THE LEGENDS AND FOLKTALES : Japan Folktales

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The ogre of Rashomon

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<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif, "Times New Roman"; text-align: justify; text-indent: 15px;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><span>Long ago in Kyoto, the city's residents were deeply concerned by reports of a fearsome ogre said to haunt the Rashomon Gate at dusk and abduct anyone who passed by. The missing individuals were never found, leading to rumors that the ogre was a gruesome cannibal who not only killed the unfortunate victims but also consumed them. Consequently, the entire town and its surroundings were gripped by fear, and no one dared to venture near the Rashomon Gate after sunset.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">At this time, there lived in Kyoto a general named Raiko, who had made himself famous for his brave deeds. Some time before, he had made the country ring with his name, for he had attacked Oeyama, where a band of ogres lived with their chief, who drank the blood of human beings instead of wine. He had routed them all and cut off the chief monster's head.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">This brave warrior was always followed by a band of faithful knights. In this band, there were five knights of great valor. One evening, as the five knights sat at a feast, quaffing sake in their rice bowls and eating all kinds of fish—raw, stewed, and broiled—and toasting each other's healths and exploits, the first knight, Hōjō, said to the others:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"Have you all heard the rumor that every evening after sunset  comes an ogre to the Gate of Rashomon, and that he seizes all who pass by?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">The second knight, Watanabe, answered him, saying:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"Do not talk such nonsense! All the ogres were killed by our chief, Raiko, at Oeyama! It cannot be true, because even if any ogres escaped that great killing, they would not dare to show themselves in this city, for they know that our brave master would at once attack them if he knew that any were still alive!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"Then do you disbelieve what I say, and think that I am telling you a falsehood?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"No, I do not think that you are telling a lie," said Watanabe; "but you have heard some old woman's story which is not worth believing."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"Then the best plan is to prove what I say, by going there yourself and finding out for yourself whether it is true or not," said Hōjō.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">Watanabe, the second knight, could not bear the thought that his companion should believe he was afraid, so he answered quickly:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"Of course, I will go at once and find out for myself!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">So Watanabe at once got ready to go—he buckled on his long sword and put on a coat of armor, and tied on his large helmet. When he was ready to start, he said to the others:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"Give me something so that I can prove I have been there!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">Then one of the men got a roll of writing paper, his box of Indian ink and brushes, and the four comrades wrote their names on a piece of paper.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"I will take this," said Watanabe, "and put it on the Gate of Rashomon, so tomorrow morning will you all go and look at it? I may be able to catch an ogre or two by then!"  And he mounted his horse and rode off gallantly.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">It was a very dark night, and there was neither moon nor star to light Watanabe's way.</span><span style="font-size: 17px;">To make the darkness worse, a storm came on; the rain fell heavily, and the wind howled like wolves in the mountains. Any ordinary man would have trembled at the thought of going outdoors, but Watanabe was a brave  dauntless warrior, ss, and his honor and word were at stake, so he sped into the night, while his companions listened to the sound of his horse's hooves dying away in the distance, then shut the sliding shutters, and gathered around the charcoal fire, wondering what would happen—and whether their comrade would encounter one of those horrible oni.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">At last, Watanabe reached the Gate of Rashomon, but peer as he might through the darkness, he could see no sign of an ogre.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"It is just as I thought," said Watanabe to himself; "there are certainly no ogres here; it is only an old woman's story. I will stick this paper on the gate so that the others can see I have been here when they come tomorrow, and then I will take my way home and laugh at them all."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">He fastened the piece of paper, signed by all  of his four companions, on the gate, and then turned his horse's head homeward.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">As he did so, he became aware that someone was behind him, and at the same time, a voice called out to him to wait. Then his helmet was seized from behind. "Who are you?" said Watanabe fearlessly. He then put out his hand and groped around to find out who or what it was that held him by the helmet. As he did so, he touched something that felt like an arm—it was covered with hair and as big around as the trunk of a tree!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">Watanabe knew at once that this was the arm of an ogre, so he drew his sword and cut at it fiercely.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">There was a loud yell of pain, and then the ogre dashed in front of the warrior.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">Watanabe's eyes grew large with wonder, for he saw that the ogre was taller than the great gate; his eyes were flashing like mirrors in the sunlight, and his huge mouth was wide open, and as the monster breathed, flames of fire shot out of its mouth.