Japanese Fairy Tales
he succeeded after some time in conquering the Eastern Barbarians, the
Ainu.
He ascribed his safe landing wholly to the faithfulness of his wife,
who had so willingly and lovingly sacrificed herself in the hour of his
utmost peril. His heart was softened at the remembrance of her, and he
never allowed her to pass from his thoughts even for a moment. Too late
had he learned to esteem the goodness of her heart and the greatness of
her love for him.
As he was returning on his homeward way he came to the high pass of the
Usui Toge, and here he stood and gazed at the wonderful prospect
beneath him. The country, from this great elevation, all lay open to
his sight, a vast panorama of mountain and plain and forest, with
rivers winding like silver ribbons through the land; then far off he
saw the distant sea, which shimmered like a luminous mist in the great
distance, where Ototachibana had given her life for him, and as he
turned towards it he stretched out his arms, and thinking of her love
which he had scorned and his faithlessness to her, his heart burst out
into a sorrowful and bitter cry:
“Azuma, Azuma, Ya!” (Oh! my wife, my wife!) And to this day there is a
district in Tokio called Azuma, which commemorates the words of Prince
Yamato Take, and the place where his faithful wife leapt into the sea
to save him is still pointed out. So, though in life the Princess
Ototachibana was unhappy, history keeps her memory green, and the story
of her unselfishness and heroic death will never pass away.
Yamato Take had now fulfilled all his father’s orders, he had subdued
all rebels, and rid the land of all robbers and enemies to the peace,
and his renown was great, for in the whole land there was no one who
could stand up against him, he was so strong in battle and wise in
council.
He was about to return straight for home by the way he had come, when
the thought struck him that he would find it more interesting to take
another route, so he passed through the province of Owari and came to
the province of Omi.
When the Prince reached Omi he found the people in a state of great
excitement and fear. In many houses as he passed along he saw the signs
of mourning and heard loud lamentations. On inquiring the cause of this
he was told that a terrible monster had appeared in the mountains, who
daily came down from thence and made raids on the villages, devouring
whoever he could seize. Many homes had been made desolate and the men
were afraid to go out to their daily work in the fields, or the women
to go to the rivers to wash their rice.
When Yamato Take heard this his wrath was kindled, and he said
fiercely:
“From the western end of Kiushiu to the eastern corner of Yezo I have
subdued all the King’s enemies—there is no one who dares to break the
laws or to rebel against the King. It is indeed a matter for wonder
that here in this place, so near the capital, a wicked monster has
dared to take up his abode and be the terror of the King’s subjects.
Not long shall it find pleasure in devouring innocent folk. I will
start out and kill it at once.”
With these words he set out for the Ibuki Mountain, where the monster
was said to live. He climbed up a good distance, when all of a sudden,
at a winding in the path, a monster serpent appeared before him and
stopped the way.
“This must be the monster,” said the Prince; “I do not need my sword
for a serpent. I can kill him with my hands.”
He thereupon sprang upon the serpent and tried to strangle it to death
with his bare arms. It was not long before his prodigious strength
gained the mastery and the serpent lay dead at his feet. Now a sudden
darkness came over the mountain and rain began to fall, so that for the
gloom and the rain the Prince could hardly see which way to take. In a
short time, however, while he was groping his way down the pass, the
weather cleared, and our brave hero was able to make his way quickly
down the mountain.
When he got back he began to feel ill and to have burning pains in his
feet, so he knew that the serpent had poisoned him. So great was his
suffering that he could hardly move, much less walk, so he had himself
carried to a place in the mountains famous for its hot mineral springs,
which rose bubbling out of the earth, and almost boiling from the
volcanic fires beneath.
Yamato Take bathed daily in these waters, and gradually he felt his
strength come again, and the pains left him, till at last one day he
found with great joy that he was quite recovered. He now hastened to
the temples of Ise, where you will remember that he prayed before
undertaking this long expedition. His aunt, priestess of the shrine,
who had blessed him on his setting out, now came to welcome him back.
He told her of the many dangers he had encountered and of how
marvelously his life had been preserved through all—and she praised his
courage and his warrior’s prowess, and then putting on her most
magnificent robes she returned thanks to their ancestress the Sun
Goddess Amaterasu, to whose protection they both ascribed the Prince’s
wonderful preservation.
Here ends the story of Prince Yamato Take of Japan.
MOMOTARO, OR THE STORY OF THE SON OF A PEACH
Long, long ago there lived, an old man and an old woman; they were
peasants, and had to work hard to earn their daily rice. The old man
used to go and cut grass for the farmers around, and while he was gone
the old woman, his wife, did the work of the house and worked in their
own little rice field.
One day the old man went to the hills as usual to cut grass and the old
woman took some clothes to the river to wash.
It was nearly summer, and the country was very beautiful to see in its
fresh greenness as the two old people went on their way to work. The
grass on the banks of the river looked like emerald velvet, and the
pussy willows along the edge of the water were shaking out their soft
tassels.
