Ancient Tales and Folk-Lore of Japan Part 16

Both men fenced their best. There was great excitement. Gundayu had never done so well before; but Harada was too good. He won the match, receiving the gold image of Kwannon from the hands of the Daimio amid loud cheering.

Gundayu left the scene of the encounter, boiling over with jealousy and vowing vengeance. Four of his most faithful companions left with him, and said they would help him to waylay and a.s.sault Harada that very evening. Having arranged this cowardly plan, they proceeded to hide on the road which Harada must traverse on his return home.

For three hours they lay there with evil intentions. At last in the moonlight they saw Harada come staggering along, for, as was natural on such an occasion, he had, with friends, been indulging in sakA freely.

Gundayu and his four companions sprang out at him, Gundayu shouting, 'Now you will have to fight me to the death.'

Harada tried to draw his sword, but was slow, his head whirling. Gundayu did not wait, but cut him to the ground, killing him. The five villains then hunted through his clothes, found the golden image of Kwannon, and ran off, never again to appear on the domains of the Lord of Tsugaru.

When the body of Harada was found there was great grief.

Yonosuke, Harada's son, a boy of sixteen, vowed to avenge his father's death, and obtained from the Daimio special permission to kill Gundayu as and when he chose; the disappearance of Gundayu was sufficient evidence that he had been the murderer.

Yonosuke set out that day on his hunt for Gundayu. He wandered about the country for five long years without getting the slightest clue; but at the end of that time, by the guidance of Buddha, he located his enemy at Gifu, where he was acting as fencing-master to the feudal lord of that place.

Yonosuke found that it would be difficult to get at Gundayu in an ordinary way, for he hardly ever left the castle. He decided, therefore, to change his name to that of Ippai, and to apply for a place in Gundayu's house as a chugen (a samurai's private attendant).

In this Ippai (as we shall now call him) was particularly lucky, for, as Gundayu was in want of such an attendant, he got the place.

On the 24th of June a great celebration was held at the house of Gundayu, it being the fifth anniversary of his service to the clan. He put his stolen golden image of Kwannon on the tokonoma (the part of a j.a.panese room, raised five inches above the floor, where pictures and flowers are placed), and a dinner, with sakA, was set before it. A dinner was given by Gundayu to his friends, all of whom drank so deeply that they fell asleep.

Next day the image of Kwannon had disappeared. It was not to be found. A few days later Ippai became ill, and, owing to poverty, was unable to buy proper medicine; he went from bad to worse. His fellow-servants were kind to him; but they could do nothing that improved his condition. Ippai did not seem to care; he lay in his bed and seemed almost pleased to be getting weaker and weaker. All he asked was that a branch of his favourite omoto (rhodea j.a.ponica) should be kept in a vase before his bed, so that he might see it continually; and this simple request was naturally complied with.

In the autumn Ippai pa.s.sed quietly away and was buried. After the funeral, when the servants were cleaning out the room in which he had died, it was noticed with astonishment that a small white snake was curled round the vase containing the omoto. They tried to remove it; but it coiled itself tighter. At last they threw the vase into the pond, not caring to have such a thing about them.

To their astonishment, the water had no effect on the snake, which continued to cling to the vase. Feeling that there was something uncanny about the snake, they wanted to get it farther away. So they cast a net, brought the vase and snake to sh.o.r.e again, and threw them into a stream. Even that made but little difference, the snake slightly changing its position so as to keep the branch of omoto from falling out of the vase.

By this time there was consternation among the servants, and the news spread to the different houses within the castle gates. Some samurai came down to the stream to see, and found the white snake still firmly coiled about the vase and branch. One of the samurai drew his sword and made a slash at the snake, which let go and escaped; but the vase was broken, and, to the alarm of all, the image of the Kwannon fell out into the stream, together with a stamped permit from the Feudal Lord of Tsugaru to kill a certain man, whose name was left blank.

The samurai who had broken the vase and found the lost treasure seemed particularly pleased, and hastened to tell Gundayu the good news; but, instead of being pleased, that person showed signs of fear. He became deadly pale when he heard the story of the death of Ippai and of the extraordinary appearance of the mysterious white snake. He trembled. He realised that Ippai was no less a person than Yonosuke, son of Harada, whose appearance after the murder he had always feared.

True to the spirit of a samurai, however, Gundayu 'pulled himself together,' and professed great pleasure to the person who had brought the image of Kwannon. Moreover, to celebrate the occasion, he gave a great feast that evening. Curiously enough, the samurai who had broken the vase and recovered the image became suddenly ill, and was unable to attend.