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">The ogre thought to terrify his foe, but Watanabe never flinched. He attacked the ogre with all his strength, and thus they fought face to face for a long time. At last, the ogre, finding that he could neither frighten nor beat Watanabe, and that he might himself be beaten, took flight. But Watanabe, determined not to let the monster escape, spurred his horse and gave chase.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">But though the knight rode very fast, the ogre ran faster, and to his disappointment, he found himself unable to overtake the monster, who was gradually lost to sight.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">Watanabe returned to the gate where the fierce fight had taken place and dismounted. As he did so, he stumbled upon something lying on the ground.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">Stooping to pick it up, he found that it was one of the ogre's huge arms, which he must have slashed off in the fight. His joy was great at having secured such a prize, for this was the best of all proofs of his adventure with the ogre. So he took it up carefully and carried it home as a trophy of his victory.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">When he returned, he showed the arm to his comrades, who all called him the hero of their band and gave him a great feast. His wonderful deed was soon known throughout Kyoto, and people from far and near came to see the ogre's arm.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">Watanabe now began to grow uneasy about how he should keep the arm safe, for he knew that the ogre to whom it belonged was still alive. He felt sure that one day, as soon as the ogre recovered from his fright, he would come to try to get his arm back. Watanabe therefore had a box made of the strongest wood and banded with iron. In this he placed the arm, and then he sealed the heavy lid, refusing to open it for anyone. He kept the box in his own room and guarded it himself, never letting it out of his sight.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">Now one night he heard someone knocking at the porch, asking for admittance.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">When the servant went to the door to see who it was, there was only an old woman, very respectable in appearance. On being asked who she was and what  business was, ss, the old woman replied with a smile that she had been the master of the house's nurse when he was a little baby. If the master of the house were home, she begged to be allowed to see him.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">The servant left the old woman at the door and went to tell his master that his old nurse had come to see him. Watanabe thought it strange 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 arose for her in his heart. He ordered the servant to show her in.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">The old woman was ushered into the room, and after the customary bows and greetings, she said:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"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 everyone says, that you cut off one of the ogre's arms? If you did, your deed is highly praiseworthy!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"I was very disappointed," said Watanabe, "that I could not capture the monster, which was what I wished to do, instead of only cutting off an arm!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"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 comparable to your courage. Before I die, it is the great wish of my life to see this arm," she added pleadingly.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"No," said Watanabe, "I am sorry, but I cannot grant your request."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"But why?" asked the old woman.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"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 take his arm back. 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 anyone, whatever happens."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"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."</span><span style="font-size: 17px;">I have only just heard of your brave act, and not being able to wait until 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:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"Do you suspect me of being a spy sent by the ogre?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"No, of course I do not suspect you of being the ogre's spy, for you are my old nurse," answered Watanabe.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"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!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">Watanabe could not hold out in his refusal any longer, so he gave in at last, saying:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"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.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">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.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"What is it like? Let me have a good look," said the old nurse, with a joyful face.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">She came nearer and nearer, as if she were afraid, until she stood right against the box. Suddenly she plunged her hand into the box and seized the arm, crying with a fearful voice that made the room shake:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">"Oh, joy! I have got my arm back!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">And from an old woman, she was suddenly transformed into the towering figure of a frightful ogre!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">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 it this time. He seized his sword, drew it from its sheath in a flash, and tried to cut the ogre down.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">So quick was Watanabe that the creature narrowly escaped. But the ogre sprang to the ceiling, and bursting through the roof, disappeared into the mist and clouds.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 17px;">In this way, the ogre escaped with its arm. The knight gnashed his teeth in disappointment, but that was all he could do. He waited patiently 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, and Watanabe's of Watanabe have never been forgotten.</span><br /><br /></div>
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The ogre of Rashomon

Long ago in Kyoto, the city's residents were deeply concerned by reports of a fearsome ogre said to haunt the Rashomon Gate at dus...

