birds
we have already noticed certain birds mentioned in japanese legend, the pheasant in the story of momotaro, the ho-ho bird, the bridge of magpies in the account of tanabata, the mysterious light said to shine from the blue heron, the thunder bird, &c. the sekirei, or wagtails, are sacred to izanagi and izanami, for it was through these birds that these divinities first learnt the art of love, and not even the god of scarecrows can frighten them. when the great hero yamato-take died he was supposed to have been transformed into a white bird, and we read in the ho-jo-ki[1] that chomei fancied he heard in the note of a copper pheasant the cry of his mother. mythical creatures such as the tengu possess certain bird-like qualities, but they cannot be classed under the heading of birds, and for this reason they are dealt with elsewhere.
the cock
the god of mionoseki detests cocks and hens and everything pertaining to these birds, and the inhabitants respect his very marked dislike. on one occasion a certain steamer, shortly after making for the open sea, encountered a severe storm, and it was thought that the god of mionoseki, who is the god of mariners, must have been seriously offended. at length the captain discovered that one of his passengers was smoking a pipe adorned with the figure of a crowing cock. the pipe was immediately thrown into the sea, and the storm abated.
[pg 277]
we are able to gather the reason for the hatred of the cock from the following legend. in the kojiki we are informed that the son of the deity of kitsuki spent many an hour at mionoseki in catching birds and fish. at that time the cock was his trusted friend, and it was the duty of this bird to crow lustily when it was time for the god to return from his sport. on one occasion, however, the cock forgot to crow, and in consequence, in the god's hurry to go back in his boat he lost his oars, and was compelled to propel the vessel with his hands, which were severely bitten by fishes.
how yoritomo was saved by two doves
yoritomo, having been defeated in a battle against oba kage-chika, was forced to retreat with six of his followers. they ran with all speed through a forest, and, finding a large hollow tree, crept inside for shelter.
in the meantime oba kage-chika said to his cousin, oba kagetoki: "go and search for yoritomo, for i have good reason to believe that he lies hidden in this forest. i will so arrange my men that the flight of our enemy will be impossible."
oba kagetoki departed, none too pleased with the mission, for he had once been on friendly terms with yoritomo. when he reached the hollow tree and saw through a hole in the trunk that his old friend lay concealed within, he took pity on him, and returned to his cousin, saying: "i believe that yoritomo, our enemy, is not in this wood."
when oba kage-chika heard these words he cried fiercely: "you lie! how could yoritomo make his escape so soon and with my men standing on guard about the forest? lead the way, and i and some of my men will follow you. no cunning this time, cousin, or you shall severely suffer for it."
[pg 278]
in due time the party reached the hollow tree, and kage-chika was about to enter it, when his cousin cried: "stay! what folly is this? cannot you see that there is a spider's web spun across the opening? how could any one enter this tree without breaking it? let us spend our time more profitably elsewhere."
kage-chika, however, was still suspicious concerning his cousin, and he thrust his bow into the hollow trunk. it almost touched the crouching yoritomo, when two white doves suddenly flew out of the cavity.
"alas!" exclaimed kage-chika, "you are right, our enemy cannot lie concealed here, for doves and a cobweb would not admit of such a thing."
by the timely aid of two doves and a spider's web the great hero yoritomo made good his escape, and when, in later years, he became shogun he caused shrines to be erected to hachiman, the god of war, in recognition of his deliverance, for the doves of japan are recognised as the messengers of war, and not of peace, as is the case in our own country.
the hototogisu
"a solitary voice!
did the moon cry?
'twas but the hototogisu."
from the japanese.
there is a mysterious bird called the hototogisu which plaintively cries its own name, dividing it into syllables thus: "ho-to-to-gi-su." according to legend it is no earthly bird, but wanders from the realm of the dead at the end of may, and warns all peasants who see it that it is time to sow the rice. some interpret the bird's note as meaning, "has the kakemono been suspended?" others that it gently repeats: "surely it is better to return home." the latter interpretation is[pg 279] characteristically japanese, for if it is believed that souls return in the summer-time, it is reasonable to suppose that at least one of the birds should fly back to the old woods and streams and hills of nippon.
the tongue-cut sparrow
a cross old woman was at her wash-tub when her neighbour's pet sparrow ate up all the starch, mistaking it for ordinary food. the old woman was so angry at what had happened that she cut out the sparrow's tongue, and the unfortunate bird flew away to a mountain.
when the old couple to whom the sparrow belonged heard what had taken place they left their home and journeyed a great distance until they had the good fortune to find their pet again.
the sparrow was no less delighted to meet his master and mistress, and begged them to enter his house. when they had done so they were feasted with an abundance of fish and saké, were waited upon by the sparrow's wife, children, and grandchildren, and, not content with these deeds of hospitality, the feathered host danced a jig called the sparrow's dance.
when it was time for the old couple to return home the sparrow brought forth two wicker baskets, saying: "one is heavy, and the other is light. which would you rather have?"
