But three days later, the people heard some new news reached the people's ears, that erased their pleasure entirely and turned their hearts cold.
"The master' been captured and taken to the magistrate's!” word buzzed around town. It was true, Kinehmon had been arrested and taken to the magistrate's mansion for interrogation and to be charged. The court decided he was guilty and decided his penalty would be crucifixion.
Oh, but my story has gotten very long, hasn't it? It must be very hard for elementary school students like you to sit still for so long. Why don't we rest for a bit?
Hmm? What's that? You've got some questions? Well, go ahead then. Don't be shy. Shout them out.
"Where was Kinehmon crucified?"
"What do you know about the crucifixion?"
"What happened to the people from Kinehmon's village?"
Good, good. Those are good questions. You're smart, brave children, aren't you? Turn around and look behind you. There's a valley running through there, isn't there? Long ago, that valley used to meander just a little more than it does today. That's where Kinehmon and the others were crucified. Right there on the bank. Seven people in all. Kinehmon in the middle, with three men on each side of him. Their hands and feet were tied to log crosses and they were hoisted up in the sun to die. A big fence made from bamboo was put up in front of them to keep the villagers back, and you could hear them praying behind it.
I remember that the sun was sinking down in the West and shining directly on the faces of the seven. Kinehmon's eyes were glaring down at the magistrate's servant.
"Nanmanda! Nanmanda!" The prayers from the village people were getting so loud, the bamboo fence began to tremble and shake, crossing over the cracked fields and spreading over the fields.
Just as the magistrate's servant reached out with his spear to stab the seven men in the neck and make sure they were dead, the sky suddenly clouded over and the pealed with thunder. Huge raindrops began to fall and a fierce storm beat down upon them. But no one moved. Drenched to the skin, the village people put their hands together and prayed for the souls of the seven people
who were killed for trying to save their village.
After that, news of the poor judgement was spread by the people who weren't killed. This place isn't called Kitta village anymore, but everyone who lives here knows the story. I want even elementary school students like you to remember what happened that day. You have such a peaceful, happy life today, you probably don't think about what it could be like if it wasn't like that.
Finally, I want to tell you a little about my own story It's said that I got my name of "The Tree With No Name" because I started to bud just after Kinehmon and the others died, but I had actually already started to bud even before that next to the crucifixion stand. So I saw the whole thing. It's probably just that I was still so small I was so hard to see.
By the time the villagers noticed me, they thought it was strange that a tree like me would be growing so close to where Kinehmon and the others died. They decided that their souls must have been reborn in me and transplanted me here. It's been almost three hundred years now, and I've become very old thanks to the good care they've taken care of me. I'm very grateful.
I'm so old, in fact, I'm one of the official trees designated by Gifu Prefecture to commemorate nature. I still plan on living a long, long time. That way, Kinehmon's story will never die. There, that's it. That's my story for today. You really listened well. Be careful in the car on the way home.
Good-bye.
The Love of a Silver Fox: Folk Tales from Seki CIty Page 10