2:31:00 am

The Tongue-Cut Sparrow

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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Once upon a time there lived an old man and
an old woman. The old man, who had a kind heart, kept a young sparrow, which he
tenderly nurtured. But the dame was a cross-grained old thing; and one day,
when the sparrow had pecked at some paste with which she was going to starch
her linen, she flew into a great rage, and cut the sparrow's tongue and let it
loose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">When the old man came home from the hills
and found that the bird had flown, he asked what had become of it; so the old
woman answered that she had cut its tongue and let it go, because it had stolen
her starching-paste. Now the old man, hearing this cruel tale, was sorely
grieved, and thought to himself: "Alas! Where can my bird be gone? Poor
thing! Poor little tongue-cut sparrow! Where is your home now?" and he
wandered far and wide, seeking for his pet, and crying: "Mr. Sparrow! Mr.
Sparrow! Where are you living?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">One day, at the foot of a certain mountain,
the old man fell in with the lost bird; and when they had congratulated one
another on their mutual safety, the sparrow led the old man to his home, and,
having introduced him to his wife and chicks, set before him all sorts of
dainties, and entertained him hospitably.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">"Please partake of our humble
fare," said the sparrow. Poor as it is, you are very welcome."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">"What a polite sparrow!" answered
the old man, who remained for a long time as the sparrow's guest, and was daily
feasted right royally. At last the old man said that he must take his leave and
return home; and the bird, offering him two wicker baskets, begged him to carry
them with him as a parting present. One of the baskets was heavy, and the other
was light; so the old man, saying that as he was feeble and stricken in years
he would only accept the light one, shouldered it, and trudged off home,
leaving the sparrow family disconsolate at parting from him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">When the old man got home, the dame grew
very angry, and began to scold him saying: "Well, and pray where have you
been this many a day? A pretty thing, indeed, to be gadding about at your time
of life!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">"Oh!" replied he, "I have
been on a visit to the sparrows; and when I came away, they gave me this wicker
basket as a parting gift." Then they opened the basket to see what was
inside, and, lo and behold, it was full of gold and silver and precious things.
When the old woman, who was as greedy as she was cross, saw all the riches
displayed before her, she changed her scolding strain, and could not contain
herself for joy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">"I'll go and call upon the sparrows,
too," said she, "and get a pretty present." So she asked the old
man the way to the sparrows' house, and set forth on her journey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Following his direction, she at last met
the tongue-cut sparrow, and exclaimed: "Well met! Well met, Mr. Sparrow! I
have been looking forward to the pleasure of seeing you." So she tried to
flatter and cajole the sparrow by soft speeches.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The bird could not but invite the dame to
its home; but it took no pains to feast her, and said nothing about a parting
gift. She, however, was not to be put off; so she asked for something to carry
away with her in remembrance of her visit. The sparrow accordingly produced two
baskets, as before, and the greedy old woman, choosing the heavier of the two,
carried it off with her. But when she opened the basket to see what was inside,
all sorts of hobgoblins and elves sprang out of it, and began to torment her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">But the old man adopted a son, and his
family grew rich and prosperous. What a happy old man!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br /></div>

The Tongue-Cut Sparrow

Once upon a time there lived an old man and an old woman. The old man, who had a kind heart, kept a young sparrow, which he tenderly nu...

