Japanese Fairy Tales
that she should come at that time of night, but at the thought of his
old nurse, who had been like a foster-mother to him and whom he had not
seen for a long time, a very tender feeling sprang up for her in his
heart. He ordered the servant to show her in.
The old woman was ushered into the room, and after the customary bows
and greetings were over, she said:
“Master, the report of your brave fight with the ogre at the Gate of
Rashomon is so widely known that even your poor old nurse has heard of
it. Is it really true, what every one says, that you cut off one of the
ogre’s arms? If you did, your deed is highly to be praised!”
“I was very disappointed,” said Watanabe, “that I was not able take the
monster captive, which was what I wished to do, instead of only cutting
off an arm!”
“I am very proud to think,” answered the old woman, “that my master was
so brave as to dare to cut off an ogre’s arm. There is nothing that can
be compared to your courage. Before I die it is the great wish of my
life to see this arm,” she added pleadingly.
“No,” said Watanabe, “I am sorry, but I cannot grant your request.”
“But why?” asked the old woman.
“Because,” replied Watanabe, “ogres are very revengeful creatures, and
if I open the box there is no telling but that the ogre may suddenly
appear and carry off his arm. I have had a box made on purpose with a
very strong lid, and in this box I keep the ogre’s arm secure; and I
never show it to any one, whatever happens.”
“Your precaution is very reasonable,” said the old woman. “But I am
your old nurse, so surely you will not refuse to show ME the arm. I
have only just heard of your brave act, and not being able to wait till
the morning I came at once to ask you to show it to me.”
Watanabe was very troubled at the old woman’s pleading, but he still
persisted in refusing. Then the old woman said:
“Do you suspect me of being a spy sent by the ogre?”
“No, of course I do not suspect you of being the ogre’s spy, for you
are my old nurse,” answered Watanabe.
“Then you cannot surely refuse to show me the arm any longer.”
entreated the old woman; “for it is the great wish of my heart to see
for once in my life the arm of an ogre!”
Watanabe could not hold out in his refusal any longer, so he gave in at
last, saying:
“Then I will show you the ogre’s arm, since you so earnestly wish to
see it. Come, follow me!” and he led the way to his own room, the old
woman following.
When they were both in the room Watanabe shut the door carefully, and
then going towards a big box which stood in a corner of the room, he
took off the heavy lid. He then called to the old woman to come near
and look in, for he never took the arm out of the box.
“What is it like? Let me have a good look at it,” said the old nurse,
with a joyful face.
She came nearer and nearer, as if she were afraid, till she stood right
against the box. Suddenly she plunged her hand into the box and seized
the arm, crying with a fearful voice which made the room shake:
“Oh, joy! I have got my arm back again!”
And from an old woman she was suddenly transformed into the towering
figure of the frightful ogre!
Watanabe sprang back and was unable to move for a moment, so great was
his astonishment; but recognizing the ogre who had attacked him at the
Gate of Rashomon, he determined with his usual courage to put an end to
him this time. He seized his sword, drew it out of its sheath in a
flash, and tried to cut the ogre down.
So quick was Watanabe that the creature had a narrow escape. But the
ogre sprang up to the ceiling, and bursting through the roof,
disappeared in the mist and clouds.
In this way the ogre escaped with his arm. The knight gnashed his teeth
with disappointment, but that was all he could do. He waited in
patience for another opportunity to dispatch the ogre. But the latter
was afraid of Watanabe’s great strength and daring, and never troubled
Kyoto again. So once more the people of the city were able to go out
without fear even at night time, and the brave deeds of Watanabe have
never been forgotten!
HOW AN OLD MAN LOST HIS WEN
Many, many years ago there lived a good old man who had a wen like a
tennis-ball growing out of his right cheek. This lump was a great
disfigurement to the old man, and so annoyed him that for many years he
spent all his time and money in trying to get rid of it. He tried
everything he could think of. He consulted many doctors far and near,
and took all kinds of medicines both internally and externally. But it
was all of no use. The lump only grew bigger and bigger till it was
nearly as big as his face, and in despair he gave up all hopes of ever
losing it, and resigned himself to the thought of having to carry the
lump on his face all his life.
One day the firewood gave out in his kitchen, so, as his wife wanted
some at once, the old man took his ax and set out for the woods up
among the hills not very far from his home. It was a fine day in the
early autumn, and the old man enjoyed the fresh air and was in no hurry
to get home. So the whole afternoon passed quickly while he was
chopping wood, and he had collected a goodly pile to take back to his
wife. When the day began to draw to a close, he turned his face
homewards.
The old man had not gone far on his way down the mountain pass when the
sky clouded and rain began to fall heavily. He looked about for some
shelter, but there was not even a charcoal-burner’s hut near. At last
he espied a large hole in the hollow trunk of a tree. The hole was near
the ground, so he crept in easily, and sat down in hopes that he had
only been overtaken by a mountain shower, and that the weather would
soon clear.