After he had dismissed his guests, at about 10 P.M., Gundayu retired to his bed. In the middle of the night he awoke with what he took to be a terrible nightmare. There was a choking sensation at his throat; he squirmed and twisted; gurgling noises proceeded from his mouth to such an extent that he aroused his wife, who in terror struck a light. She saw a white snake coiled tightly round her husband's throat; his face was purple, and his eyeb.a.l.l.s stood out two inches from his face.

She called for help; but it was too late. As the young samurai came rus.h.i.+ng in, their fencing-master was black in the face and dead.

Next day there was a close investigation. Messengers were despatched to the Lord of Tsugaru to inquire as to the history of the murdered Harada Kurando, father of Yonosuke, or 'Ippai,' and as to that of Gundayu, who had been in his employ for five years. Having ascertained the truth, the Lord of Gifu, moved by the zeal of Yonosuke in discharging his filial duties, returned the golden image of Kwannon to the bereaved family of Harada; and in commemoration he wors.h.i.+pped the dead snake at a shrine erected at the foot of Kodayama Mountain. The spirit is still known as Hakuja no Myojin, The White Serpent G.o.d.

60. What Saotome and Tamajo Found.

LV A FESTIVAL OF THE AWABI FISH.

MANAZURU-MINATO is situated on a small promontory of the same name. It faces the Sagama Bay, famed for beauty; at its back are mountains rising gradually and overtopped in the distance by the majestic Fuji; to the north on clear days the sandy sh.o.r.es of Kozu and Oiso, twenty-five miles off, seem to be almost within arm's reach. Some people have compared the beauties of Manazuru-zaki from cape to river with the place in China called 'Sekiheki' by the celebrated poet of that country, Sotoba, who wrote 'Sekiheki no Fu,' the Ode to Sekiheki.

Many years ago Minamoto-no-Yoritomo, after his defeat at the battle of Is.h.i.+bas.h.i.+yama, fled to Manazuru-minato, and stayed there for a few days while waiting for favourable weather to cross to the opposite side, the province of Awa. One can still see, I am told, the cave in which he hid, which retains its old name, 's.h.i.+toto-iwa.' The scenery on the coast is magnificent. The rocks rise sheer out of the sea and enclose a perfect little bay on the inside of Manazuru Zaki (Cape). There the fishermen erected a quiet little shrine, 'Kibune Jinja,' where they wors.h.i.+pped the G.o.ddess who guards the fis.h.i.+ng of their coast. They had but little to complain of in the Bay of Manazuru. The waters were deep, and always well-stocked with fish such as tai; in due season came the sawara (giant mackerel) and all the smaller, migratory fishes, including the sardine and the anchovy. The fishermen had naught to complain of until about forty years ago, when a strange thing happened.

On the 24th of June, a person from some inland place arrived for a few days' sea-bathing. He was no swimmer, and he was drowned the first day. His body was never recovered, though the fishermen did all they could to find it. From this event onwards for a full two years the abundance of fish in the bay grew less and less, until it became difficult to catch enough to eat. The situation was serious in the extreme.

Some of the elder fishermen attributed the change to the stranger who had been drowned.

'It is his unrecovered body,' they said, 'that has made our sacred waters change. The uncleanness has offended Gu gun O Hime, our G.o.ddess. It will never do to go on as we are. We must hold a special festival at the temple of Kibune Jinja.'

Accordingly, the head priest, Iwata, was approached. He was pleased with the idea, and a certain day was fixed upon.

On the appointed evening hundreds of fishermen gathered together with torches in one hand and s.h.i.+rayu or GoheiA 1 papers fastened on a bamboo in the other.

[paragraph continues] They formed into procession and advanced towards the shrine from various directions, beating gongs. At the temple the priest read from the sacred books, and prayed to the G.o.ddess that had watched over them and their fisheries not to desert them because their waters had been polluted by a dead body. They would search for it by every means in their power and cleanse the bay.

Suddenly, while the priest was praying, a light, the brilliance of which nearly blinded the fishermen, flashed out of the water. The priest stopped for a moment; a rumbling noise was heard at the bottom of the sea; and then there arose to the surface a G.o.ddess of surpa.s.sing beauty (probably Kwannon Gioran). She looked at the ceremony which was being held on sh.o.r.e for a full hour, and then disappeared with another flash, leaving the sound of roaring waves.

