by Royall Tyler
“The power of the King of Fire and Thunder is equal to my own, with all my followers. Sometimes he makes mountains crumble and shakes the earth, or destroys fortresses and wreaks havoc far and wide. Sometimes he makes storm winds blow and sends down torrential rains which cause damage and casualties. Sometimes he creates epidemics and diseases which kill people before their time, or foments treason and rebellion. But the god Hachiman and I keep him in check, so that at least he can’t do exactly as he pleases.”
When Zaō Gongen had finished, he told me how to get back again, and I returned to my cave. Then I revived. It was four in the mornng on the thirteenth day of the eighth moon of 941. Thirteen days had passed since I entered the gates of death.
I must add, too, that in the vision I had while I was within those gates, Zaō Gongen showed me hell. I came there to an iron cave with a shack woven of grasses inside it. The four men in the shack looked like ashes and embers. One had on a robe that barely covered his shoulders and the other three were naked. They were squatting on glowing coals.
A hell-fiend told me that the one with the robe on was Emperor Daigo, the sovereign of my own land, and that the others were the emperor’s ministers. When the emperor saw me, he beckoned to me.
“I am Emperor Daigo of Japan,” he said. “I suffer in this iron cave because Daijō Tenjin in his wrath burns temples and hurts sentient beings, and because the retribution for all his crimes falls on me; for I myself am the source of his rage. Daijō Tenjin, meanwhile, has fortunate karma which has made him a god. Yes, there are five major offenses my father and I committed toward him, and countless lesser ones. But above all, I am the one who, by sending him unjustly into exile, aroused the wrath he now visits on the whole land. That is why my agony is endless. O pain! O torment! Take my words back to Japan, tell the emperor what I am suffering, get him to help me! Have the regent and the ministers order purifications on my behalf, have them erect ten thousand holy images for me!”
That is the end of the Venerable Nichizō’s account. Many other wonders are attributed to him. For example, he once dug in the earth and found a vajra-handled bell which he recognized as one he himself had owned in a previous life. And once he prayed at the shrine of the god of Matsunoo to know which Buddha the god came from. There was a violent thunderstorm and darkness fell. Then a voice from inside the sanctuary said, “The Buddha Bibashi.” The awed Nichizō went forward and came before an ancient man who had the face of a child.
When Nichizō died he left no body behind.
102.
THE GOLD OF GOLDEN PEAK
A man whose trade was beating gold into foil lived on Seventh Avenue in Kyoto. One day he set off on pilgrimage to Golden Peak: the mountain where Miroku, the Future Buddha, is said to have stored all the gold that will make the world shine again when he comes.
At a place on the mountain called Oreslide, he spotted what looked like a nugget and cheerfully hid it under his coat. Back at home he melted it down, and since it was real gold it glittered and gleamed. He was amazed. As far as he knew, there should have been thunder, or an earthquake, or at least a cloudburst when he took the gold, but nothing had happened. “Well,” he thought, “I’ll use it myself.”
The gold weighed nearly two pounds, and the craftsman beat it into seven or eight thousand sheets of foil. They made a thick roll. He was looking for a buyer to take the whole lot when he heard that an officer of the Imperial Police was planning to donate a new buddha to Tōji, and would probably want a lot of gold foil for the statue. So off he went with his gold to the gentleman’s house.
The gentleman wanted to know how much foil his visitor had. “Seven or eight thousand sheets,” the craftsman replied.
“Are they with you?”
“Yes, sir.”
The sheets were perfect and their color was beautiful. But each one, when unrolled, turned out to have “Golden Peak” on it in tiny characters.
“What does this mark mean?” the gentleman asked.
“There’s no mark on them, sir. How could there be?”
“But there is. Look here!”
Indeed there was. The craftsman was speechless.
“Something’s not right,” said the gentleman. He had an underling carry the gold while he marched the craftsman off to the chief of police. The chief had the craftsman taken out to the riverbank and put to the question.
