The Ten Foot Square Hut and Tales of the Heike Page 7

  Then came seven astrologers to perform a thousand exorcisms, and among them was an old man named Kamon-no-kami Tokiharu. He was a man of small property and office, and as so many people came thronging there like the bamboo-shoots that stand thick together, yea even like rice sprouts, flax, bamboos and reeds, he cried out: "I am an official. Make way!" and pressing through the midst of the crowd, what a sight he presented! Having trodden off his right shoe, he was resting for a moment when his head-dress also got knocked off, and at such a time to see a dignified old man in ceremonial court costume, with his hair in disorder, pacing along, was more than the younger courtiers were able to endure, and they burst forth into uncontrollable mirth. For the astrologers say that their peculiar gait must be most punctiliously observed. A strange thing too was that he knew nothing about it all at the time, though afterwards when he came to think about it he remembered everything.

  NUE

  Now Gensammi Nyūdō Yorimasa was the fifth generation from Settsu-no-kami Raiko, the grandson of Mikawa-no-kami Yoritsuna and son of Hyogo-no-kami Nakamasa. At the time of the fight of Hōgen he was on the side of the Imperial Army, but received no reward: also in the rebellion of Heiji he forsook all his kinsmen and fought on the same side, but his recompense was small. For long he only held the title of Guard of the Palace, and had not the privilege of entry to Court, but after he was old he obtained the privilege by composing the following verse:

  No one looks my way

  As I stand a faithful guard

  At the Palace Gate.

  How am I to view the moon

  In the shadow of the trees?

  For this he was granted the lower grade of the Upper Fourth Rank, and so he remained for some time until, wishing to proceed to the Third Rank, he made another stanza, thus:

  So I go through life,

  Picking up acorns* that fall

  Underneath the oak.

  I have now but little hope

  Of a rise to higher things.

  Some time afterwards he retired from the world and was known as Gensammi Nyūdō Yorimasa (Minamoto Third Rank), being seventy-five the same year. Among the many deeds of renown that Yorimasa performed in the course of his life the most remarkable was in the Ninpei period when the Emperor Konoe-in was on the Throne. Every night the Emperor was frightened by something, and though he summoned the most celebrated of the priests and had them chant those Sutras most potent for exorcism it was all of no effect. The time that the Emperor was thus troubled was about the hour of the Ox (2 a.m.), when a black cloudy mass used to come up from the direction of the wood of Higashi Sanjo and hover over the Palace, and it always affrighted him. So a Council of Courtiers was held about it. Now in former days in the period of Kwanji, when Horikawa-in was on the Throne, this Emperor was terrified in the very same way, and Yoshiie Ason, who was Commander of the Guards at that time, took up his position on the veranda of the Shishinden, and at the usual time of the apparition twanged his bow-string three times and declaimed in a loud and terrible voice: "I am Minamoto Yoshiie formerly Mutsu-no-kami," so that the hair of those that heard it stood on end, whereat the distress of His Majesty was relieved. So according to this precedent Yorimasa was chosen from among the warriors of the Taira and Minamoto families. He was at this time only Hyoye-no-kami, and on being informed of it he said. "From former times samurai have been stationed at the Palace to drive away rebels and to smite those who disobey the Imperial Commands, but it is the first time that I have ever heard of their having apparitions to deal with." But as it was an Imperial Order he went. He took with him his most trusted retainer I-no-Hayata of Tōtōmi, who carried an arrow feathered with the underfeathers of an eagle's wing, while he himself, wearing a double kariginu, carried his lacquered bow and two barbed arrows and proceeded to the veranda of the Shishinden. The reason for his taking two arrows was that one Masayori-no-Kyo, who was at that time Sashoben, had suggested that he be chosen to deal with the monster, and so Yorimasa had determined that if he failed to hit the creature with the one arrow he would shoot the other straight at Masayori's neck. After a while, as has been described, at the time when the Emperor was always wont to be alarmed, a mass of black cloud came from the direction of the wood by Higashi Sanjo and floated over the top of the Palace. Yorimasa, looking up, saw a strange shape in the midst of the cloud and determining not to live if he missed, took an arrow, and earnestly repeating in his heart the invocation to the god of war "Namu Hachiman Dai-Bosatsu!" drew the bow mightily and let fly. The arrow flew straight to the mark and Yorimasa gave a loud shout of triumph as I-no-Hayata came running up, seized the thing as it fell and, pressing it down with might and main, pierced it through nine times with his sword. Then many others ran up with torches, and when they came to inspect it they found it was a most horrible monster with a monkey's head, the body of a badger, the tail of a snake and feet like a tiger, its voice being like a Nue bird. The Emperor, out of his great gratitude to Yorimasa, presented him with a famous sword called "Shishio" or Lion King. This was handed to the Sadaijin Yorinaga to give to Yorimasa, and as His Excellency proceeded to come half-way down the steps of the Palace, it being then the tenth day of the fourth month, the voice of a cuckoo that chanced to fly overhead echoed twice or thrice, whereupon the Sadaijin exclaimed:

