How to Fool a Cat

by How to Fool a Cat- Japanese Folktales for Children (retail) (epub)

  After he had done this, young people came running back from the farm field. They said, “Oh, good heavens! We are saved! Today we left our grandma here all alone. We thought everything must have gotten soaked. But you saved us! Thank you, thank you. Without you, our crops would have been ruined. Please stay at our house tonight.”

  Zuiten-san thought to himself, “I see. This was what the first token meant.” He thanked the priest in his heart and stayed there for the night.

  Next morning, the farmer gave him two rice balls for lunch. Zuiten-san wrapped them in a carrying cloth, tied them on his waist and started his journey again.

  The sun went up high in the middle of the sky.

  “It’s almost noon time. I’ll find some nice shade and eat these rice balls,” he thought. He sat under a big tree and was about to eat his rice balls when he remembered his master’s second token.

  “Small tree is better than big tree. Oh, I see. I will sit under the smaller tree,” he said and moved under a smaller tree.

  He started to eat, watching the storm clouds that again were approaching the valley. Then suddenly there came a bright flash of lightning. It made a rumbling noise and struck the big tree. That tree was split in two and burned up.

  “I’m glad I wasn’t sitting under that big tree! Small tree is better than big tree. Thank you, my master,” Zuiten-san thanked the priest. He finished his lunch and started again.

  “I stayed at the farmer’s house last night. But where shall I stay tonight?” he wondered. Then he found an old abandoned temple. “I see nobody here. I’ll stay here tonight. Please allow me to stay here for one night,” he said politely to nobody. He went into the temple’s main hall and lay down.

  He was fast asleep when, around midnight, he heard something from above the ceiling.

  “Tonight we have a delicious-looking guest. Let’s have a feast.”

  Zuiten-san thought he heard that.

  “Was I dreaming? But I feel something horrible is coming here,” he thought, and then he remembered his master’s third token. “Smaller room is better than the big one. Oh! I shouldn’t sleep in this big hall. I’ll move to the smaller room,” he said and moved to the side room next to the main hall.

  Soon many kinds of Things came to the main hall from nowhere.

  “Oh, where did he go? He was here. Where did he go? He was here a minute ago,” they said and went round and round the main hall.

  Zuiten-san thought, “Smaller room is indeed better than the big one. Isn’t there an even smaller room?” He found a still smaller storage room next to the side room. He moved there.

  Those horrible Things looked and looked in the main hall and then said, “He is not in this hall. Let’s search the side room.” Those scary Things approached it.

  Zuiten-san thought again, “Smaller room is better than a big one.”

  Next to the storage room, he found a teeny tiny room which was like a closet. When he moved into that closet-size room, the monsters came into the storage room he had just left. But while they were looking for Zuiten-san, the sky brightened outside. They gave up and went away.

  “Indeed! Smaller room is better than the big one. My master, thank you so much,” Zuiten-san thanked the priest.

  This apprentice learned a great deal among the people in the village. He became a wonderful priest.

  This is the story of the young Zuiten-san.

  Oshimai

  COMMENT FROM FUJITA-SAN: In the old days, while peeling persimmons or sewing together, women often talked too much and did not concentrate on their work. Then a senior woman would say, “Use your hands, not your mouth!” When I do some hand work, I talk too much to get the work done. So this old saying makes me feel embarrassed. When I was small, I was often scolded quietly by using those old sayings.

  In this story, mysterious sayings like “small tree is better than big tree” and “smaller room is better than the big one” make it intriguing.

  Camphor Tree

  Once upon a time, there was a young apprentice monk who was traveling alone. When he reached a village, it was already dark. So he thought, “I need to find some house to stay in tonight.”

  He went to the biggest house in the village. “Would you let me stay here tonight?” he asked.

  “Tonight, we are having a gathering. A lot of people are coming, so we can’t have you here,” they replied.

  So he went to the next house and asked, “Would you let me stay here tonight?”

  “Well, we have a sick one in the family. We can’t have you.”