But much to the old man’s disappointment, instead of clearing the rain
fell more and more heavily, and finally a heavy thunderstorm broke over
the mountain. The thunder roared so terrifically, and the heavens
seemed to be so ablaze with lightning, that the old man could hardly
believe himself to be alive. He thought that he must die of fright. At
last, however, the sky cleared, and the whole country was aglow in the
rays of the setting sun. The old man’s spirits revived when he looked
out at the beautiful twilight, and he was about to step out from his
strange hiding-place in the hollow tree when the sound of what seemed
like the approaching steps of several people caught his ear. He at once
thought that his friends had come to look for him, and he was delighted
at the idea of having some jolly companions with whom to walk home. But
on looking out from the tree, what was his amazement to see, not his
friends, but hundreds of demons coming towards the spot. The more he
looked, the greater was his astonishment. Some of these demons were as
large as giants, others had great big eyes out of all proportion to the
rest of their bodies, others again had absurdly long noses, and some
had such big mouths that they seemed to open from ear to ear. All had
horns growing on their foreheads. The old man was so surprised at what
he saw that he lost his balance and fell out of the hollow tree.
Fortunately for him the demons did not see him, as the tree was in the
background. So he picked himself up and crept back into the tree.
While he was sitting there and wondering impatiently when he would be
able to get home, he heard the sounds of gay music, and then some of
the demons began to sing.
“What are these creatures doing?” said the old man to himself. “I will
look out, it sounds very amusing.”
On peeping out, the old man saw that the demon chief himself was
actually sitting with his back against the tree in which he had taken
refuge, and all the other demons were sitting round, some drinking and
some dancing. Food and wine was spread before them on the ground, and
the demons were evidently having a great entertainment and enjoying
themselves immensely.
It made the old man laugh to see their strange antics.
“How amusing this is!” laughed the old man to himself “I am now quite
old, but I have never seen anything so strange in all my life.”
He was so interested and excited in watching all that the demons were
doing, that he forgot himself and stepped out of the tree and stood
looking on.
The demon chief was just taking a big cup of SAKE and watching one of
the demons dancing. In a little while he said with a bored air:
“Your dance is rather monotonous. I am tired of watching it. Isn’t
there any one amongst you all who can dance better than this fellow?”
Now the old man had been fond of dancing all his life, and was quite an
expert in the art, and he knew that he could do much better than the
demon.
“Shall I go and dance before these demons and let them see what a human
being can do? It may be dangerous, for if I don’t please them they may
kill me!” said the old fellow to himself.
His fears, however, were soon overcome by his love of dancing. In a few
minutes he could restrain himself no longer, and came out before the
whole party of demons and began to dance at once. The old man,
realizing that his life probably depended on whether he pleased these
strange creatures or not, exerted his skill and wit to the utmost.
The demons were at first very surprised to see a man so fearlessly
taking part in their entertainment, and then their surprise soon gave
place to admiration.
“How strange!” exclaimed the horned chief. “I never saw such a skillful
dancer before! He dances admirably!”
When the old man had finished his dance, the big demon said:
“Thank you very much for your amusing dance. Now give us the pleasure
of drinking a cup of wine with us,” and with these words he handed him
his largest wine-cup.
The old man thanked him very humbly:
“I did not expect such kindness from your lordship. I fear I have only
disturbed your pleasant party by my unskillful dancing.”
“No, no,” answered the big demon. “You must come often and dance for
us. Your skill has given us much pleasure.”
The old man thanked him again and promised to do so.
“Then will you come again to-morrow, old man?” asked the demon.
“Certainly, I will,” answered the old man.
“Then you must leave some pledge of your word with us,” said the demon.
“Whatever you like,” said the old man.
“Now what is the best thing he can leave with us as a pledge?” asked
the demon, looking round.
Then said one of the demon’s attendants kneeling behind the chief:
“The token he leaves with us must be the most important thing to him in
his possession. I see the old man has a wen on his right cheek. Now
mortal men consider such a wen very fortunate. Let my lord take the
lump from the old man’s right cheek, and he will surely come to-morrow,
if only to get that back.”
“You are very clever,” said the demon chief, giving his horns an
approving nod. Then he stretched out a hairy arm and claw-like hand,
and took the great lump from the old man’s right cheek. Strange to say,
it came off as easily as a ripe plum from the tree at the demon’s
touch, and then the merry troop of demons suddenly vanished.
The old man was lost in bewilderment by all that had happened. He
hardly knew for some time where he was. When he came to understand what
had happened to him, he was delighted to find that the lump on his
face, which had for so many years disfigured him, had really been taken
away without any pain to himself. He put up his hand to feel if any
scar remained, but found that his right cheek was as smooth as his
left.
The sun had long set, and the young moon had risen like a silver
crescent in the sky. The old man suddenly realized how late it was and
began to hurry home. He patted his right cheek all the time, as if to
make sure of his good fortune in having lost the wen. He was so happy