  See the cuckoo, too,

  Wishes to make known your fame

  Far beyond the clouds.

  But Yorimasa, sticking out his right knee and spreading out his left sleeve, looked up at the crescent moon in the sky and replied:

  'Tis the moon you have to thank,

  I but let the arrow fly.

  Then he received the sword and retired.

  This Yorimasa, beside being a peerless warrior, was also a distinguished poet and much admired by his contemporaries. The Nue they put into a boat and set it adrift. In the period Oho also, in the reign of Nijo-in a monstrous bird called Nue was heard to cry in the Palace, so that the heart of the Emperor was troubled, and so as had been done before he summoned Yorimasa. It was the evening of the twentieth day of the fifth month. The Nue only flew once over the Palace and its voice was not heard a second time. It was so dark that nothing could be seen and therefore there was nowhere to aim, so Yorimasa took a great whirring arrow, and shot it over the roof of the Palace at the place where the cry had been heard. The Nue, alarmed at the sound of the arrow, sprang up into the sky, when Yorimasa, quickly seizing a smaller whirring arrow, let it fly. It struck and brought down the creature, whereupon all those in the Palace came rushing out shouting confusedly. On this occasion Yorimasa received a robe of honour from the Emperor. This time it was Oi-no-Mikado no Udaijin Kinyoshi who received it to present to Yorimasa. "In ancient China," said he in admiration, "Yang Yu shot a wild goose beyond the clouds, but now Yorimasa has shot a Nue in the rain:

  Even in the dark

  In the rainy days of spring

  You have hit the mark."

  "Nay, it was not such a feat,

  For, I think, 'twas twilight still."

  replied Yorimasa as he received the robe and retired. Then, having received the fief of Izu, he appointed his eldest son Nakatsuna as its Governor, and having attained the Third Rank was living at ease on his estates in Tamba and Wakasa, when he started this vain revolt and perished with the Prince and his sons and grandsons.

  MOON-VIEWING

  The ninth day of the sixth month was fixed for the commencement of the new Palace, the tenth day of the eighth month for the celebration of the raising of the roof-beams and the thirteenth day of the eleventh month for the Imperial Entry. The Ancient Capital was now falling into ruin, but the new one was full of life and bustle. Thus sadly did the summer pass and the autumn had already come on. When the autumn was almost half over, those who were in the new capital of Fukuhara went out to the places famous for moon-viewing. Some went along the shore from Suma to Akashi, recalling the ancient memories of the romance of Prince Genji, and some crossed over the strait to the Isle of Awaji to gaze at
the moon at Ejimaga-iso. Others made their way to Shiraura, Fuki-age, Waka-no-Ura, Sumiyoshi, Naniwa, Takasago, or Onoe and stayed to view the moon at dawn before returning. Those who had stayed behind in the Ancient Capital went to Hirosawa at Fushimi for moon-viewing.