The priest and the elder fishermen considered matters, and came to the conclusion that what they had seen was indeed their G.o.ddess, and that she had been pleased at their ceremony. Also, they thought the dead body must still be at the bottom of the bay, directly under the spot whence the flashes of light and the G.o.ddess herself had appeared. It was arranged that two young virgins who could dive should be sent down at the spot to see, and two were accordingly chosen--Saotome and Tamajo. Wrapped in white skirts, these maidens were taken in a boat to where the flashes and the G.o.ddess had appeared. The girls dived, reached the bottom, and searched for the body of the man drowned two years before. Instead of finding it, they saw only a small but dazzling light. Curiosity led them to the spot, and there they found hundreds upon hundreds of awabi (ear-sh.e.l.ls) fastened upon a rock six feet in height and twenty-five or thirty in length. Whenever the fish moved they were obliged to raise their sh.e.l.ls, and it was the glitter of the pearls inside that had attracted the damsels. This rock must have been the tomb of the drowned, or else the home of the G.o.ddess.

Saotome and Tamajo returned to the surface, each having taken from the rock a large sh.e.l.l to show the priest. As they came to the sh.o.r.e cheers were given in their honour, and the priest and the fishermen crowded round them.

On learning about the awabi sh.e.l.ls, which they had never before heard of as being in the bay, they came to the conclusion that it was not uncleanness that kept the fish away. The lights thrown from the brilliant nacreous sh.e.l.ls, and pearls inside them, must be the cause. Many times have we heard of the awabi flying. They must have flown here at some time within two years. The fishermen resolved to remove them. It was evident that the G.o.ddess had appeared in the light so as to show what it was that kept the fish away.

No time was lost. Many hundreds of men and women went down and cleared the place; and the fish began to. return to Manazuru-minato.

At the suggestion of the priest, Iwata, there is held on every 24th of June a matsuri (festival). The fishermen light torches and go to the shrine for wors.h.i.+p all the night through. This is called the 'Awabi Festival' of Kibune.

NOTE.--The story was told to me by a man who knows nothing of sh.e.l.l-fish. He told the story as of the osari, a kind of c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.l dug out of the sand at low tide. It is impossible that this story could have referred to other sh.e.l.l-fish than haliotis (the ear-sh.e.l.l), or the awabi, or the regular pearl oyster.

Diving women have seen the 'flight' of haliotis and described it to me. If one feels disposed to leave a rock, they all feel the same impulse and go. Thus it is that large old haliotis sometimes appear on a rock some fifteen fathoms deep when not one was there the day before; and they go with equal quickness. For a thousand years or more the same rocks have been haunted. And divers keep their finds at the bottom of the sea a great secret--at least, so I observe at Tos.h.i.+.

Footnotes.

342:1 Gohei papers are a s.h.i.+nto emblem, representing gifts of cloth to the deity, usually the G.o.d Kami. Some say Gohei represent, in their curious cutting, the Kami beating dora, a gong used in wors.h.i.+p.

61. The Spirit of the Willow Tree Appears to Gobei.

LVI THE SPIRIT OF A WILLOW TREE SAVES FAMILY HONOUR.

LONG ago there lived in Yamada village, Saras.h.i.+na Gun, s.h.i.+nano Province, one of the richest men in the northern part of j.a.pan. For many generations the family had been rich, and at last the fortune descended in the eighty-third generation to Gobei Yuasa. The family had no t.i.tle; but the people treated them almost with the respect due to a princely house. Even the boys in the street, who are not given to bestowing either compliments or t.i.tles of respect, bowed ceremoniously when they met Gobei Yuasa. Gobei was the soul of good-nature, sympathetic to all in trouble.

The riches which Gobei had inherited were mainly money and land, about which he worried himself very little; it would have been difficult to find a man who knew less and cared less about his affairs than Gobei. He spent his money freely, and when he came to think of accounts his easy nature let them all slide. His great pleasures were painting kakemono pictures, talking to his friends, and eating good things. He ordered his steward not to worry him with unsatisfactory accounts of crops or any other disagreeable subjects. 'The destiny of man and his fate is arranged in Heaven,' said he. Gobei was quite celebrated as a painter, and could have made a considerable amount of money by selling his kakemonos; but no--that would not be doing credit to his ancestors and his name.

One day, while things were going from bad to worse, and Gobei was seated in his room painting, a friend came to gossip. He told Gobei that the village people were beginning to talk seriously about a spirit that had been seen by no fewer than three of them. At first they had laughed at the man who saw the ghost; the second man who saw it they were inclined not to take quite seriously; but now it had been seen by one of the village elders, and so there could be no doubt about it.

