Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

Long ago, five thieves arrived at Flower Tree Village. It was an early summer noon when young bamboo shoots stretched slender, fresh green buds into patches of sky here and there, while in the pine groves, pine cicadas shrilled ceaselessly. The thieves had come from the north along the river. The area around Flower Tree Village's entrance was a green field where sorrel and clover grew thickly, with children and cows playing. Just seeing this told the thieves this was a peaceful village. And already they rejoiced, certain such a village must contain houses with money and fine robes.

The river flowed beneath the thicket, turned a single waterwheel there with a clunk-clunk, and wound its way deep into the village.

When they reached the thicket, the leader of the thieves spoke.

“Alright, I’ll wait here in the thicket’s shadow while you lot go into the village to scout things out. Now listen—you’ve only just become thieves, so mind you don’t mess this up. When you find a house that looks wealthy, check which windows could be forced open and whether they keep dogs. You got that, Kamauemon?” “Right.” Kamauemon answered. Until yesterday, he had been an itinerant kettle maker who crafted kettles and teakettles.

“You got that, Ebinojou?” “Right.” Ebinojou replied. He had been a locksmith until yesterday, making locks for storehouses and chests in houses. “You got that, Kakubee?” “Right.” the youth Kakubee replied. This was Kakubee the lion dancer from Echigo, who until yesterday had been performing handstands and somersaults outside people’s thresholds to earn a coin or two.

“You got that, Kanna Tarou?” “Right.” Kanna Tarou replied. This was Kanna Tarou, the son of a carpenter from Edo, who until yesterday had been touring various provinces to study the construction of temple and shrine gates while training as a carpenter.

“Alright, everyone, go. Since I’m the boss, I’ll wait here while having a smoke.” So the thief disciples entered Flower Tree Village—Kamauemon posing as a kettle maker, Ebinojou as a locksmith, Kakubee merrily playing his flute like a lion dancer, and Kanna Tarou as a carpenter. Once the disciples had gone, the Leader plopped down on the riverside grass and, just as he’d told them, began puffing on his tobacco while maintaining the look of a proper thief. This was a true thief who had been setting fires and stealing for a long time.

“Until yesterday I was just a lone thief, but today I’ve become a proper leader of thieves.” “Now that I’m seeing what being leader’s like—this ain’t half bad.” “With my disciples handling all the work, I can just lie here waiting.” Having nothing else to do, the Leader found himself muttering these idle thoughts aloud.

Before long, the disciple Kamauemon returned. “Leader! Leader!” The Leader nimbly raised himself up from beside the thistle flowers.

“What the hell! You scared me.” “Don’t go callin’ me ‘O-kashira’ or nothin’—makes it sound like some fish’s head, don’t it?” “Just call me ‘Leader’.” The disciple who had just become a thief “I sincerely apologize.” Kamauemon apologized. “How’s it look inside the village?”

And the Leader asked.

“Oh, it’s splendid, Leader! There they were—there they were!” “What was?”

“There was a big house, you see, and the rice-cooking pot there was a huge one that could cook at least about fifty liters of rice.” “That’ll fetch a hefty sum.” “Moreover, the bell hanging at the temple was quite large—if we melt that down, we could make at least fifty teakettles.” “Nah, my eyes don’t lie.” “If you think I’m lying, I’ll forge one and show you.” “Stop puffing yourself up over nonsense.”

And the Leader scolded the disciple. “You’re still stuck in yer damn kettle-maker mindset—that’s why yer useless.” “You think there’s any self-respectin’ thief who’d come back babblin’ ’bout rice pots ’n temple bells?” “And what in blazes—that holey pot ya got there?” “Uh, well y’see—when I passed this one house-like, this here was hung out dryin’ on a podocarpus hedge.” “Took a look-see ’n there was this hole right in its bottom.” “Saw that ’n plumb forgot I’m s’posed t’be a thief—went ’n told the mistress there, ‘Fix this fer twenty mon, I will.’”