  Now Tokudaiji-no-Sadaisho Sanesada, being greatly devoted to the moonlight scenery of the Ancient Capital, after the tenth day of the eighth month went up thither from Fukuhara. Ah! how changed did he find everything. Before the front gates of the few remaining houses the grass had grown thickly, and in the dew-laden courts was a tall undergrowth of mugwort and rushes, while the chirp of the insects shrilled everywhere, and the chrysanthemum and purple orchid grew wild as in the plains. Only the Omiya Palace at Konoe Kawara still recalled the grandeur of former days. The Sadaisho proceeded to this Palace with his retainers and knocked at the outer gate. From within the voice of a woman called reproachfully. "Who is it that brushes the dew from the weeds of such a neglected place?" "It is Sanesada who has come up from Fukuhara," was the reply. "Ah, in that case, since the great gate is locked, I pray you enter by the postern on the eastern side," she answered. So the Taisho entered by the eastern postern. Now the occupant of the Palace, the Senior Dowager Empress, Consort of Konoe Tenno, finding time hang heavy on her hands, had opened the lattice on the south side of her apartment and was solacing herself by playing on the Biwa, reviving the while her memories of former days, when unexpectedly the Sadaisho entered. His appearance greatly surprised the Empress, who laid aside her Biwa and exclaimed: "Ah! is it indeed reality or am I in a dream? But pray enter." In the volume of the Genji Monogatari called "Uji" it is written how the daughter of the Lay-devotee Prince, oppressed with melancholy at the passing of autumn, spent the night playing the Biwa to calm her troubled spirit, and becoming impatient at last for the moon of dawn to appear, her feelings overcame her and she beckoned to it with the plectrum of her Biwa. By this we can understand something of the Empress's feelings.

  Now in this Palace was a waiting damsel who went by the name of "Eve-awaiting Maid," and the reason of this nick-name was that once the Empress had asked which was the most affecting, the awaiting a lover in the evening or the parting from him in the morning, and the girl had replied with the verse:

  When at eve we wait

  And the lover does not come,

  Then the temple bell

  Sadder sounds than does the crow

  Of the cock that bids us part.

  Calling this lady, Sanesada-no-Kyo conversed with her about many things past and present, and then he made the following song in the Imayo style about the ruined state of the former capital:

  When we now view the Capital of yore,

  How is it wasted like a reed-grown plain!

  Through all its chambers pours the moon's pale light;

  The blasts of autumn pierce me to the bone.

  This strain he sang three times clearly, and the Empress and all her lady-attendants were so moved that they buried their faces in their sleeves and wept.

  Meanwhile the dawn broke and the Sadaisho took leave of them and returned to Fukuhara. On the way he called a certain Kur ando of his company and said to him: "I think that lady-in-waiting seemed very much pained at parting, I pray you go back and say something suitable to the occasion." So the Kurando hurried back again at his bidding, and improvising this stanza, recited it to her as though from his lord:

  Though you said 'tis nought—

  That cock-crow at early dawn

  Hastening your love—

  This time, so I like to think

  You look rather desolate.

  The lady at once replied in the following lines:

  Though the bell at eve,

  When we wait in vain for him,

  Is a painful sound,

  How I hate the cock-crow now

  Heralding the time to part!

  Then the Kurando hastened back again and related the whole affair to his lord, whereat the Sadaisho praised him saying that it was well said indeed; and ever after this Kurando was known as "Mono-ka-wano-kurando," after the first words of his poem.

  THE AUSTERITIES OF MONGAKU

  Now Minamoto Yoritomo had been spared and banished to Hiru-ga-kojima in Izu in the domain of Hōjō on the twentieth day of the third month of the first year of Eiryaku only through the urgent pleading of the late Ike-no-zenni, when his father Sama-no-kami Yoshitomo was executed in the twelfth month of the first year of Heiji for the rebellion that he made. He was at that time fourteen years of age, and having spent some twenty autumns in exile was now of mature years; and if one should wonder why he stirred up a revolt in this year, it was because of the exhortation of Mongaku Shonin of Takao.

  This Mongaku was formerly known as Endo Musha Morito and was the son of Watanabe Mochito, having been a retainer of Josei-mon-in, a consort of Toba-in, but at the age of nineteen, possessed by a desire to enter the Way of Buddha, he shaved his head and started to practise mortification of the flesh. With the intention of proving how much he could endure, he stripped himself naked and lay down on his back in a bamboo thicket in the depth of the mountains under the scorching sun during the hottest days of the sixth month, when there was no breath of wind, and the horse-flies and mosquitoes and wild bees and ants and every kind of poisonous insect came and settled on his body and bit and stung him, but in spite of this he did not move a muscle.