'Where do they see it?' asked Gobei.

'They say that it appears under your old willow tree between eleven and twelve o'clock at night--the tree that hangs some of its boughs out of your garden into the street.'

'That is odd,' remarked Gobei. 'I can remember hearing of no murder under that tree, nor even spirit connection with any of my ancestors; but there must be something if three of our villagers have seen it. Yet, again, where there is an old willow tree some one is sure to say, sooner or later, that he has seen a ghost. If there is a spirit there, I wonder whose it is? I should like to paint the ghost if I could see it, so as to leave it to my descendants as the last ominous sign on the road which has led to the family's ruin. That I shall make an effort to do. This very evening I will sit up to watch for the thing.'

Never had Gobei been seized with such energy before. He dismissed his friend, and went to bed at four o'clock in the afternoon, so as to allow himself to be up at ten o'clock. At that hour his servant awoke him; but even then he could not be got up before eleven. By twelve o'clock, midnight, Gobei was at last out in his garden, hidden in bushes facing the willow. It was a bright night, and there was no sign of any ghost until after one o'clock, when clouds pa.s.sed over the moon. Just when Gobei was thinking of going back to bed, he beheld, arising from the ground under the willow, a thin column of white smoke, which gradually a.s.sumed the form of a charming girl.

Gobei stared in astonishment and admiration. He had never thought that a ghost could be such a vision of beauty. Rather had he expected to see a white, wild-eyed, dishevelled old woman with protruding bones, the spectacle of whom would freeze his marrow and make his teeth clatter.

Gradually the beautiful figure approached Gobei, and hung its head, as if it wished to address him.

'Who and what are you?' cried Gobei. 'You seem too beautiful, to my mind, to be the spirit of one who is dead. If you are indeed spectral, do tell me, if you may, whose spirit you are and why you appear under this willow tree!'

'I am not the spirit or ghost of man, as you say,' answered the spirit, 'but the spirit of this willow tree.'

'Then why do you leave the tree now, as they tell me you have done several times within the last ten days?'

'I am, as I say, the spirit of this willow, which was planted here in the twenty-first generation of your family. That is now about six centuries ago. I was planted to mark the place where your wise ancestor buried a treasure--twenty feet below the ground, and fifteen from my stem, facing east. There is a vast sum of gold in a strong iron chest hidden there. The money was buried to save your house when it was about to fall. Never hitherto has there been danger; but now, in your time, ruin has come, and it is for me to step forth and tell you how by the foresight of your ancestor you have been saved from disgracing the family name by bankruptcy. Pray dig the strong box up and save the name of your house. Begin as soon as you can, and be careful in future.'

Then she vanished.

Gobei returned to his house, scarcely believing it possible that such good luck had come to him as the spirit of the willow tree planted by his wise ancestor had said. He did not go to bed, however. He summoned a few of his most faithful servants, and at daybreak began digging. What excitement there was when at nineteen feet they struck the top of an iron chest! Gobei jumped with delight; and it may almost be said that his servants did the same, for to see their honoured master's name fall into the disgrace of bankruptcy would have caused many of them to disembowel themselves.

They tore and dug with all their might, until they had the huge and weighty case out of the hole. They broke off the top with pickaxes, and then Gobei saw a collection of old sacks. He seized one of these; but the age of it was too great. It burst, and sent rolling out over a hundred immense old-fas.h.i.+oned oblong gold coins of ancient times, which must have been worth A30 each. Gobei Yuasa's hand shook. He could hardly realise as true the good fortune which had come to him. Bag after bag was pulled out, each containing a small fortune, until finally the bottom of the box was reached. Here was found a letter some six hundred years of age, saying: 'He of my descendants who is obliged to make use of the treasure to save our family reputation will read aloud and make known that this treasure has been buried by me, Fuji Yuasa, in the twenty-first generation of our family, so that in time of need or danger a future generation will be able to fall back upon it and save the family name. He whose great misfortune necessitates the use of the treasure must say: "Greatly do I repent the folly that has brought the affairs of our family so low, and necessitated the a.s.sistance of an early ancestor. I can only repay such by diligent attention to my household affairs, and also show high appreciation and give kindness to the willow tree which has so long been watching and guarding my ancestor's treasure. These things I vow to do. I shall reform entirely."'

Gobei Yuasa read this out to his servants and to his friends. He became a man of energy. His lands and farms were properly taken care of, and the Yuasa family regained its influential position.