The breezes blew and ruffled the smooth surface of the water into
wavelets, and passing on touched the cheeks of the old couple who, for
some reason they could not explain, felt very happy that morning.
The old woman at last found a nice spot by the river bank and put her
basket down. Then she set to work to wash the clothes; she took them
one by one out of the basket and washed them in the river and rubbed
them on the stones. The water was as clear as crystal, and she could
see the tiny fish swimming to and fro, and the pebbles at the bottom.
As she was busy washing her clothes a great peach came bumping down the
stream. The old woman looked up from her work and saw this large peach.
She was sixty years of age, yet in all her life she had never seen such
a big peach as this.
“How delicious that peach must be!” she said to herself. “I must
certainly get it and take it home to my old man.”
She stretched out her arm to try and get it, but it was quite out of
her reach. She looked about for a stick, but there was not one to be
seen, and if she went to look for one she would lose the peach.
Stopping a moment to think what she would do, she remembered an old
charm-verse. Now she began to clap her hands to keep time to the
rolling of the peach down stream, and while she clapped she sang this
song:
“Distant water is bitter,
The near water is sweet;
Pass by the distant water
And come into the sweet.”
Strange to say, as soon as she began to repeat this little song the
peach began to come nearer and nearer the bank where the old woman was
standing, till at last it stopped just in front of her so that she was
able to take it up in her hands. The old woman was delighted. She could
not go on with her work, so happy and excited was she, so she put all
the clothes back in her bamboo basket, and with the basket on her back
and the peach in her hand she hurried homewards.
It seemed a very long time to her to wait till her husband returned.
The old man at last came back as the sun was setting, with a big bundle
of grass on his back—so big that he was almost hidden and she could
hardly see him. He seemed very tired and used the scythe for a walking
stick, leaning on it as he walked along.
As soon as the old woman saw him she called out:
“O Fii San! (old man) I have been waiting for you to come home for such
a long time to-day!”
“What is the matter? Why are you so impatient?” asked the old man,
wondering at her unusual eagerness. “Has anything happened while I have
been away?”
“Oh, no!” answered the old woman, “nothing has happened, only I have
found a nice present for you!”
“That is good,” said the old man. He then washed his feet in a basin of
water and stepped up to the veranda.
The old woman now ran into the little room and brought out from the
cupboard the big peach. It felt even heavier than before. She held it
up to him, saying:
“Just look at this! Did you ever see such a large peach in all your
life?”
When the old man looked at the peach he was greatly astonished and
said:
“This is indeed the largest peach I have ever seen! Wherever did you
buy it?”
“I did not buy it,” answered the old woman. “I found it in the river
where I was washing.” And she told him the whole story.
“I am very glad that you have found it. Let us eat it now, for I am
hungry,” said the O Fii San.
He brought out the kitchen knife, and, placing the peach on a board,
was about to cut it when, wonderful to tell, the peach split in two of
itself and a clear voice said:
“Wait a bit, old man!” and out stepped a beautiful little child.
The old man and his wife were both so astonished at what they saw that
they fell to the ground. The child spoke again:
“Don’t be afraid. I am no demon or fairy. I will tell you the truth.
Heaven has had compassion on you. Every day and every night you have
lamented that you had no child. Your cry has been heard and I am sent
to be the son of your old age!”
On hearing this the old man and his wife were very happy. They had
cried night and day for sorrow at having no child to help them in their
lonely old age, and now that their prayer was answered they were so
lost with joy that they did not know where to put their hands or their
feet. First the old man took the child up in his arms, and then the old
woman did the same; and they named him MOMOTARO, OR SON OF A PEACH,
because he had come out of a peach.
The years passed quickly by and the child grew to be fifteen years of
age. He was taller and far stronger than any other boys of his own age,
he had a handsome face and a heart full of courage, and he was very
wise for his years. The old couple’s pleasure was very great when they
looked at him, for he was just what they thought a hero ought to be
like.
One day Momotaro came to his foster-father and said solemnly:
“Father, by a strange chance we have become father and son. Your
goodness to me has been higher than the mountain grasses which it was
your daily work to cut, and deeper than the river where my mother
washes the clothes. I do not know how to thank you enough.”
“Why,” answered the old man, “it is a matter of course that a father
should bring up his son. When you are older it will be your turn to
take care of us, so after all there will be no profit or loss between
us—all will be equal. Indeed, I am rather surprised that you should
thank me in this way!” and the old man looked bothered.
“I hope you will be patient with me,” said Momotaro; “but before I
begin to pay back your goodness to me I have a request to make which I
hope you will grant me above everything else.”
“I will let you do whatever you wish, for you are quite different to
all other boys!”
“Then let me go away at once!”
“What do you say? Do you wish to leave your old father and mother and
go away from your old home?”