Pathway to Japanese Literature

1

Once, a group of five thieves came to Hana no Ki Village.

It was an early summer noon—young bamboo stretching slender, tender green buds into patches of sky here and there, while pine cicadas droned their shrill chorus through the forest. The thieves came from the north along the river. Near the entrance of Hana no Ki Village was a green field overgrown with dockweed and clover, where children and cows were playing. Even from seeing just this, the thieves understood that this was a peaceful village. And thinking that such a village must surely have houses with money and fine clothes, they already rejoiced.

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

When they came to the thicket, the Leader of the thieves said:

“Alright then, I’ll wait here in the shadow of this thicket while you lot go into the village to scout things out.” “Now mind you—since you’re all new to thieving—don’t go making fools of yourselves.” “When you spot a house that looks wealthy, check every inch—which window’s easiest to smash, whether they’ve got guard dogs.” “Listen well, Kamauemon.” “Yes, sir.” Kamauemon replied. This man had until yesterday been an itinerant kettle smith, crafting iron pots and tea kettles.

“Listen well, Ebinosuke.”

“Yes, sir.” Ebinosuke replied. This man had been working at a locksmith shop until just yesterday, making locks for storehouses and chests in various homes. “Listen well, Kakubee.”

“Yes, sir.” the still-youthful Kakubee replied. This was Kakubee Lion from Echigo, who until just yesterday had been performing handstands and somersaults outside people’s thresholds to earn a coin or two.

“Listen well, Kantaro.” “Yes, sir.”

Kantaro replied. This was Kantaro, the son of a carpenter from Edo, who until just yesterday had been touring various regions to study the construction of temple and shrine gates as part of his apprenticeship. “Alright, everyone, go.” “Since I’m the boss, I’ll wait here while having a smoke.” Thereupon, the thief disciples entered Hana no Ki Village—Kamauemon pretending to be a kettle maker, Ebinosuke acting as a locksmith, Kakubee playing his flute like a lion dancer, and Kantaro posing as a carpenter.

After his disciples had gone, the Leader plopped down onto the riverside grass and, just as he had told them he would, began puffing steadily on his tobacco—his face wearing the hardened look of a seasoned thief. He was a true thief who had been committing arson and theft for a long time. “Until yesterday I was just a lone thief,” he mused to himself. “But today I’ve become the leader of a band of thieves for the first time. Now that I’m sitting in this boss’s seat though—this isn’t half bad. Since my disciples will handle all the work from here on out...” He stretched out on the grass with a contented grunt.

And so, because the Leader had nothing to do, he found himself muttering such trivial soliloquies.

Eventually, the disciple Kamauemon returned. “Leader! Leader!”

The Leader perked up from beside the thistle flowers.

“Gah, damn it! You scared me.

“Don’t call me ‘Leader’ or nothin’—sounds like you’re talkin’ ’bout a fish head.” “Just say ‘Leader’.”

The disciple, newly become a thief, “I most humbly apologize.”

He apologized. “How about it? What’s the situation inside the village?”

the Leader asked. “Oh, it’s splendid, Leader!” “There were! There were!”

“What?” “There was a large house, you see—the rice-cooking kettle there was massive enough to boil three to of rice.” “That’ll fetch a fortune.” “And the temple bell hanging there was enormous too. Melt that down and you’d get fifty tea kettles easy.” “Nah, my eyes don’t lie.” “If you think I’m fibbing, I’ll make one right here to prove it.”

“Stop boasting about such trivial nonsense.”

And the Leader scolded his disciple. “You’re still clinging to that kettle maker’s mentality—that’s your problem.” “What idiot comes back only reporting on rice-cooking kettles and hanging bells?” “And what’s that pot with a hole you’re holding there?” “Well, you see—when I passed by a certain house, this was hung out to dry on a podocarpus hedge.” “When I looked, this one had a hole in its bottom.” “When I saw that, I completely forgot I was a thief and ended up telling the mistress there, ‘I’ll fix this pot for twenty mon.’”

“What an utter fool!” “It’s because you haven’t properly internalized that your trade is thievery—that’s why this happens.” And so, the Leader—acting every bit the leader—instructed his disciple. And then, “Sneak back into the village and get a proper look this time.”

he commanded. Kamauemon swung the pot with a hole loosely as he entered the village again.

This time, Ebinosuke returned.

“Leader, this village here is no good.”

Ebinosuke said listlessly.

“Why?” “None of the storehouses have proper locks attached.” “They only have locks that even a child could break.” “In that case, it’s no good for our trade.” “What do you mean by ‘our trade’?” “Uh… locks… smith?” “You still haven’t changed your damn mentality!”