“What an idiot.” “It’s because you haven’t properly internalized that your trade is thievery—that’s why this happens.” And so, the Leader acted like a leader and taught his disciples. Then,

“Sneak back into the village, take a good look around this time, and come back.”

The Leader commanded. Kamauemon swung the hole-riddled pot carelessly back and forth as he entered the village again.

This time, Ebinojou returned. “Leader, this village here is hopeless.” Ebinojou said weakly. “Why?”

“None of the storehouses have what you’d call proper locks.” “They’ve only got locks even a child could twist right off.” “With that, it’s no use for our line of work.” “What do you mean by ‘our line of work’?”

“Uh… locksmith…” “You still haven’t changed your damn mindset!”

And the Leader bellowed. “Uh, my apologies.” “That’s precisely the kind of village that’s perfect for our line of work! A place with storehouses that only have locks even a child could twist off—could there be anything more convenient for our line of work? You fool! Go take another proper look this time.” “I see. So this is precisely the kind of village that’s perfect for our line of work, isn’t it?”

And Ebinojou, duly impressed, entered the village once more.

The next to return was the boy Kakubee. Because Kakubee came playing his flute, they knew he was approaching even before he became visible from beyond the thicket.

“How long are you going to keep blaring that racket? Thieves are meant to move without making a sound.”

And the Leader scolded him. Kakubee stopped playing.

“So, what did you see there?” “When I followed the river along, there was a small house with irises blooming all over its garden.” “Yeah, and then?”

“Under the eaves of that house, there was an old man with hair, eyebrows, and beard all pure white.”

“Yeah, did that old man look like he was hiding a pot of gold coins under the floorboards or something?” “That old man was playing a bamboo flute. Just a plain bamboo flute, but it made such a fine sound. Never heard anything so strangely beautiful before. If I’d been listening proper-like, he’d have smiled and played three long tunes for me. To thank him, I did seven dragonfly flips in a row.”

“Good grief. What else?” “When I said that was a fine flute, he showed me where the flute bamboo grows.” “Said it’s made from bamboo there.” “So I went to see that thicket he told me about.” “Hundreds of proper flute stalks stood straight and smooth—growing up so sleek you could hear music in their sway.”

“There’s an old tale about golden light shining from bamboo—so what about it? Did you find any gold coins lying around?”

“Then, as I went further down the river, there was a small nunnery.” “There was a weeping flower tree there.” “In the garden, there was a crowd of people pouring amacha tea over a Shakyamuni Buddha statue about the size of my flute.” “I poured some over it too, and then they let me drink my fill.” “If there’d been a teacup, I would’ve brought one for you too, Leader.” “Good grief, what an innocent thief you are.” “In crowded places like that, you should watch people’s breast pockets and sleeves.” “You blockhead! Go do your scouting properly this time!” “Leave that flute here.”

Kakubee, having been scolded, left the flute in the grass and entered the village once more.

The last to return was Kanna Tarou.

“You didn’t see anything worthwhile either.”

And before anyone could ask, the Leader said. “No—there was a rich person, a rich person!” And Kanna Tarou said in a buoyant voice. Hearing “rich person,” the Leader broke into a smile.

“Oh, a rich person?” “A rich person, a rich person! It was a splendid, magnificent house.” “Hmm.” “When it came to that room’s ceiling—it was a single plank of Satsuma cedar! Seeing that made me think how overjoyed my old man would be, so I just stood there staring at it.” “Hmph, nothin’ amusing about that. So, you plannin’ to come back even if you gotta rip out that ceiling or somethin’?”

Kanna Tarou remembered that he was a thief's disciple. Realizing he hadn't been quick-witted enough as a thief's disciple, Kanna Tarou made a sheepish face and hung his head. So Kanna Tarou also entered the village once more to try again.

“Good grief.”

And flopping down into the grass alone.

“Bein’ the leader of thieves ain’t as easy a job as you’d think.”

II

Suddenly,

“Thief!” “Thief!” “There! Get him!”