"oh, the light one," replied the old couple, "for we are aged and the journey is a long one."
when the old people reached their home they opened the basket, and to their delight and amazement discovered gold and silver, jewels and silk. as fast as they took the precious things out an inexhaustible supply came to their place, so that the wonderful basket of treasure could not be emptied, and the happy old couple grew rich and prosperous.
[pg 280]
it was not long before the old woman who had cut out the sparrow's tongue heard about the good fortune of her neighbours, and she hastened to inquire where this wonderful sparrow was to be seen.
having gained the information, she had no difficulty in finding the sparrow. when the bird saw her he asked which of two baskets she would prefer to take away with her, the heavy or light one? the cruel and greedy old woman chose the heavy one, believing that this basket would contain more treasure than the light one; but when, after much labour, she reached home and opened it, devils sprang upon her and tore her to pieces.
a noble sacrifice
there was once a man who was extremely fond of shooting birds. he had two daughters, good buddhists, and each in turn pointed out the folly of their father's cruel sport, and begged him not to destroy life wantonly. however, the man was obstinate and would not listen to his daughters' entreaties. one day a neighbour asked him to shoot two storks, and he promised to do so. when the women heard what their father was about to do, they said: "let us dress in pure white garments and go down upon the shore to-night, for it is a place much frequented by storks. if our father should kill either of us in mistake for the birds, it will teach him a lesson, and he will surely repent his evil ways, which are contrary to the gentle teaching of the lord buddha."
that night the man went to the shore, and the cloudy sky made it difficult for him to discover any storks. at last, however, he saw two white objects in the distance. he fired; the bodies fell immediately, and he ran to where they lay, only to discover that he had shot both his noble, self-sacrificing daughters.[pg 281] stricken with sorrow, the man erected a funeral pyre and burnt the bodies of his poor children. having done these things, he shaved his head, went into the woods, and became a hermit.
a pair of phoenix
a clever woman named saijosen was engaged in embroidery. one day an old man called upon her, and said: "work for me on a piece of cloth a pair of phoenix." saijosen readily complied, and when the birds were worked the old man closed his eyes and pointed at the phoenix with his finger. immediately the birds became alive, and the girl and the old man mounted upon their backs and disappeared into the sky.
insects
much has been written about the japanese semi, or tree-crickets, and it seems strange to us that these little creatures should be bought and placed in minute cages, where they sing with extraordinary sweetness. lafcadio hearn in kotto gives us a pathetic story concerning one of these insects. he tells us that his servant forgot to feed it, and that gradually it ceased to sing, being forced at last to eat its own minute limbs.
the minminzemi's singing resembles the chanting of a buddhist priest, while the green semi, or higurashi, makes a sound like the trilling of a tiny bell. the carrying of a dried beetle is said to increase one's wardrobe. it must be remembered in the legends that follow that according to buddhist teaching all life is sacred, and, moreover, that on account of some sin the buddhists believe that the soul of a man or woman can enter even the minute form of an insect.
[pg 282]
dragon-flies
"the gold sun shimmering in noontide skies
shines down, where the red-burnished dragon-flies
flit to and fro in the translucent haze
over the village of eventless days!"
trans. by clara a. walsh.
the dragon-fly is frequently mentioned in japanese poetry, but nowhere more pathetically than in the following lines written by chiyo after the death of her little son:
"how far, i wonder, did he stray,
chasing the burnished dragon-fly to-day?"
chiyo, in this exquisite fragment, suggests a very great deal, for in her mother-love there is no dismal conception of death. she regards the future life of her little one as the happiest hour of playtime. once more in these lines there is the japanese idea of the soul coming back again.
the most charming japanese dragon-fly is called tenshi-tombo, "the emperor's dragon-fly." there is a larger variety particularly sought after by children, and of this species there are many more females than males. boys tie a female to a tree, and sing: "thou, the male, king of korea, dost thou not feel shame to flee away from the queen of the east?" this quaint song is an allusion to the legendary conquest of korea, to which we shall refer later on, and it succeeds in attracting the male dragon-fly. it is also believed that if a certain ideograph is traced in the air it has the power to paralyse the dragon-fly one wishes to catch.
tama's return
kazariya kyubei, a merchant, had a maid-servant called tama. tama worked well and cheerfully, but[pg 283] she was negligent in regard to her dress. one day, when she had been five years in kyubei's house, her master said to her: "tama, how is it that, unlike most girls, you seem to have no desire to look your best? when you go out you wear your working dress. surely you should put on a pretty robe on such occasions."