They tied him to a post and whipped him till his back was as red and wet as newly washed red silk, then threw him in prison. In ten days he was dead. The gold, they say, was returned to Golden Peak and put back where it had come from. No one ever thought of making off with it again.
103.
THE THUNDER TURTLE
In the spring of 930, the monk Jōsū was in his room at Tōji, reading a sutra, when a large turtle came in. Jōsū thought this odd, but was so absorbed that he hardly gave the turtle a second glance. Suddenly there was a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder, and the turtle rose up into the sky.
The next day the God of Fire and Thunder appeared to Jōsū. “I wanted to talk to you yesterday,” he said, “but you wouldn’t even look at me! I was quite annoyed.”
“All I saw yesterday was a big turtle,” answered Jōsū. “I had no idea the turtle was a god. I admit, though, that I was surprised when it rose into the sky.”
“I’m suffering for my evil attitude in the past,” the god said. “Now look at my real form!”
He showed himself as he really was. The upper part of his body precisely resembled the thunder gods you see in paintings, but from the waist down he was a salmon.
“Below the waist I always feel as though I’m burning,” said the god. And he added, “In the sixth moon I think I’ll go to the palace.” Then he disappeared.
Lightning did strike the palace in the sixth moon of 930 and killed several gentlemen.
104.
THE CATCH
A poor man from Kōga county in Ōmi province had no livelihood at all, but his wife managed to make a living by hiring herself out as a weaver. In time, having finally managed to weave a bolt of cloth for herself, she told her husband to take it to Yabase harbor on Lake Biwa and trade it there for fish. In their own village he would be able to exchange the fish for seed rice. “That way,” she said, “we can cultivate a little land this year.”
The man took the cloth to Yabase and asked the fishermen to catch him some fish, but all they got was one big turtle. They were going to kill it, but the man was sorry for it and asked to buy it instead of the fish he had ordered. The fishermen gladly accepted the bargain.
“Turtles live a long time,” said the man to the turtle, “and like all living things, they certainly value their lives. I know I’m poor, but I’m giving up this cloth anyway to save you.” Then he let the turtle go in the lake.
He came home empty-handed, and when his wife found out why, she scolded him mercilessly. Soon he fell ill and died, and his body was abandoned by the roadside. Three days later he revived.
The governor of Iga happened to be passing by just then, on his way to his province. Seeing the man showing signs of life, he kindly brought him water and poured it into his mouth before going on. When the man’s wife heard what had happened, she came to carry him back home.
This is the story he told. “When I died,” he said, “officers seized me and marched me off to a broad plain where we came to the gate of the officers’ headquarters. The space in front of the building was crowded with people, bound and helpless. I was terribly frightened. But then a very nice-looking little monk came out. He said he was Jizō and told the officers that he owed me a debt of gratitude. ‘To benefit sentient beings I was in Lake Biwa,’ he said, ‘in the form of a large turtle. A fisherman who had caught me was about to kill me when this man took pity on me. He bought me and put me back in the lake. You must let him go.’ And they did.
“The little monk told me to go home now, and to do good and shun all evil. While he was showing me the way out, a very pretty y
oung woman stumbled by with her arms tied behind her. Two demons were beating her and driving her along. I asked her where she was from. She wept as she told me her father was the chief priest of a shrine in Munakata county in the province of Chikuzen. She had suddenly been separated from her parents and had started all alone down a dark path, driven on by demons. It was such a sad story, and I asked the little monk whether something couldn’t be done for her. ‘My own life is half over,’ I said. ‘I don’t have too many years left. But this girl is still young and has a long future ahead of her. Can’t she be released instead of me?’ The little monk told me I was very kind to sacrifice myself the way I did for others, and that it was a wonderful thing. He said he would ask to have us both released, and at a word from him the demons let the girl go too. The girl cried for joy and thanked me gratefully, then went her way.”