  So he couldn’t stay there, either. But they added, “You can’t stay here, but there is a temple at the end of this village, and maybe you can stay there tonight. Nobody lives there. Some people say they hear some strange noise coming from it at midnight. But it probably isn’t a ghost—I have never heard that somebody was murdered there. So it wouldn’t be so scary. I don’t think somebody will kill you. Why don’t you go there and stay?”

  The apprentice thought, “If nobody will kill me, a little strange noise at midnight won’t bother me so much. And if it becomes really dangerous, all I have to do is repeat chants, Nanmandabu, Nanmandabu, Nanmandabu, and the Buddha’s power will overcome monsters.”

  He went into the temple. Nobody was living there, but it was quite clean. It was very well built, too. He supposed, “This temple must have been built by wealthy people.”

  The main inner temple was too large to sleep in. Next to it was a side room with a sunken hearth. He sat there for a while. Then, the air in the room became somewhat warm and he felt uneasy.

  “It might be better to hide and sleep in the storage room.”

  He hid there, and soon he was drowsing.

  Suddenly, a rattling noise came from the main temple. He could hear somebody come to the side room and sit at the hearth. He peeked through, and what he saw was two big monsters. Each had only one eye, one of gold, the other of silver. They sat by the hearth and made a fire. Then, warming their hands, they called in a loud voice, “Kusunoki, Kusunoki, bring us a wire grill and some mochi.”

  From the main temple, a little boy came running. “Yes, what did you say, sir?”

  “We told you to bring a wire grill and some mochi.”

  “Yes, right away,” said the boy.

  He brought them to the monsters. The monsters, one with a gold eye and one with a silver eye, grilled mochi and ate them. And when the morning light came, they went back to the main temple.

  “So that’s what the strange noises are,” said the apprentice, who had watched the whole scene from the storage room.

  The next night, before the monsters came out, the apprentice sat by the hearth and called, “Kusunoki, Kusunoki.”

  “Yes,” said the little boy as he came running.

  “Who are you? And who are those monsters?” asked the apprentice.

  The little boy replied, “I am a camphor tree. The monsters with a gold eye and a silver eye are a gold jar and a silver jar hidden under the statue in the main hall of the temple. The gold jar is filled with gold coins. The silver jar is filled with silver coins. They are forgotten and nobody uses them. Sometimes, they turn into monsters and come out of those small jars to breathe.

  “I am just a little camphor tree, growing under the base stone of the temple. I wanted to grow. I wanted to grow tall. But I couldn’t because the base stone was on top of me. Many years have passed. I really wished to be free to grow. So I asked the monsters with a gold eye and a silver eye to help me, and they promised me I could grow if I worked as their servant for ten years. For over nine years, I kept my growth energy inside me and served the monsters. It will be ten years soon. Then, I will become a big, big Kusunoki. I am looking forward to that day.”

  The apprentice said, “I see, I see. But you don’t have to wait any longer. I will make you a big tree tomorrow morning.”

  The next morning, the apprentice took down the statue in the main hall of the temple. He pulled a board off th
e base and looked in. There he found a gold jar and a silver jar. Each jar had a lot of coins.

  Next, he pulled off the floor board. He pulled off the joist and then, the pillar. By the base stone, he found a camphor sprout as small as this.

  He moved the stone. Suddenly, the sprout started to grow and grow, and it became a very tall tree. Its branches stretched out, full of leaves.

  That night, the apprentice slept in the storage room again.

  The little boy appeared in his dream and said, “Thank you very much. Thanks to you, I am now a big Kusunoki. Kusunoki means “medicine tree.” I will teach you how to make useful medicine. I hope you can make some money with it.” Then he disappeared.

  The apprentice repaired the temple with the money in the gold and silver jars. He made sure nothing stood in the way of the camphor tree.

  And from that tree, he made medicine as Kusunoki had taught him. It is said that he made a fortune with it.

  Oshimai.