"good master," said tama, "you do well to rebuke me, for you do not know why, during all these years, i have worn old clothes and have made no attempt to wear pretty ones. when my father and mother died i was but a child, and as i had no brothers or sisters it rested upon me to have buddhist services performed on behalf of my parents. in order that this might come to pass i have saved the money you have given me, and spent as little upon myself as possible. now my parents' mortuary tablets are placed in the jorakuji temple, and, having given my money to the priests, the sacred rites have now been performed. i have fulfilled my wish, and, begging for your forgiveness, i will in future dress more becomingly."
before tama died she asked her mistress to keep the remaining money she had saved. shortly after her death a large fly entered kyubei's house. now at that time of the year, the period of the greatest cold, it was unusual for flies to appear, and the master of the house was considerably puzzled. he carefully put the insect outside the house; but it flew back immediately, and every time it was ejected it came back again. "this fly," said kyubei's wife, "may be tama." kyubei cut a small piece out of the insect's wings, and this time carried it some distance from his abode. but the next day it returned once more, and this time the master painted the fly's wings and body with rouge, and took it even further away from his dwelling. two[pg 284] days later the fly returned, and the nick in its wings and the rouge with which it was covered left no doubt in the minds of kyubei and his wife that this persistent insect was indeed tama.
"i believe," said kyubei's wife, "that tama has returned to us because she wants us to do something for her. i have the money she asked me to keep. let us give it to the priests in order that they may pray for her soul." when these words had been spoken the fly fell dead upon the floor.
kyubei and his wife placed the fly in a box, and with the girl's money they went to the priests. a sutra was recited over the body of the insect, and it was duly buried in the temple grounds.
sanemori and shiwan
sanemori, who was a great warrior, was on one occasion, while riding on a horse, engaged in fighting an enemy. during the conflict his horse slipped and rolled into a rice-field. as the result of this mishap his antagonist was able to slay him, and from that hour sanemori became a rice-devouring insect, known by the peasantry of izumo as sanemori-san. during certain summer nights the peasants light fires in their rice-fields in order to attract the insect, play upon flutes and beat gongs, crying: "o sanemori, augustly deign to come hither!" a religious rite is then performed, and a straw representation of a rider upon a horse is either burnt or thrown into water. it is believed that this ceremony will successfully free the fields from the rice-devouring insect.
the shiwan, a small yellow insect that feeds upon cucumbers, is said to have once been a physician. this physician, guilty of some intrigue, was forced to leave his home, but in attempting to make his escape his foot[pg 285] caught in the sinuous coils of a cucumber vine, and he was killed by his pursuers. his angry ghost became a shiwan, and from that day to this the insect feeds upon cucumbers.
fireflies
"for this willow-tree the season of budding would seem to have returned in the dark—look at the fireflies."
in ancient days firefly-hunting was one of the amusements of great nobles, but to-day it is the pastime of children only. these hunting parties, however, have lost none of their picturesqueness, and the flashing insect has been the theme of many an exquisite poem, such as: "ah, the cunning fireflies! being chased, they hide themselves in the moonlight!"
grown-up people, however, go out to see the fireflies with the same ardour with which they indulge in flower-viewing. to the minds of these great nature-lovers the fireflies resemble dazzling petals of some strange fire-flower or a host of wondering stars that has left the sky to wander upon the earth. during the summer thousands of people visit uji in order to see the hotaru-kassen, or firefly battle. from the river-bank dart myriads of these flashing insects, and in a moment they form a great silver-shining cloud. the cloud breaks and the flowing river, once dark as black velvet, becomes a winding stretch of gleaming jewels. no wonder the japanese poet cries: "do i see only fireflies drifting with the current? or is the night itself drifting, with its swarming of stars?"
there is a legend connected with this fascinating spectacle. it is believed that the minamoto-firefly and the taira-firefly are the ghosts of the old warriors of the minamoto and taira clans. on the night of the[pg 286] twentieth day of the fourth month they fight a great battle on the uji river. on that night all caged fireflies are set free in order that they may fight again the old clan battles of the twelfth century. the ghostly significance of fireflies is further strengthened by the fact that these insects are fond of swarming round willow-trees—the most eerie trees in japan. fireflies in ancient days were supposed to possess medicinal properties. firefly ointment was said to render all poisons harmless, and, moreover, it had the power to drive away evil spirits and to preserve a house from the attacks of robbers.