10:00:00 pm

The Mirror of Matsuyama

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<span class="caption-text-content" id="automationImageDescription" style="background: 0px 0px rgb(247 , 247 , 248); box-sizing: border-box; color: #323248; display: inline-block; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 17px; margin-top: 8px; outline: 0px; padding-right: 20px; position: relative;"><a class="preview-img comp-img-cap img-description" data-content="The Mirror of Matsuyama, from Wonder Tales of Old Japan by Alan Leslie Whitehorn, Published 1911 (Japanese folk tale). ." href="https://c7.alamy.com/comp/ERH372/the-mirror-of-matsuyama-from-wonder-tales-of-old-japan-by-alan-leslie-ERH372.jpg" itemprop="description" style="background: 0px 0px rgb(247, 247, 248); box-sizing: border-box; color: #323248; display: inline-block; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 17px; margin-top: 8px; outline: 0px; padding-right: 20px; position: relative;">The Mirror of Matsuyama, from Wonder Tales of Old Japan by Alan Leslie Whitehorn, Published 1911 (Japanese folk tale). .</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">In ancient days there lived in a remote
part of Japan a man and his wife, and they were blessed with a little girl, who
was the pet and idol of her parents. On one occasion the man was called away on
business in distant Kyoto. Before he went he told his daughter that if she were
good and dutiful to her mother he would bring her back a present she would
prize very highly. Then the good man took his departure, mother and daughter
watching him go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">At last he returned to his home, and after
his wife and child had taken off his large hat and sandals he sat down upon the
white mats and opened a bamboo basket, watching the eager gaze of his little
child. He took out a wonderful doll and a lacquer box of cakes and put them
into her outstretched hands. Once more he dived into his basket, and presented
his wife with a metal mirror. Its convex surface shone brightly, while upon its
back there was a design of pine trees and storks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">The good man's wife had never seen a mirror
before, and on gazing into it she was under the impression that another woman
looked out upon her as she gazed with growing wonder. Her husband explained the
mystery and bade her take great care of the mirror.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Not long after this happy homecoming and
distribution of presents the woman became very ill. Just before she died she
called to her little daughter, and said: "Dear child, when I am dead take
every care of your father. You will miss me when I have left you. But take this
mirror, and when you feel most lonely look into it and you will always see
me." Having said these words she passed away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">In due time the man married again, and his
wife was not at all kind to her stepdaughter. But the little one, remembering
her mother's words, would retire to a corner and eagerly look into the mirror,
where it seemed to her that she saw her dear mother's face, not drawn in pain
as she had seen it on her deathbed, but young and beautiful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">One day this child's stepmother chanced to
see her crouching in a corner over an object she could not quite see, murmuring
to herself. This ignorant woman, who detested the child and believed that her
stepdaughter detested her in return, fancied that this little one was
performing some strange magical art--perhaps making an image and sticking pins
into it. Full of these notions, the stepmother went to her husband and told him
that his wicked child was doing her best to kill her by witchcraft.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">When the master of the house had listened
to this extraordinary recital he went straight to his daughter's room. He took
her by surprise, and immediately the girl saw him she slipped the mirror into
her sleeve. For the first time her doting father grew angry, and he feared that
there was, after all, truth in what his wife had told him, and he repeated her
tale forthwith.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">When his daughter had heard this unjust
accusation she was amazed at her father's words, and she told him that she
loved him far too well ever to attempt or wish to kill his wife, who she knew
was dear to him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"What have you hidden in your
sleeve?" said her father, only half convinced and still much puzzled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"The mirror you gave my mother, and
which she on her deathbed gave to me. Every time I look into its shining
surface I see the face of my dear mother, young and beautiful. When my heart
aches--and oh! it has ached so much lately--I take out the mirror, and mother's
face, with sweet, kind smile, brings me peace, and helps me to bear hard words
and cross looks."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Then the man understood and loved his child
the more for her filial piety. Even the girl's stepmother, when she knew what
had really taken place, was ashamed and asked forgiveness. And this child, who
believed she had seen her mother's face in the mirror, forgave, and trouble
forever departed from the home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br /></div>

The Mirror of Matsuyama

The Mirror of Matsuyama, from Wonder Tales of Old Japan by Alan Leslie Whitehorn, Published 1911 (Japanese folk tale). . In ancient da...

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THE LEGENDS AND FOLKTALES

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The Tongue-Cut Sparrow

The Mirror of Matsuyama

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