Kwaidan: Stories and Studies of Strange Things
(5) it is written that if one find the body of a Rokuro-Kubi without
its head, and remove the body to another place, the head will never be
able to join itself again to the neck. And the book further says that
when the head comes back and finds that its body has been moved, it
will strike itself upon the floor three times,—bounding like a
ball,—and will pant as in great fear, and presently die. Now, if these
be Rokuro-Kubi, they mean me no good;—so I shall be justified in
following the instructions of the book.”...
He seized the body of the aruji by the feet, pulled it to the window,
and pushed it out. Then he went to the back-door, which he found
barred; and he surmised that the heads had made their exit through the
smoke-hole in the roof, which had been left open. Gently unbarring the
door, he made his way to the garden, and proceeded with all possible
caution to the grove beyond it. He heard voices talking in the grove;
and he went in the direction of the voices,—stealing from shadow to
shadow, until he reached a good hiding-place. Then, from behind a
trunk, he caught sight of the heads,—all five of them,—flitting about,
and chatting as they flitted. They were eating worms and insects which
they found on the ground or among the trees. Presently the head of the
aruji stopped eating and said:—
“Ah, that traveling priest who came to-night!—how fat all his body is!
When we shall have eaten him, our bellies will be well filled... I was
foolish to talk to him as I did;—it only set him to reciting the sûtras
on behalf of my soul! To go near him while he is reciting would be
difficult; and we cannot touch him so long as he is praying. But as it
is now nearly morning, perhaps he has gone to sleep... Some one of you
go to the house and see what the fellow is doing.”
Another head—the head of a young woman—immediately rose up and flitted
to the house, lightly as a bat. After a few minutes it came back, and
cried out huskily, in a tone of great alarm:—
“That traveling priest is not in the house;—he is gone! But that is not
the worst of the matter. He has taken the body of our aruji; and I do
not know where he has put it.”
At this announcement the head of the aruji—distinctly visible in the
moonlight—assumed a frightful aspect: its eyes opened monstrously; its
hair stood up bristling; and its teeth gnashed. Then a cry burst from
its lips; and—weeping tears of rage—it exclaimed:—
“Since my body has been moved, to rejoin it is not possible! Then I
must die!... And all through the work of that priest! Before I die I
will get at that priest!—I will tear him!—I will devour him!... _And
there he is_—behind that tree!—hiding behind that tree! See him!—the
fat coward!”...
In the same moment the head of the aruji, followed by the other four
heads, sprang at Kwairyō. But the strong priest had already armed
himself by plucking up a young tree; and with that tree he struck the
heads as they came,—knocking them from him with tremendous blows. Four
of them fled away. But the head of the aruji, though battered again and
again, desperately continued to bound at the priest, and at last caught
him by the left sleeve of his robe. Kwairyō, however, as quickly
gripped the head by its topknot, and repeatedly struck it. It did not
release its hold; but it uttered a long moan, and thereafter ceased to
struggle. It was dead. But its teeth still held the sleeve; and, for
all his great strength, Kwairyō could not force open the jaws.
With the head still hanging to his sleeve he went back to the house,
and there caught sight of the other four Rokuro-Kubi squatting
together, with their bruised and bleeding heads reunited to their
bodies. But when they perceived him at the back-door all screamed, “The
priest! the priest!”—and fled, through the other doorway, out into the
woods.
Eastward the sky was brightening; day was about to dawn; and Kwairyō
knew that the power of the goblins was limited to the hours of
darkness. He looked at the head clinging to his sleeve,—its face all
fouled with blood and foam and clay; and he laughed aloud as he thought
to himself: “What a _miyagé!_[4]—the head of a goblin!” After which he
gathered together his few belongings, and leisurely descended the
mountain to continue his journey.
Right on he journeyed, until he came to Suwa in Shinano; (6) and into
the main street of Suwa he solemnly strode, with the head dangling at
his elbow. Then woman fainted, and children screamed and ran away; and
there was a great crowding and clamoring until the _torité_ (as the
police in those days were called) seized the priest, and took him to
jail. For they supposed the head to be the head of a murdered man who,
in the moment of being killed, had caught the murderer’s sleeve in his
teeth. As for Kwairyō, he only smiled and said nothing when they
questioned him. So, after having passed a night in prison, he was
brought before the magistrates of the district. Then he was ordered to
explain how he, a priest, had been found with the head of a man
fastened to his sleeve, and why he had dared thus shamelessly to parade
his crime in the sight of people.
Kwairyō laughed long and loudly at these questions; and then he said:—
“Sirs, I did not fasten the head to my sleeve: it fastened itself
there—much against my will. And I have not committed any crime. For
this is not the head of a man; it is the head of a goblin;—and, if I
caused the death of the goblin, I did not do so by any shedding of
blood, but simply by taking the precautions necessary to assure my own
safety.”... And he proceeded to relate the whole of the
adventure,—bursting into another hearty laugh as he told of his
encounter with the five heads.
