said, ”No one can heal such sickness. A charm falls upon her every night which steals away her strength. He alone can break the spell, who, with sleepless eyes, can watch beside her bedside until sunrise.”

Gray haired nurses sat by her until morning, but a deep sleep fell upon them at midnight.

Next fourscore maidens of the court, who loved her well, kept bright lights burning all the night, yet they, too, fell asleep.