Soon the man went to look for the young woman he had met in hell. He found the shrine she had mentioned, and the chief priest really did have a daughter who, according to the servants, had recently died and then come back to life again. On receiving the man’s message about his experience in hell, she came out as fast as she could. She was the same girl, and she recognized him too. Both wept as they talked over their experience.
The man went back home then, but both he and the young woman continued to serve Jizō with grateful devotion.
105.
THE GRATEFUL TURTLE
Fujiwara no Yamakage, who lived in Emperor Daigo’s reign, loved best among all his children a beautiful little son. The boy’s stepmother seemed to love him even more than his father did, and this pleased Yamakage so much that he often let her take care of the child.
In time Yamakage was named viceroy of Kyushu, and he set sail in a little convoy of ships, with all his family, to take up the post. It did not worry him that he and the boy were traveling in different ships since the boy was with his stepmother. Actually, though, the stepmother had been wondering all along how to get rid of the child. Along the Kyushu coast she finally picked him up, held him over the gunwale as though to let him relieve himself, and then, pretending to adjust her hold, dropped him into the sea. The convoy was moving briskly under full sail and had gone some way before she cried out that the young master had fallen overboard.
Yamakage nearly jumped overboard himself. He sent men in a dinghy to look for his son, then stopped the convoy and swore he would go no farther till he knew whether he was to have the boy back, dead or alive.
The men rowed about all night in vain. Then at dawn, as light was beginning to spread over the sea, they saw something small and white bobbing far off on the waves. It looked like a gull, and they were surprised that it did not fly away as they rowed closer. They found it was the boy, riding the back of a huge turtle and merrily splashing at the waves with his hands, With sighs of relief they lifted him into the dinghy, and the tortoise slid into the deep.
“Here’s the young master, sir!” they cried in triumph when they got back to Yamakage’s ship and handed the boy back to his father. Yamakage wept for joy. The stepmother wept too, in dismay, though she put on the best show of happiness she could. She disguised her feelings so well that it never even occurred to Yamakage to suspect her.
Exhausted, Yamakage lay down in broad day while the convoy sailed on, and dreamed that a huge turtle lifted its head from the sea. It seemed to want to speak to him. When he reached the side of the ship, it said, “Have you forgotten? A year or two ago a cormorant fisherman caught me on the coast not far from the Capital, and you bought me from him and let me go again. I’d been wondering ever since how to repay your kindness, and when you sailed I thought I might at least see you to where you were going. Last night I saw the young master’s stepmother pick him up, hold him over the railing, and drop him into the sea. I caught him on my shell. Watch that woman carefully in the future!”
The turtle drew its head back into the water and disappeared, and Yamakage woke up. He remembered how he had gone on pilgrimage to the great shrine at Sumiyoshi and had seen a cormorant fisherman coming toward him in a boat. The head of a large turtle had been sticking up over the gunwale and the turtle’s eyes had met his. He had pitied the creature so much that he had traded his own cloak for it and let it go in the sea. This was the same turtle! He was very touched. Then he recalled with loathing how the stepmother had made such a spectacle of her grief. He hastily brought the little boy aboard his own ship and was careful even after he arrived to keep the stepmother away from him. The stepmother realized to her sorrow that he had understood.
When Yamakage returned to Kyoto, he made the boy into a monk and gave him the religious name Nyomu, “As Nothing,” because having already died once, as it were, that was what the boy was. Nyomu served Retired Emperor Uda and achieved a high ecclesiastical rank. He ended up looking after his stepmother, who had no son of her own, for the rest of her life. How embarrassed she must have been!
106.
URASHIMA THE FISHERMAN
Young Urashima lived in Tango province, in the village of Tsutsugawa. One day in the fall of 477 (it was Emperor Yūryaku’s reign), he rowed out alone on the sea to fish. After catching nothing for three days and nights, he was surprised to find that he had taken a five-colored turtle. He got the turtle into the boat and lay down to sleep.
