Ancient Tales and Folk-Lore of Japan by Richard Gordon Smith (ebook reader android TXT) 📖

sermon on spinsterhood,’ cried O Cho. ‘I have no intention of remaining single, I can tell you; and as for Shinsaku I would rather marry him than any one else—so do not worry yourself further on that account. Settle the day of the happy event.’

Needless to say, young Gisuke was delighted, and so was Shinsaku; and they settled that the marriage should be three days thence.

Soon, when all the fishing-boats had returned to the village, the news spread; and it would be difficult to describe the state of the younger men’s feelings. Hitherto every one had hoped to win the pretty O Cho San; all had lived in that happy hope, and rejoiced in the uncertain state of love, which causes such happiness in its early stages. Shinsaku had hitherto been a general favourite. Now the whole of their hopes were dashed to the ground. O Cho was not for any of them. As for Shinsaku, how they suddenly hated him! What was to be done? they asked one another, little thinking of the comical side, or that in any case O Cho could marry only one of them.

No attention was paid to the fish they had caught; their boats were scarcely pulled high enough on the beach for safety; their minds were wholly given to the question how each and every one of them could marry O Cho San. First of all, it was decided to tell Shinsaku that they would prevent his marriage if possible. There were several fights on the quiet beach, which had never before been disturbed by a display of ill-feeling. At last Gisuke, O Cho’s brother, consulted with his sister and Shinsaku; and they decided, for the peace of the island, to break off the marriage, O Cho and her lover determining that at all events they would marry no one else.

However, even this great sacrifice had no effect. There were fully thirty men; in fact, the whole of the bachelors wanted to marry O Cho; they fought daily; the whole island was thrown into a discontent. Poor O Cho San! What could she do? Had not she and Shinsaku done enough already in sacrificing happiness for the peace of the island? There was only one more thing she could do, and, being a Japanese girl, she did it. She wrote two letters, one to her brother Gisuke, another to Shinsaku, bidding them farewell. ‘The island of Hatsushima has never had trouble until I was born,’ she said. ‘For three hundred years or more our people, though poor, have lived happily and in peace. Alas! now it is no longer so, on account of me. Farewell! I shall be dead. Tell our people that I have died to bring them back their senses, for they have been foolish about me. Farewell!’

After leaving the two letters where Gisuke slept, O Cho slipped stealthily out of the house (it was a pouring-wet and stormy night and the 10th of June), and cast herself into the sea from some rocks near her cottage, after well loading her sleeves with stones, so that she might rise no more.

Next morning, when Gisuke found the letters, instinctively he knew what must have happened, and rushed from the house to find Shinsaku. Brother and lover read their letters together, and were stricken with grief, as, indeed, was every one else. A search was made, and soon O Cho’s straw slippers were found on the point of rocks near her house. Gisuke knew she must have jumped into the sea here, and he and Shinsaku dived down and found her body lying at the bottom. They brought it to the surface, and it was buried just beyond the rocks on which she had last stood.

From that day Shinsaku was unable to sleep at night. The poor fellow was quite distracted. O Cho’s letter and straw slippers he placed beside his bed and surrounded them with flowers. His days he spent decorating and weeping over her tomb.

At last one evening Shinsaku resolved to make away with his own body, hoping that his spirit might find O Cho; and he wandered towards her tomb to take a last farewell. As he did so he thought he saw O Cho, and called her aloud three or four times, and then with outstretched arms he rushed delightedly at her. The noise awoke Gisuke, whose house was close to the grave. He came out, and found Shinsaku clasping the stone pillar which was placed at its head.

Shinsaku explained that he had seen the spirit of O Cho, and that he was about to follow her by taking his life; but from this he was dissuaded.

‘Do not do that; devote your life, rather, and I will help with you in building a shrine dedicated to Cho. You will join her when you die by nature; but please her spirit here by never marrying another.’

Shinsaku promised. The young men of the place now began to be deeply sorry for Shinsaku. What selfish beasts they had been! they thought. However, they would mend their ways, and spend all their spare time in building a shrine to O Cho San; and this they did. The shrine is called ‘The Shrine of O Cho San of Hatsushima,’ and a ceremony is held there every 10th of June. Curious to relate, it invariably rains on that day, and the fishermen say that the spirit of O Cho comes in the rain. Hence the song:—

To-day is the tenth of June. May the rain fall in torrents!

For I long to see my dearest O Cho San.

Hi, Hi, Ya-re-ko-no-sa! Ya-re-ko-no-sa!

The shrine still stands, I am told.