A great many children’s voices shouted such things. Even though they were just children’s voices, hearing such things was enough to startle any thief into action, so the Leader jolted upright. And in that split second, he thought: Should he jump into the river and flee to the opposite bank, or burrow into the thicket and hide his presence? However, the children ran off in that direction, swinging lengths of rope and toy police batons. The children had been playing thieves.

“Oh, just a children’s game.”

And the Leader said without enthusiasm. “Even as a game, playing thieves isn’t proper.” “Children these days have stopped doing anything worthwhile.” “If this keeps up, I fear for what’s to come.”

Despite being a thief himself, the Leader muttered such things to himself and was about to lie down again in the grass. At that moment, from behind,

“Mister.”

he was called out to. When he turned to look, there stood an adorable boy of about seven years old, leading a calf. Judging by his refined features and fair-skinned hands and feet, he didn’t seem like a farmer’s child. Perhaps the young master from a wealthy family had come out to play in the fields with his manservant and pleaded with him to let him hold the calf. But what struck him as odd was that on those small white feet—as if he were someone setting off on a long journey—the boy wore tiny straw sandals.

“Hold onto this calf for me.” Before the Leader could speak, the child said this, darted close, and placed the red reins into the Leader’s hands. The Leader worked his mouth wordlessly trying to respond, but before he could form words, the child raced off after the other children. To join that group of children, the one in straw sandals departed without a backward glance.

While still in a daze from having been entrusted with the calf, the Leader chuckled while looking at it. Calves generally tend to hop about all over the place, making them troublesome to handle, but this calf was remarkably docile, standing innocently by the Leader’s side as it fluttered its large, moist-gleaming eyes. “Heh heh heh.” The Leader couldn’t stop the laughter welling up from his belly.

“Now I can brag to my disciples,” “While you all were wanderin’ round the village with those dumb looks on your faces, I’ve already gone and stolen a calf, I’ll say.” And again he chuckled—heh heh heh— until his laughter brought tears streaming down his face. “Ah, this is strange,” “Laughed so damn much it made tears come pourin’ out.” Yet those tears kept flowing without end.

“No—goodness, what’s happening here? Me shedding tears—this is no different from crying outright.”

Indeed. Truly, the leader of the thieves had been crying—the Leader was happy. Until now, he had been met with nothing but cold stares from others. When he passed by, people would close their windows and lower their bamboo blinds as if to say, “Look—some strange fellow’s coming!” When he called out to them, even those chatting and laughing would suddenly turn away as if remembering urgent work. Even carp floating on pond surfaces would flip their bodies with a splash and sink when he stood on the bank. Once, he’d given a persimmon to a monkey riding a handler’s back—it threw the fruit down without a bite. Everyone had disliked him. No one had ever trusted him. Yet this child in straw sandals had entrusted him—a thief—with a calf. The child had believed him good. And this calf showed not a hint of aversion, standing docile by his side. As if he were its mother cow, it pressed close. Both child and calf trusted him. For him—a thief—this was a first. To be trusted by others—what joy that must be.…

And so, the Leader had now become a man with a beautiful heart. There had been times in his childhood when he’d had such a heart, but ever since then, for years on end, he had wallowed in wickedness and filth. After long decades adrift, he found himself once more cradling purity within. This transformation felt uncanny—like exchanging grime-caked rags for festival silks without warning. Such was why tears streamed endlessly from his eyes.

Eventually, evening came. The pine cicadas ceased their singing. From the village, white evening mist quietly began to drift out and spread across the fields. The children went far away, their voices calling "Ready yet?" and "Not yet!" mingling with other sounds until they grew hard to distinguish.

The Leader was waiting, thinking it was already about time for that child to return. When that child came, he would say “Heave-ho!” and cheerfully return the calf so as not to be seen as a thief, he thought. But the children’s voices faded away into the village. The child in straw sandals did not return. The moon hanging over the village began to shine like a mirror freshly polished by a mirror craftsman. In the forest over there, an owl began to call, two hoots at a time.