Gobei painted a kakemono of the spirit of the willow tree as he had seen her, and this he kept in his own room during the rest of his life. It is the famous painting, in the Yuasa Gardens to-day, which is called 'The Willow Ghost,' and perhaps it is the model from which most of the willow-tree-ghost paintings have sprung.

Gobei fenced in the famous willow tree, and attended to it himself; as did those who followed him.

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62. Chogoro and his Men Fail to Move the Kusunoki Tree.

LVII THE CAMPHOR TREE TOMB.

FIVE ri (ten miles) from s.h.i.+rakawa, in the province of Iwaki, there is a village called Yabuki-mura. Close by is a grove some 400 feet square. The trees used to include a monster camphor nearly 150 feet in height, of untold age, and venerated by villagers and strangers alike as one of the greatest trees in j.a.pan. A shrine was erected to it in the grove, which was known as the Nekoma-myojin forest; and a faithful old man, Hamada Tsus.h.i.+ma, lived there, caring for the tree, the shrine, and the whole grove.

One day the tree was felled; but, instead of withering or dying, it continued to grow, and it is still flouris.h.i.+ng, though lying on the ground. Poor Hamada Tsus.h.i.+ma disembowelled himself when the sacred tree had been cut down. Perhaps it is because his spirit entered the sacred tree that the tree will not die. Here is the story:-- On the 17th of January in the third and last year of the Meireki period--that is, 1658--a great fire broke out in the Homyo-ji Temple, in the Maruyama Hongo district of Yedo, now Tokio. The fire spread with such rapidity that not only was that particular district burned,< but="" also="" a="" full="" eighth="" of="" yedo="" itself="" was="" destroyed.="" many="" of="" the="" daimios'="" houses="" and="" palaces="" were="" consumed.="" the="" lord="" date="" tsunamune="" of="" sendai,="" one="" of="" the="" three="" greatest="" daimios="" (who="" were="" satsuma,="" kaga,="" sendai),="" had="" the="" whole="" of="" his="" seven="" palaces="" and="" houses="" destroyed="" by="" the="" fire;="" the="" other="" daimios="" or="" feudal="" lords="" lost="" only="" one="" or="">

Lord Date Tsunamune resolved to build the finest palace that could be designed. It was to be at s.h.i.+nzenza, in s.h.i.+ba. He ordered that no time should be lost, and directed one of his high officials, Harada Kai Naonori, to see to the matter.

Harada, accordingly, sent for the greatest house-building contractor of the day, one Kinokuniya Bunzaemon, and to him he said: 'You are aware that the fire has destroyed the whole of the town mansions of Lord Date Tsunamune. I am directed to see that the finest palace should be immediately built, second to none except the Shogun's. I have sent for you as the largest contractor in Yedo. What can you do? Just make some suggestions and give me your opinion.'

'Certainly, my Lord, I can make plenty of suggestions; but to build such a palace will cost an enormous amount of money, especially now after this fire, for there is a great scarcity of large timber in the land.'

'Never mind expenses,' said Harada. 'Those I shall pay as you like and when you like; I will even advance money if you want it.'

'Oh, then,' answered the delighted contractor, 'I will start immediately. What would you think of having a palace like that of Kinkakuji in Kyoto, which was built by the Shogun As.h.i.+kaga? What I should build would be a finer mansion than that of the present Shogun--let alone those of any Daimio. The whole of the hagiA 1 to be made out of the rarest woods; the tokobas.h.i.+raA 2 to be of the nanten, and ceilings of unjointed camphor-tree boards, should we be able to find a tree of sufficient size. I can find nearly everything, except the last, in my own stocks; the camphor trees are difficult. There are but few; they are mostly sacred, and dangerous to interfere with or obtain. I know of one in the forest of Nekoma-myojin, in Iwaki Province. If I can get that tree, I should indeed be able to make an unjointed ceiling, and that would completely put other palaces and mansions in the second rank.'

'Well, well, I must leave all this to you,' said Harada. 'You know that no expense need be spared so long as you produce speedily what is required by Lord Date Tsunamune.'

The contractor bowed low, saying that he should set to and do his best; and he left, no doubt, delighted at so open a contract, which would enable him to fill his pockets. He set about making inquiries in every direction, and became convinced that the only camphor tree that would suit his purpose was the one before referred to--owing chiefly to its great breadth. Kinokuniya knew also that the part of the district wherein lay this tree belonged to or was under the management of Fujieda Geki, now in the Honjo district of Yedo acting as a Shogun's retainer, well off (receiving 1200 koku of rice a year), but not over scrupulous about money, of which he was always in need.