32. Kume Slays the Eagle, Torijima

XXVIII THE KING OF TORIJIMA 1

MANY years ago there lived a Daimio called Tarao. His castle and home were at Osaki, in Osumi Province, and amongst his retinue was a faithful and favourite servant whose name was Kume Shuzen. Kume had long been land-steward to the Lord Tarao, and indeed acted for him in everything connected with business.

One day Kume had been despatched to the capital, Kyoto, to attend to business for his master, when the Daimio Toshiro of Hyuga quarrelled with the Daimio of Osumi over some boundary question, and, Kume not being there to help his master, who was a hasty person, the two clans fought at the foot of Mount Kitamata.

[paragraph continues] The Lord Tarao of Osumi was killed, and so were most of his men. They were most completely beaten. The survivors retired to their lord’s castle at Osaki; but the enemy followed them up, and again defeated them, taking the castle.

Messengers had been despatched to bring back Kume, of course; but Kume decided that there was only one honourable thing to do, and that was to gather the few remaining samurai he could and fight again in his dead master’s behalf. Unfortunately, only some fifty men came to his call. These, with Kume, hid in the mountains with the intention of waiting until they had recruited more. One of Toshiro’s spies found this out, and all except Kume were taken prisoners.

Being hotly pursued, Kume hid himself in the daytime, and made for the sea by night. After three clays he reached Hizaki, and there, having bought all the provision he could carry, hid himself until an opportunity should come of seizing a boat in the darkness, hoping to baffle his pursuers.

Kume was no sailor; in fact, he had hardly ever been in a boat, and never except as a passenger. There was no difficulty in finding a boat. He pushed it off and let it drift, for he could not use the oar, and understood nothing about a sail. Fortunately, Hizaki is a long cape on the S.E. coast, facing the open Pacific, and therefore there was no difficulty in getting away, the wind being favourable and the tide as well; besides, there is here a strong current always travelling south towards the Loochoos. Kume was more or less indifferent as to where he went, and even if he had cared he could not have helped himself, for, though his knowledge of direction on land was very good, as soon as he found himself out of sight of land he was lost. All he knew was that where the sun rose there was no land which he could reach, that China lay in the direction in which it set, and that to the south there were islands which were reputed to hold savages, Nambanjin (foreign southern savages). Thus Kume drifted on, he knew not whither, lying in the bottom of the boat, and in no way economising his provisions; and it naturally came to pass that at the end of the second day he had no water left, and suffered much in consequence.

Towards morning on the fifth day Kume lay half-asleep in the bottom of the boat. Suddenly he felt it bump.

‘What ho, she bumps!’ said he to himself in his native tongue, and, sitting up, he found he had drifted on to a rocky island. Kume was not long in scrambling ashore and dragging his boat as high as he was able. The first thing he set about doing was to find water to quench his thirst. As he wandered along the rocky shore hunting for a stream, Kume knew that the island could not be inhabited, for there were tens of thousands of sea-fowl perched upon the rocks, feeding along the beach and floating on the water; others were sitting on eggs. Kume could see that he was not likely to starve while the birds were breeding, and he could see, moreover, that fish were there in abundance, for birds of the gannet species were simply gorging themselves with a kind of iwashi (sardine), which made the surface of the calm sea frizzle into foam in their endeavours to escape the larger fish that were pursuing them from underneath. Shoals of flying-fish came quite close to shore, pursued by the magnificent albacore; which clearly showed that fishermen did not visit these parts. Shellfish were in plenty in the coral pools, and among them lay, thickly strewn, the smaller of the pearl mussels with which Kume was familiar in his own country.

There was no sand on this island—that is to say, on the seashore. Everything seemed to be of coral formation, except that there was a thick reddish substance on the top of all, out of which grew low scrubby trees bearing many fruits, which Kume found quite excellent to eat. There was no trouble in finding water: there were several streams flowing down the beach and coming from the thick scrub.

Kume returned to his boat, to make sure that it was safe, and, having found a better cove for it, he moved it thither. Then, having eaten some more fruit and shellfish and seaweed, Kume lay down to sleep, and to think of his dead master, and wonder how he could eventually avenge him on the Daimio Toshiro of Hyuga.

When morning broke Kume was not a little surprised to see some eight or nine figures of people, as he first thought, sleeping; but when it grew lighter he found that they were turtles, and it was not long before he was on shore and had turned one; but then, recollecting that there was plenty of food without taking the life of a beast so much venerated, he let it go. ‘Perhaps,’ thought he, like Urashima, my kindness to the turtle may save me. Indeed, these turtles may be messengers or retainers of the Sea King’s Palace!’

One thing that Kume now decided was to learn to row and sail his boat. He set to that very morning, and almost mastered the art of using the immense sculling oar used by present and ancient Japanese alike. In the afternoon he visited