The calf, perhaps having grown hungry, pressed its body against the Leader. “But there’s nothing I can do about it. Ain’t no milk comin’ from me.” Having said that, the Leader was stroking the spotted back of the calf. Tears were still flowing from his eyes.

Just then, the four disciples returned together.

Three “Leader! We’ve returned!” “Oh—what’s this calf doing here?” “Hah! Just as I thought—the Leader ain’t no ordinary thief!” “While we were out scoutin’ the village—you went and pulled off another job behind our backs!”

Kamauemon looked at the calf and said. The Leader, trying not to let them see his tear-streaked face, kept looking away,

“Hmm, I was going to brag like that to you lot, but the truth is, that ain’t how it is,” he said. “There’s a reason for this here situation.” “Oh, Leader... could those be tears?” Ebinojou asked in a hushed tone. “Tears—once they start flowin’, they just keep comin’.”

Having said that, the Leader wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “Leader, please be proud—this time, we four have properly adopted a thief’s mindset and scouted thoroughly.” “Kamauemon has identified five houses with golden kettles, Ebinojou has examined five storehouse locks and confirmed they can be opened with a single bent nail, I, the carpenter, have scouted five house eaves that this saw can cut through easily, and Kakubee here has found five fences you could vault over even wearing geta.” “Leader, we’d like you to praise us.”

Kanna Tarou said enthusiastically. However, the Leader did not respond to this and,

“I was entrusted with this calf. But since he still hasn’t come to retrieve it, I’m in a bind here. Sorry ’bout this, but you lot—split up and find the kid who left this calf with me, will ya?” “Leader, are we returning the calf we were entrusted with?”

Kamauemon said with a look of utter bewilderment.

“That’s right.” “Would even a thief do such a thing, sir?” “There’s a reason for that, I tell ya.” “This one here’s gotta go back.”

“Leader, you gotta get a firmer thief mentality,” said Kanna Tarou.

The Leader forced a wry smile as he explained the circumstances in detail to his disciples. When they heard the reason, everyone came to clearly understand the Leader’s feelings.

So the disciples decided to go search for the child this time. “A cute little boy around seven years old, wearing straw sandals.” After some hesitation, the four disciples scattered and went their separate ways. The Leader, too, could no longer remain still and went searching while leading the calf. In the moonlit night of the village where the white flowers of wild roses and deutzia were faintly visible, the five adult thieves walked through, leading a single calf as they searched for the child.

Because they thought the child might still be hiding somewhere in continuation of their game of hide-and-seek, the thieves searched under the edge of the crossroads shrine where earthworms wriggled beneath the soil, atop persimmon trees, inside storage sheds, and beneath fragrant mandarin orange trees. They had even tried asking people. However, they ultimately could not find the child. The villagers lit their lanterns and came to examine the calf, but they said they had never seen such a calf in this area.

“Leader, searching all night would be futile. Let’s stop.”

Ebinojou said wearily, sitting down on a roadside stone. “No—I must find him and return it to that child.”

But the Leader would not listen.

“There’s just no way left.” “The only method remaining is to appeal to the village official, but surely even you wouldn’t want to go there, Leader.” Kamauemon said. A village official was what you might call a resident police officer in modern terms. “Hmm, I see.”

The Leader pondered deeply. And for a while he continued stroking the calf’s head, but eventually,

“Then, let’s go there.”

he said. And he had already started walking. The disciples were surprised, but they had no choice but to follow. When they went to inquire at the village official’s house, they were met by an elderly man with glasses perched precariously on the tip of his nose, so the thieves first felt relieved. This was because they thought that if push came to shove, they could simply shove him aside and flee. The Leader talked about the child and,

“We’ve lost track of that child and are in quite a predicament.” he said. The old man looked around at the five men’s faces, “You’re all strangers around these parts, I see. Where have you come from?”

