Japanese Fairy Tales
the dog and the monkey, will kill you all by biting and tearing you to
death!”
The horned demons looking up and only seeing a pheasant, laughed and
said:
“A wild pheasant, indeed! It is ridiculous to hear such words from a
mean thing like you. Wait till you get a blow from one of our iron
bars!”
Very angry, indeed, were the devils. They shook their horns and their
shocks of red hair fiercely, and rushed to put on tiger skin trousers
to make themselves look more terrible. They then brought out great iron
bars and ran to where the pheasant perched over their heads, and tried
to knock him down. The pheasant flew to one side to escape the blow,
and then attacked the head of first one and then another demon. He flew
round and round them, beating the air with his wings so fiercely and
ceaselessly, that the devils began to wonder whether they had to fight
one or many more birds.
In the meantime, Momotaro had brought his ship to land. As they had
approached, he saw that the shore was like a precipice, and that the
large castle was surrounded by high walls and large iron gates and was
strongly fortified.
Momotaro landed, and with the hope of finding some way of entrance,
walked up the path towards the top, followed by the monkey and the dog.
They soon came upon two beautiful damsels washing clothes in a stream.
Momotaro saw that the clothes were blood-stained, and that as the two
maidens washed, the tears were falling fast down their cheeks. He
stopped and spoke to them:
“Who are you, and why do you weep?”
“We are captives of the Demon King. We were carried away from our homes
to this island, and though we are the daughters of Daimios (Lords), we
are obliged to be his servants, and one day he will kill us”—and the
maidens held up the blood-stained clothes—“and eat us, and there is no
one to help us!”
And their tears burst out afresh at this horrible thought.
“I will rescue you,” said Momotaro. “Do not weep any more, only show me
how I may get into the castle.”
Then the two ladies led the way and showed Momotaro a little back door
in the lowest part of the castle wall—so small that Momotaro could
hardly crawl in.
The pheasant, who was all this time fighting hard, saw Momotaro and his
little band rush in at the back.
Momotaro’s onslaught was so furious that the devils could not stand
against him. At first their foe had been a single bird, the pheasant,
but now that Momotaro and the dog and the monkey had arrived they were
bewildered, for the four enemies fought like a hundred, so strong were
they. Some of the devils fell off the parapet of the castle and were
dashed to pieces on the rocks beneath; others fell into the sea and
were drowned; many were beaten to death by the three animals.
The chief of the devils at last was the only one left. He made up his
mind to surrender, for he knew that his enemy was stronger than mortal
man.
He came up humbly to Momotaro and threw down his iron bar, and kneeling
down at the victor’s feet he broke off the horns on his head in token
of submission, for they were the sign of his strength and power.
“I am afraid of you,” he said meekly. “I cannot stand against you. I
will give you all the treasure hidden in this castle if you will spare
my life!”
Momotaro laughed.
“It is not like you, big devil, to beg for mercy, is it? I cannot spare
your wicked life, however much you beg, for you have killed and
tortured many people and robbed our country for many years.”
Then Momotaro tied the devil chief up and gave him into the monkey’s
charge. Having done this, he went into all the rooms of the castle and
set the prisoners free and gathered together all the treasure he found.
The dog and the pheasant carried home the plunder, and thus Momotaro
returned triumphantly to his home, taking with him the devil chief as a
captive.
The two poor damsels, daughters of Daimios, and others whom the wicked
demon had carried off to be his slaves, were taken safely to their own
homes and delivered to their parents.
The whole country made a hero of Momotaro on his triumphant return, and
rejoiced that the country was now freed from the robber devils who had
been a terror of the land for a long time.
The old couple’s joy was greater than ever, and the treasure Momotaro
had brought home with him enabled them to live in peace and plenty to
the end of their days.
THE OGRE OF RASHOMON
Long, long ago in Kyoto, the people of the city were terrified by
accounts of a dreadful ogre, who, it was said, haunted the Gate of
Rashomon at twilight and seized whoever passed by. The missing victims
were never seen again, so it was whispered that the ogre was a horrible
cannibal, who not only killed the unhappy victims but ate them also.
Now everybody in the town and neighborhood was in great fear, and no
one durst venture out after sunset near the Gate of Rashomon.
Now at this time there lived in Kyoto a general named Raiko, who had
made himself famous for his brave deeds. Some time before this he made
the country ring with his name, for he had attacked Oeyama, where a
band of ogres lived with their chief, who instead of wine drank the
blood of human beings. He had routed them all and cut off the head of
the chief monster.
This brave warrior was always followed by a band of faithful knights.
In this band there were five knights of great valor. One evening as the
five knights sat at a feast quaffing SAKE in their rice bowls and
eating all kinds of fish, raw, and stewed, and broiled, and toasting
each other’s healths and exploits, the first knight, Hojo, said to the
others:
“Have you all heard the rumor that every evening after sunset there
comes an ogre to the Gate of Rashomon, and that he seizes all who pass
by?”