a strange dream
a young man of matsue was returning home from a wedding-party when he saw, just in front of his house, a firefly. he paused a moment, surprised to see such an insect on a cold winter's night with snow on the ground. while he stood and meditated the firefly flew toward him, and the young man struck at it with his stick, but the insect flew away and entered the garden adjoining his own.
the next day he called at his neighbour's house, and was about to relate the experience of the previous night when the eldest daughter of the family entered the room, and exclaimed: "i had no idea you were here, and yet a moment ago you were in my mind. last night i dreamt that i became a firefly. it was all very real and very beautiful, and while i was darting hither and thither i saw you, and flew toward you, intending to tell you that i had learnt to fly, but you thrust me aside with your stick, and the incident still frightens me."
the firefly battle.
the young man, having heard these words from the lips of his betrothed, held his peace.
[pg 287]
the vengeance of kanshiro[2]
in the village of funakami there lived a devout old farmer called kanshiro. every year the old man made various pilgrimages to certain shrines, where he prayed and asked the blessings of the deities. at last, however, he became so infirm that he realised that his earthly days were numbered, and that he would probably only have strength to pay one more visit to the great shrines at ise. when the people of the village heard this noble resolution they generously gave him a sum of money in order that the respected old farmer might present it to the sacred shrines.
kanshiro set off upon his pilgrimage carrying the money in a bag, which he hung round his neck. the weather was extremely hot, and the heat and fatigue of the journey made the old man so ill that he was forced to remain for a few days in the village of myojo. he went to a small inn and asked jimpachi, the innkeeper, to take care of his money, explaining that it was an offering to the gods at ise. jimpachi took the money, and assured the old man that he would take great care of it, and, moreover, that he himself would attend upon him.
on the sixth day the old man, though still far from well, paid his bill, took the bag from the innkeeper, and proceeded on his journey. as kanshiro observed many pilgrims in the vicinity he did not look into the bag, but carefully concealed it in the sack containing spare raiment and food.
when kanshiro at length rested under a pine-tree he took out the bag and looked inside. alas! the money had been stolen, and stones of the same weight inserted[pg 288] in its place. the old man hastily returned to the innkeeper and begged him to restore the money. jimpachi grew extremely angry, and gave him a severe beating.
the poor old man crawled away from the village, and three days later, with indomitable courage, he succeeded in reaching the sacred shrines at ise. he sold his property in order to refund the money his good neighbours had given him, and with what remained he continued his pilgrimage, till at last he was forced to beg for food.
three years later kanshiro went to the village of myoto, and found that the innkeeper who had treated him so badly was now comparatively well off, and lived in a large house. the old man went to him, and said: "you have stolen sacred money from me, and i have sold my little property in order that i might refund it to those who had given it to me. ever since that time i have been a beggar, but be assured vengeance shall fall upon you!"
jimpachi cursed the old man and told him that he had not stolen his money. during the heated dispute a watchman seized kanshiro, dragged him away from the house, and told him that he would be arrested if he dared to return. at the end of the village the old man died, and a kindly priest took his body to a temple, respectfully burnt it, and offered up many holy prayers for his good and loyal soul.
immediately after kanshiro's death jimpachi grew afraid of what he had done, and became so ill that he was forced to take to his bed. when he had lost all power of movement a great company of fireflies flew out of the farmer's tomb and surrounded jimpachi's mosquito-curtain, and tried to break it down. many of the villagers came to jimpachi's assistance and killed a number of fireflies, but the stream of shining insects that flew from kanshiro's tomb never lessened. hundreds[pg 289] were killed, but thousands came to take their place. the room was ablaze with firefly light, and the mosquito-curtain sank beneath their ever-increasing weight. at this remarkable sight some of the villagers murmured: "jimpachi stole the old man's money after all. this is the vengeance of kanshiro."
even while they spoke the curtain broke and the fireflies rushed into the eyes, ears, mouth, and nose of the terrified jimpachi. for twenty days he screamed aloud for mercy; but no mercy came. thicker and thicker grew the stream of flashing, angry insects, till at last they killed the wicked jimpachi, when from that hour they completely disappeared.
[1] translated by f. victor dickins.
[2] adapted from ancient tales and folk-lore of japan, by & gordon smith.