But the magistrates did not laugh. They judged him to be a hardened
criminal, and his story an insult to their intelligence. Therefore,
without further questioning, they decided to order his immediate
execution,—all of them except one, a very old man. This aged officer
had made no remark during the trial; but, after having heard the
opinion of his colleagues, he rose up, and said:—
“Let us first examine the head carefully; for this, I think, has not
yet been done. If the priest has spoken truth, the head itself should
bear witness for him... Bring the head here!”
So the head, still holding in its teeth the _koromo_ that had been
stripped from Kwairyō’s shoulders, was put before the judges. The old
man turned it round and round, carefully examined it, and discovered,
on the nape of its neck, several strange red characters. He called the
attention of his colleagues to these, and also bade them observe that
the edges of the neck nowhere presented the appearance of having been
cut by any weapon. On the contrary, the line of leverance was smooth as
the line at which a falling leaf detaches itself from the stem... Then
said the elder:—
“I am quite sure that the priest told us nothing but the truth. This is
the head of a Rokuro-Kubi. In the book _Nan-hō-ï-butsu-shi_ it is
written that certain red characters can always be found upon the nape
of the neck of a real Rokuro-Kubi. There are the characters: you can
see for yourselves that they have not been painted. Moreover, it is
well known that such goblins have been dwelling in the mountains of the
province of Kai from very ancient time... But you, Sir,” he exclaimed,
turning to Kwairyō,—“what sort of sturdy priest may you be? Certainly
you have given proof of a courage that few priests possess; and you
have the air of a soldier rather than a priest. Perhaps you once
belonged to the samurai-class?”
“You have guessed rightly, Sir,” Kwairyō responded. “Before becoming a
priest, I long followed the profession of arms; and in those days I
never feared man or devil. My name then was Isogai Héïdazaëmon
Takétsura of Kyūshū: there may be some among you who remember it.”
At the mention of that name, a murmur of admiration filled the
court-room; for there were many present who remembered it. And Kwairyō
immediately found himself among friends instead of judges,—friends
anxious to prove their admiration by fraternal kindness. With honor
they escorted him to the residence of the daimyō, who welcomed him, and
feasted him, and made him a handsome present before allowing him to
depart. When Kwairyō left Suwa, he was as happy as any priest is
permitted to be in this transitory world. As for the head, he took it
with him,—jocosely insisting that he intended it for a _miyagé_.
And now it only remains to tell what became of the head.
A day or two after leaving Suwa, Kwairyō met with a robber, who stopped
him in a lonesome place, and bade him strip. Kwairyō at once removed
his _koromo_, and offered it to the robber, who then first perceived
what was hanging to the sleeve. Though brave, the highwayman was
startled: he dropped the garment, and sprang back. Then he cried
out:—“You!—what kind of a priest are you? Why, you are a worse man than
I am! It is true that I have killed people; but I never walked about
with anybody’s head fastened to my sleeve... Well, Sir priest, I
suppose we are of the same calling; and I must say that I admire
you!... Now that head would be of use to me: I could frighten people
with it. Will you sell it? You can have my robe in exchange for your
_koromo;_ and I will give you five _ryō_ for the head.”
Kwairyō answered:—
“I shall let you have the head and the robe if you insist; but I must
tell you that this is not the head of a man. It is a goblin’s head. So,
if you buy it, and have any trouble in consequence, please to remember
that you were not deceived by me.”
“What a nice priest you are!” exclaimed the robber. “You kill men, and
jest about it!... But I am really in earnest. Here is my robe; and here
is the money;—and let me have the head... What is the use of joking?”
“Take the thing,” said Kwairyō. “I was not joking. The only joke—if
there be any joke at all—is that you are fool enough to pay good money
for a goblin’s head.” And Kwairyō, loudly laughing, went upon his way.
Thus the robber got the head and the _koromo;_ and for some time he
played goblin-priest upon the highways. But, reaching the neighborhood
of Suwa, he there leaned the true story of the head; and he then became
afraid that the spirit of the Rokuro-Kubi might give him trouble. So he
made up his mind to take back the head to the place from which it had
come, and to bury it with its body. He found his way to the lonely
cottage in the mountains of Kai; but nobody was there, and he could not
discover the body. Therefore he buried the head by itself, in the grove
behind the cottage; and he had a tombstone set up over the grave; and
he caused a Ségaki-service to be performed on behalf of the spirit of
the Rokuro-Kubi. And that tombstone—known as the Tombstone of the
Rokuro-Kubi—may be seen (at least so the Japanese story-teller
declares) even unto this day.
A DEAD SECRET
A long time ago, in the province of Tamba (1), there lived a rich
merchant named Inamuraya Gensuké. He had a daughter called O-Sono. As
she was very clever and pretty, he thought it would be a pity to let
her grow up with only such teaching as the country-teachers could give
her: so he sent her, in care of some trusty attendants, to Kyōto, that
she might be trained in the polite accomplishments taught to the ladies
of the capital. After she had thus been educated, she was married to a
friend of her father’s family—a merchant named Nagaraya;—and she lived
happily with him for nearly four years. They had one child,—a boy. But
O-Sono fell ill and died, in the fourth year after her marriage.
On the night after the funeral of O-Sono, her little son said that his
mamma had come back, and was in the room upstairs. She had smiled at