The second knight, Watanabe, answered him, saying:
“Do not talk such nonsense! All the ogres were killed by our chief
Raiko at Oeyama! It cannot be true, because even if any ogres did
escape from that great killing they would not dare to show themselves
in this city, for they know that our brave master would at once attack
them if he knew that any of them were still alive!”
“Then do you disbelieve what I say, and think that I am telling you a
falsehood?”
“No, I do not think that you are telling a lie,” said Watanabe; “but
you have heard some old woman’s story which is not worth believing.”
“Then the best plan is to prove what I say, by going there yourself and
finding out yourself whether it is true or not,” said Hojo.
Watanabe, the second knight, could not bear the thought that his
companion should believe he was afraid, so he answered quickly:
“Of course, I will go at once and find out for myself!”
So Watanabe at once got ready to go—he buckled on his long sword and
put on a coat of armor, and tied on his large helmet. When he was ready
to start he said to the others:
“Give me something so that I can prove I have been there!”
Then one of the men got a roll of writing paper and his box of Indian
ink and brushes, and the four comrades wrote their names on a piece of
paper.
“I will take this,” said Watanabe, “and put it on the Gate of Rashomon,
so to-morrow morning will you all go and look at it? I may be able to
catch an ogre or two by then!” and he mounted his horse and rode off
gallantly.
It was a very dark night, and there was neither moon nor star to light
Watanabe on his way. To make the darkness worse a storm came on, the
rain fell heavily and the wind howled like wolves in the mountains. Any
ordinary man would have trembled at the thought of going out of doors,
but Watanabe was a brave warrior and dauntless, and his honor and word
were at stake, so he sped on into the night, while his companions
listened to the sound of his horse’s hoofs dying away in the distance,
then shut the sliding shutters close and gathered round the charcoal
fire and wondered what would happen—and whether their comrade would
encounter one of those horrible Oni.
At last Watanabe reached the Gate of Rashomon, but peer as he might
through the darkness he could see no sign of an ogre.
“It is just as I thought,” said Watanabe to himself; “there are
certainly no ogres here; it is only an old woman’s story. I will stick
this paper on the gate so that the others can see I have been here when
they come to-morrow, and then I will take my way home and laugh at them
all.”
He fastened the piece of paper, signed by all his four companions, on
the gate, and then turned his horse’s head towards home.
As he did so he became aware that some one was behind him, and at the
same time a voice called out to him to wait. Then his helmet was seized
from the back. “Who are you?” said Watanabe fearlessly. He then put out
his hand and groped around to find out who or what it was that held him
by the helmet. As he did so he touched something that felt like an
arm—it was covered with hair and as big round as the trunk of a tree!
Watanabe knew at once that this was the arm of an ogre, so he drew his
sword and cut at it fiercely.
There was a loud yell of pain, and then the ogre dashed in front of the
warrior.
Watanabe’s eyes grew large with wonder, for he saw that the ogre was
taller than the great gate, his eyes were flashing like mirrors in the
sunlight, and his huge mouth was wide open, and as the monster
breathed, flames of fire shot out of his mouth.
The ogre thought to terrify his foe, but Watanabe never flinched. He
attacked the ogre with all his strength, and thus they fought face to
face for a long time. At last the ogre, finding that he could neither
frighten nor beat Watanabe and that he might himself be beaten, took to
flight. But Watanabe, determined not to let the monster escape, put
spurs to his horse and gave chase.
But though the knight rode very fast the ogre ran faster, and to his
disappointment he found himself unable to overtake the monster, who was
gradually lost to sight.
Watanabe returned to the gate where the fierce fight had taken place,
and got down from his horse. As he did so he stumbled upon something
lying on the ground.
Stooping to pick it up he found that it was one of the ogre’s huge arms
which he must have slashed off in the fight. His joy was great at
having secured such a prize, for this was the best of all proofs of his
adventure with the ogre. So he took it up carefully and carried it home
as a trophy of his victory.
When he got back, he showed the arm to his comrades, who one and all
called him the hero of their band and gave him a great feast. His
wonderful deed was soon noised abroad in Kyoto, and people from far and
near came to see the ogre’s arm.
Watanabe now began to grow uneasy as to how he should keep the arm in
safety, for he knew that the ogre to whom it belonged was still alive.
He felt sure that one day or other, as soon as the ogre got over his
scare, he would come to try to get his arm back again. Watanabe
therefore had a box made of the strongest wood and banded with iron. In
this he placed the arm, and then he sealed down the heavy lid, refusing
to open it for anyone. He kept the box in his own room and took charge
of it himself, never allowing it out of his sight.
Now one night he heard some one knocking at the porch, asking for
admittance.
When the servant went to the door to see who it was, there was only an
old woman, very respectable in appearance. On being asked who she was
and what was her business, the old woman replied with a smile that she
had been nurse to the master of the house when he was a little baby. If
the lord of the house were at home she begged to be allowed to see him.
The servant left the old woman at the door and went to tell his master
that his old nurse had come to see him. Watanabe thought it strange