he asked. “We’re travelers heading west from Edo.” “You couldn’t possibly be thieves, could you?” “No—absolutely not! We are all traveling craftsmen. Kettle makers, carpenters, locksmiths, and such.” The Leader said hastily. “Hmm, no—forgive me for speaking so strangely. You are not thieves. Thieves would never return something they’ve taken. If they were thieves, once entrusted with something, they’d consider it a lucky break and make off with it. No—I shouldn’t have said such strange things to you who came here with such good intentions to return it. No—it’s just that in my line of duty, I’ve grown accustomed to suspecting people. Whenever I lay eyes on someone, I can’t help wondering—is this one a swindler or a pickpocket, you see? Well, don’t take it the wrong way.”

The village official made excuses and apologized. And so, deciding to keep the calf in custody, he had the servant take it toward the storehouse. “You must all be weary from your travels. I’ve just received a fine bottle of sake from Mr. Taro of the Western Manor, so I was about to enjoy it on the veranda while gazing at the moon.” “You’ve all come at just the right time.” “Do me the honor of joining me.” The kind-hearted village official said this and led the five thieves to the veranda.

There, they began drinking, and the five thieves and the village official relaxed completely, laughing and talking merrily as if they had been acquainted for ten years or more.

Then once more, the leader of the thieves noticed that his own eyes were spilling tears. Having seen that, the elderly village official,

“You seem to be a weepy drinker.” “I’m a laugh-drinker—when I see someone crying, it just makes me want to laugh even more.” “Please don’t take it ill—it’s just that I laugh.”

With that, he opened his mouth and laughed. “Well, these tears—they truly do flow without end, don’t they?” The Leader said while blinking his eyes.

After that, the five thieves expressed their thanks and left the Village Official’s house.

When they exited the gate and came near the persimmon tree, the Leader stopped as if remembering something.

“Leader, did you forget something?” Kanna Tarou asked. “Yeah, I forgot something.” “You lot, come with me again.”

With that, the Leader took his disciples and entered the official’s house once more. “Sir.”

The Leader placed his hands on the veranda and said. “What’s this now, so solemn? Is the weepy drinker’s last trick coming out? Ha ha ha.” The old man laughed. “We are actually thieves. I am the Leader, and these are disciples.”

Hearing this, the old man rounded his eyes.

“Ah, it’s only natural you’d be shocked.” “I never intended to confess such a thing.” “But seeing how you’re such a kind-hearted soul—trusting us like we were decent folk—I couldn’t go on deceiving you any longer.”

Having said that, the leader of the thieves confessed all the wicked deeds they had committed up to that point. And finally, “But these ones only became my disciples yesterday and have yet to do anything wrong.” “In your mercy, please—grant these ones forgiveness.” said the Leader.

The next morning, from Flower Tree Village, the Kettle Maker, the Locksmith, the Carpenter, and the Lion Dancer each set out in different directions. The four walked on, their heads hanging low. They were thinking about the Leader. They were thinking that he had been a good Leader. Because he had been a good Leader, they thought they must uphold the final words the Leader had spoken: "Never become thieves again."

Kakubee picked up a flute from the grass by the riverbank and went off tootling it.

Four

And so the five thieves had reformed, but who exactly was that child who had been the catalyst for their change? The people of Flower Tree Village searched for the child who had saved their village from the thieves’ calamity, but ultimately could not determine his identity, and in the end settled on this conclusion:—it must have been the small Jizo-sama statue that had long stood at the base of Dobashi Bridge. The fact that he had been wearing straw sandals served as evidence. For some reason, the villagers often offered straw sandals to this Jizo-sama statue, and on that very day as well, a new pair of small straw sandals had been placed at its feet. And that was their conclusion.

That Jizo-sama walked wearing straw sandals may be a mysterious thing, but it was considered that the world could allow for this much mystery. Moreover, since this was already a story from long ago, it didn’t really matter either way. But if this had indeed been true, it was because all the people of Flower Tree Village were good-hearted that the Jizo statue had saved them from the thieves. If that were the case, then it followed that a village must be a place where good-hearted people reside.