  Thus he remained for the space of seven days, but on the eighth day he arose and asked whether religious asceticism demanded as much as this or not. "If it were so severe" was the reply, "how could people survive it?" Thus reassured, he began his austere life by going to Kumano, intending to live in retirement at Nachi. Now at Nachi is a famous waterfall, and Mongaku determined to bathe in it as a religious exercise. It was past the tenth day of the twelfth month when he arrived there and the snow had fallen thickly; the river that ran through the valley was silent in its icy shroud; the freezing blasts blew fiercely from the mountain-tops and the waterfall was a mass of crystal icicles, while the twigs were everywhere hidden under their heavy coat of snow.

  Mongaku, invoking the magic power of Fudo Myō-ō, immersed himself up to the neck in the pool of the waterfall and remained thus two, three, then four days, but on the fifth, unable to endure any longer, losing his senses he was washed away by the mighty volume of the falling water, and carried some six or seven hundred yards downstream, his body dashing against the sharp-edged rocks as it rose and fell in the swirling current.

  Then suddenly there appeared a beautiful boy who seized his hand and drew him safely up on to the bank. The bystanders, seeing his dangerous plight, soon kindled a fire and warmed him so that he recovered consciousness, for it was not his fate to perish, but as soon as he again drew his breath and opened his eyes, he glared about him in great anger, crying out with a loud voice: "I am under a vow to stand under the waterfall for thrice seven days and repeat the magic invocation of Fudo three hundred thousand times, and to-day being only the fifth day, who has dared to pull me out?" On hearing these words the hair of their heads stood up and they could say nothing.

  Then he plunged again into the waterfall and stood as before for two days, and on the second day eight boys appeared and grasped both his hands to draw him from the water, but he resisted them strongly and would not move. On the third day he again became as one dead, whereupon, that the waterfall should not be polluted, two heavenly youths, with their hair bound up tightly, descended from above the fall, and rubbed the whole body of Mongaku from head to foot with their warm and perfumed hands, so that he breathed again as one in a dream, and asked who it might be that thus had compassion on him.

  "We are Kongara and Seitaka, the messengers of Fudo Myō-ō," replied the two youths, "and we have come in obedience to the command of the Myō-ō, 'Mongaku has made a sublime vow and is now under-going unparalleled austerites; go ye and succour him.'"

  Then Mongaku cried with a loud voice; "Where is the abode of the Myō-ō?" "His abode is in the Tosot
ten, the fourth Heaven of Desire," they replied as they ascended far aloft above the clouds. Mongaku clasped his hands and exclaimed fervently: "Now am I full of hope, for even Fudo Myō-ō knows of my austerities;" and he again took up his position in the waterfall. But from henceforth he was favoured by most gracious signs of divine assistance; the bitter wind no longer pierced his body, and the falling water felt warm and soothing, and so he completed the three weeks of his vow and afterwards spent a thousand days in retirement at Nachi.

  Then he started to travel round the whole country as a pilgrim, ascending Omine three times, Katsuragi twice, and then proceeding to Koya, Kogawa, Kinbu-sen, Hakusan, Tateyama, the peak of Fuji, Izu, Hakone, Togakushi in Shinano, and Haguro in Dewa, until at last, feeling a longing for his native province, he returned to the Capital, hardened like a well-tempered blade by his privations, and wise enough to pray down a flying bird from the sky.

  THE CONTRIBUTION ROLL

  Thereafter Mongaku retired to the mountain recesses of Takao to meditate. In this mountain was a temple called Shingoji, which Wake-no-Kiyomaro had built in the time of Shotoku Tenno, and which had not been repaired for a long time. In spring the mists filled it, and in autumn the fog was its only occupant; the doors had been blown down by the winds and lay rotting under the fallen leaves. The rain and dew had despoiled it of tiles, and the altar of Buddha stood bare to the sky. No priest abode there to read the Sutras, only the sun and moon shone betimes into it.