  COMMENT FROM FUJITA-SAN: Kusu no ki (medicine tree) is the Japanese name for the camphor tree. Among all the plants that grow in Japan, a camphor tree is said to grow tallest. It must have been very hard for that Kusunoki to be held down by the foundation stone.

  The Kusunoki in this story burst into a big tree with the energy it saved inside. But usually, a camphor tree grows slowly and steadily, spreading its branches little by little. So, “Kusunoki-bugen (camphor-tree millionaire)” refers to someone who made his fortune steadily. The opposite is “Umenoki-bugen (plum-tree millionaire)” because a plum tree grows and bears fruits fast but it doesn’t grow so tall.

  There are many stories saying that money hidden in an old temple or a deserted house becomes monsters. Some, like monsters in this story, are visible. Some are invisible as in the story CARRY ME ON YOUR BACK!. They let people know that they are there just by their spooky voices.

  Money should be spent. It must be painful for money to be hidden and forgotten. It is waiting for a brave man who can make good use of it.

  Sentoku

  Once upon a time, there was a traveling monk. As he walked along a mountain path, his feet stirred up the autumn leaves that were falling from the trees. In the fallen leaves, he found a drawstring bag. It was heavy with Oban and Koban (old Japanese coins).

  “Oh, whose is this?”

  He opened the bag. Something was written inside the bag. It said, “Sentoku’s money.”

  “I see. This is the money of a man named Sentoku. He might come back, looking for it.”

  Then, he heard somebody coming, making the fallen leaves rustle as he walked. The monk put down the bag and covered it with the fallen leaves. He hid behind a tree and watched.

  A Jisama with an empty basket appeared. He raked the fallen leaves and put them in his basket. Along with the leaves, the bag went into the basket. But Jisama didn’t notice it, and he walked away.

  “Well . . . Can he be Sentoku?” Wondering, the monk followed the Jisama.

  Jisama came to a house. “I’m home.” He put down his basket and turned around. He saw the monk. “Oh, are you a traveling monk? It’s getting dark. If you’d like, you could stay with us tonight.”

  The monk was curious what would become of the bag. So he answered, “Thank you. I would like to stay here tonight.”

  In that house, there were Jisama, Basama and a young daughter-in-law who had a very big tummy. They offered him supper. As they ate, they explained to the monk, “Our son, that is her husband, is on a short trip. We were hoping he would be back today. He hasn’t come back yet, but their baby might be born any time now. It might be tonight or tomorrow. I’m afraid we might be noisy tonight. But I hope you can sleep well in the next room.”

  After dinner, they prepared a futon for the monk in the next room. As he was very tired from walking, he fell fast asleep and slept all night.

  The next morning, Jisama said, “I’m sorry about last night. Our baby was born, and we were very busy boiling water, and going in and out. I hope we weren’t too noisy.”

  The monk hadn’t heard anything. He said, “Oh, the baby came last night! I didn’t notice. But may I see the baby?”

  It was a baby boy. “Oh my, what a cute boy!”

  Jisama said, “Our son is not back, so we can’t name the baby yet. But we are thinking we want to name him Sentoku because Basama’s name is O-sen and I am Toku-zo.”

  The monk then realized, “I see! Sentoku is the name of this baby.”

  So he explained to them, “I didn’t tell you this last night. In the fallen leaves you brought home yesterday, there is a money bag, which has the name Sentoku inside. I think it is the money god intends for your baby. So, please go and see.”

  They turned the basket upside down and found the money bag. But Jisama said, “You found it first. It’s yours.” He handed the bag to the monk.

  But the monk said, “No, it says ‘Sentoku’s money.’ It’s yours.”

  “Well, we haven’t decided his name yet. This money is yours.”

  They argued for a while and finally, the monk handed the bag to Jisama and said, “I really don’t need money.”

  He was about to leave. Basama made two big rice balls. “Please take these rice balls with you.”

  Basama handed them to the monk. But to tell the truth, she had put the money in one of the big rice balls. The monk hung those rice balls in a carrying cloth at his side and started off.