When the turtle changed into a dazzlingly lovely girl, the mystified Urashima asked her who she was.
“I saw you here, alone at sea,” she answered with a smile, “and I wanted so much to talk to you! I came on the clouds and the wind.”
“But where did you come from, then, on the clouds and wind?”
“I’m an Immortal and I live in the sky. Don’t doubt me! Oh, be kind and speak to me tenderly!”
Urashima understood she was divine, and all his fear of her melted away.
“I’ll love you as long as the sky and earth last,” she promised him, “as long as there’s a sun and a moon! But tell me, will you have me?”
“Your wish is mine,” he answered. “How could I not love you?”
“Then lean on your oars, my darling, and take us to my Eternal Mountain!”
She told him to close his eyes. In no time they reached a large island with earth like jade. Watchtowers on it shone darkly, and palaces gleamed like gems. It was a wonder no eye had seen and no ear had ever heard tell of before.
They landed and strolled on hand in hand to a splendid mansion, where she asked him to wait; then she opened the gate and went in. Seven young girls soon came out of the gate, telling each other as they passed him that he was Turtle’s husband; and eight girls who came after them told each other the same. That was how he learned her name.
He mentioned the girls when she came back out. She said the seven were the seven stars of the Pleiades, and the eight the cluster of Aldebaran. Then she led him inside.
Her father and mother greeted him warmly and invited him to sit down. They explained the difference between the human and the divine worlds, and they let him know how glad this rare meeting between the gods and a man had made them. He tasted a hundred fragrant delicacies and exchanged cups of wine with the girl’s brothers and sisters. Young girls with glowing faces flocked to the happy gathering, while the gods sang their songs sweetly and clearly and danced with fluid grace. The feast was a thousand times more beautiful than any ever enjoyed by mortals in their far-off land.
Urashima never noticed the sun going down, but as twilight came on the Immortals all slipped away. He and the maiden, now alone, lay down in each other’s arms and made love. They were man and wife at last.
For three years he forgot his old life and lived in paradise with the Immortals. Then one day he felt a pang of longing for the village where he had been born and the parents he had left behind. After that, he missed them more each day.
“Darling,” said his wife, “you haven’t looked yourself lately. Won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
“They say the dying fox turns toward his lair and the lesser man lo
ngs to go home. I’d never believed it, but now I know it’s true.”
“Do you want to go back?”
“Here I am in the land of the gods, far from all my family and friends. I shouldn’t feel this way, I know, but I can’t help being homesick for them. I want so much to go back and see my mother and father!”
His wife brushed away her tears. “We gave ourselves to each other forever!” she lamented. “We promised we’d be as true as gold or the rocks of the mountains! How could a little homesickness make you want to leave me?”
They went for a walk hand in hand, sadly talking it all over. Finally they embraced, and when they separated their parting was sealed.
Urashima’s parents-in-law were sad to see him go. His wife gave him a jeweled box. “Dearest,” she said, “if you don’t forget me and find you want to come back, then grip this box hard. But you mustn’t open it, ever.”
He got into his boat and they told him to close his eyes. In no time he was at Tsutsugawa, his home. The place looked entirely different. He recognized nothing there at all.
“Where’s Urashima’s family — Urashima the fisherman?” he asked a villager.
“Who are you?” the villager answered. “Where are you from? Why are you looking for a man who lived long ago? Yes, I’ve heard old people mention someone named Urashima. He went out alone on the sea and never came back. That was three hundred years ago. What do you want with him now?”
Bewildered, Urashima roamed the village for ten days without finding any sign of family or old friends. At last he stroked the box his divine lady had given him and thought of her; then, forgetting his recent promise, he opened it. Before his eyes her fragrant form, borne by the clouds and the wind, floated up and vanished into the blue sky. He understood he had disobeyed her and would never see her again. All he could do was gaze after her, then pace weeping along the shore.