Contractor Kinokuniya soon learned all about the man, and then went to call.

'Your name is Kinokuniya Bunzaemon, I believe. What, may I ask, do you wish to see me about?' said Fujieda.

'Sir,' said the contractor, bowing low, 'it is as you say. My name is Kinokuniya Bunzaemon, and I am a wood contractor of whom perhaps your Lords.h.i.+p has heard, for I have built and supplied the wood for many mansions and palaces. I come here craving a.s.sistance in the way of permission to cut trees in a small forest called Nekoma-myojin, near the village called Yabukimura, in the Sendai district.'

The contractor did not tell Fujieda Geki, the Shogun's retainer or agent, that he was to build a mansion for the Daimio Date Tsunamune, and that the wood which he wanted to cut was within that Daimio's domains. For he knew full well that the Lord Date would never give him permission to cut a holy tree. It was an excellent idea to take the Daimio's trees by the help of the Shogun's agent, and charge for them fully afterwards. So he continued: 'I can a.s.sure you, sir, this recent fire has cleared the whole market of wood. If you will a.s.sist me to get what I want I will build you a new house for nothing, and by way of showing my appreciation I ask you to accept this small gift of yen zoo, which is only a little beginning.'

'You need not trouble with these small details,' said the delighted agent, pocketing the money, 'but do as you wish. I will send for the four local managers and head-men of the district wherein you wish to cut the trees, and I will let you know when they arrive in Yedo. With them you will be able to settle the matter.'

The interview was over. The contractor was on the high road, he felt, to getting the trees he required, and the money-wanting agent was equally well pleased that so slight an effort on his part should have been the means of enriching him by yen 200, with the promise of more and a new house.

About ten days later four men, the heads of villages, arrived in Yedo, and presented themselves to Fujieda, who sent for the timber contractor, telling the four, whose names were Mosuke, Magozaemon, Yohei, and Jinyemon, that he was pleased to see them and to note how loyal they had been in their attendance on the Shogun, for that he, the Shogun, had had his palace burned down in the recent fire, and desired to have one immediately built, the great and only difficulty being the timber. 'I am told by our great contractor, to whom I shall introduce you presently, that the only timber fit for rebuilding the Shogun's palace lies in your district. I myself know nothing about these details, and I shall leave you gentlemen to settle these matters with Kinokuniya, the contractor, so soon as he arrives. I have sent for him. In the meantime consider yourselves welcome, and please accept of the meal I have arranged in the next room for you. Come along and let us enjoy it.'

Fujieda led the four countrymen into the next room, and ate with them at the meal, during which time Kinokuniya the contractor arrived, and was promptly ushered into their presence. The meal was nearly at an end.

Fujieda introduced the contractor, who in his turn said: 'Gentlemen, we cannot discuss these matters here in the house of Lord Fujieda the Shogun's agent. Now that we know one another, let me invite you to supper; at that I can explain to you exactly what I want in the way of trees out of your district. Of course, you know my family are subjects of your feudal lords, and that we are therefore all the same.'

The four countrymen were delighted at so much hospitality. Two meals in an evening was an extraordinary dissipation for them, and that in Yedo! My word, what would they not be able to tell their wives on their return to the villages?

Kinokuniya led the four countrymen off to a restaurant called Kampanaro, in Ryogoku, where he treated them with the greatest hospitality. After the meal he said: 'Gentlemen, I hope you will allow me to hew timber from the forest in your village, for it is impossible for me otherwise to attempt any further building on a large scale.'

'Very well, you may hew,' said Mosuke, who was the senior of the four. 'Since the cutting of the trees in Nekoma-myojin forest is as it were a necessity for our lord, they must be cut; it is, in fact, I take it, an order from our lord that the trees shall be cut; but I must remind you that there is one tree in the grove which cannot be cut amid any circ.u.mstances whatever, and that is an enormous and sacred camphor tree which is very much revered in our district, and to which a shrine is erected. That tree we cannot consent to have cut.'

'Very well,' said the contractor. 'Just write me a little permit, giving me permission to cut any trees except the big camphor, and our business will be finished.'

Kinokuniya had by this time in the evening taken his measure of the countrymen--so shrewdly as to know that they were probably unable to write.

'Certainly,' said Mosuke. 'Just you write out a little agreement, Jinyemon.'

'No: I would rather you wrote it, Mago,' said Jinyemon.

'And I should like Yohei to write it,' said Mago.

'But I can't write at all,' said Yohei, turning to Jinyemon again.