  When he came to the top of the mountain, he saw a young man coming up from the other side. That man looked very hungry and tired. The monk spoke to him, “Excuse me. You look like you are hungry.”

  The man answered, “Well, I’m almost home, and my wife is having a baby at any time. I want to get home as soon as possible. So, I kept walking without stopping at an inn last night. Now, I’m very hungry.”

  “Here, you can eat this rice ball on the way.” The monk handed him one of his rice balls.

  The man kept walking, eating the rice ball. He found money inside the rice ball.

  When he got home, he said to Jisama, “On my way home, I was very hungry. A monk came by and gave me one of his rice balls. And money came out of the rice ball.”

  Jisama heard it and realized what had happened. He said, “If this money is meant for our new-born baby Sentoku so much, we should accept it gratefully.”

  And they used the money wisely for the new-born Sentoku.

  Oshimai

  The Boy Who Drew Cats

  INSIGHT: This Fukushima version is different from what we have seen in picture books.

  Once upon a time, there was a temple. It was such a big temple that there were many apprentices who lived there and learned Buddha’s teaching. Among those apprentices, there was one apprentice who liked drawing more than studying Buddhism.

  When the master told him to sweep the garden, he drew on the ground with a stick, holding his bamboo broom in the other hand. Though he liked to draw pictures of anything, he liked drawing cats the best. A cat lying on a top of a wall with its tail hanging down. A cat chasing a butterfly. Soon the big garden was filled with many drawings of cats.

  In those days, paper was very precious and was not available very much. So this apprentice loved to draw on the ground. And when the master gave him that precious paper to copy the scriptures, he would copy perhaps the first sentence or so, and then start to draw cats on the paper. On every paper the master gave him, he ended up drawing cats.

  Finally, the priest got angry and said, “You’ll never learn Buddhism. Get out of here!”

  The apprentice thought that the master was right. It was his fault. So, he collected all the precious bits of paper on which he had drawn cats and said, “Thank you for everything. Goodbye.”

  He walked and walked, and the sun went down.

  “I would like to sleep somewhere under a roof. Is there some place I could stay tonight?”

  He found an old temple.

  “I’ll go and ask them if I can stay there tonight,” he thought and
went in. But there was nobody. He went out and asked the villagers. “Can I stay in that temple tonight?”

  People in the village replied, “Yes, we don’t care if you stay there. But we think some monster lives in that temple. We had a priest there but he disappeared; perhaps he was eaten by that monster. You may sleep there but you had better be careful.”

  He thought, “Even if there is a monster there, it’s better than sleeping outside.”

  He went in the temple. He lay down in the middle of the main hall. He put his drawings of cats right beside him and slept.

  Midnight passed. It was around two o’clock. A big noise came from the ceiling. The papers beside him made some noise, too. But the apprentice had walked all day and was very tired. He thought he had heard some sounds and wondered what they were, but kept on sleeping.

  In the morning the villagers came, worrying about him. They knocked and said, “Apprentice, apprentice! Are you all right?”

  They opened the door and went into the main hall. They found a still-sleepy apprentice in the middle of the main hall. Scattered all around him were the papers with cat drawings.

  The villagers looked at the drawings.

  The cat lying on top of a wall had his tail bitten, bleeding. The cat chasing a butterfly had his chest bitten and bleeding. Some had lost their ears. Some had lost their feet. All the cats in the pictures were bloody.

  “What is this all about? Apprentice, apprentice, what happened last night?” they asked.

  The apprentice didn’t know what had happened. But he said, “I think I heard something in the ceiling.”

  So they all went up to the ceiling. They found a huge rat there, bitten and dead.

  “This rat must be the monster which ate our priest. The cats of this apprentice’s drawings seem to have killed the monster,” they thought.

  They gathered all the drawings of bleeding cats, and burned them in a funeral pyre. The apprentice chanted a sutra, “Namu amida butsu, Namu amida butsu” and he sent the spirits of the painted cats to heaven.