And the Leader barked. “Oh, I’m sorry.” “That’s exactly the kind of village that’s perfect for our line of work! There are storehouses with only locks that even a child could break—could there be anything more convenient for our line of work? You imbecile! Go back and take another proper look.” “I see. So villages like this are perfect for our line of work.”

And Ebinosuke, impressed, entered the village once more.

Next to return was the young Kakubee. Kakubee had been playing his flute as he approached, so even before his figure became visible beyond the thicket, it was clear he was coming. “How long are you going to keep tootling that flute? Thieves are supposed to avoid making noise as much as possible.” And the Leader scolded him. Kakubee stopped playing. “So, what did you see?”

“When I followed along the river, I came across a small house with Japanese irises blooming all over its garden.” “Hmm, and then?” “Under the eaves of that house stood an old man with hair, eyebrows, and beard all pure white.” “Hmm—did that old man look like he’d hidden a pot of gold coins under the floorboards or something?”

“That old man was playing a bamboo flute.” “It was just a plain bamboo flute, but it made such a beautiful sound.” “I’d never heard anything so mysteriously lovely before.” “If I’d really listened proper-like, he’d have smiled and played me three long songs.” “So I thanked him by doing seven dragonfly flips one after another.”

“Good grief. And then?” “When I said that flute was a good one, he showed me the bamboo thicket where flute bamboo grows.” “It’s made from bamboo there, he said.” “So I went to check out the bamboo thicket the old man told me about.” “Truly fine flute bamboo—hundreds of stalks—were growing smooth and straight.”

“There’s an old tale about golden light shining from bamboo—so what? Did you find any koban coins lying around?” “Then, as I kept going further down the river, there was a small nunnery.” “There was Hana no Shidare there.” “The garden was full of people pouring sweet amacha tea over a Buddha statue about the size of my flute.” “I poured some too, and then they let me drink my fill before coming back.” “If there’d been a teacup, I would’ve brought one for you too, Leader.”

“Good grief, what a hopeless thief you are.” “In crowds like that, you should be watching people’s pockets and sleeves.” “You fool! Go back and do your job properly this time!” “Leave that flute here.”

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

The last to return was Kantaro. “You didn’t see anything decent either.”

And without waiting to be asked, the Leader spoke.

“No, there was a rich person—a rich person!”

And Kantaro said in a lively voice. When he heard “rich person,” the Leader smiled. “Oh, a rich person.” “A rich person—a rich person!” “It was a splendid, magnificent house.”

“Hmm.” “That parlor ceiling—it was a single slab of Satsuma cedar! When I saw it, I thought, ‘My old man would’ve been thrilled to see this,’ and I just stood there gaping at it.”

“Hmph. Not interesting at all.” “So, are you plannin’ to come back even if ya gotta tear down that ceiling?” Kantaro remembered he was a thief’s disciple. Realizing he hadn’t been sharp enough as a thief’s disciple, Kantaro pulled an awkward face and hung his head.

So Kantaro also entered the village once more to start over.

“Good grief.” And now alone, the Leader flipped over onto his back in the grass and said,

“Being the leader of thieves isn’t such an easy job after all, eh.”

II

Suddenly,

“Thief!” “Thief!” “Get him!” came the voices of a great many children. Even a thief couldn’t hear such things from children’s voices without being startled, so the Leader sprang up in alarm. And in that fleeting moment, he thought: Should he leap into the river to escape to the opposite bank, or should he duck into the thicket to hide himself?

However, the children ran off in that direction, swinging bits of rope and toy truncheons. The children had been playing pretend.

“Oh, it was just the children playing pretend.” The Leader said flatly, all vigor drained from his voice. “Even if it’s just play, thief-pretend makes for poor games.” “Children these days grow worse by the year.” “Makes you fear for what’s to come.” Despite being a thief himself, the Leader muttered these things under his breath as he tried to lie back down in the grass. At that moment, from behind,

“Mister.” he was addressed. When he turned to look, there stood an adorable boy of about seven years old, leading a calf. Judging by his refined features and pale hands and feet, he didn’t seem to be a farmer’s child. Perhaps the young master from a wealthy household had come out to play in the fields accompanied by a servant and pleaded with him to let him hold the calf. But what was odd was that his small white feet were clad in little straw sandals, as if he were setting off on a long journey.

“Hold onto this calf, okay?” Before the Leader could say anything, the child said just that, darted close, and placed the red reins in his hands. The Leader worked his mouth there, trying to form words, but before he could speak, the child had already raced off after the other children. To join those playing children, this straw-sandaled boy left without a backward glance.

While he was still dazed, the Leader found himself holding the calf and chuckled as he looked at it.

Generally, calves hop about here and there, making them a hassle to manage—but this calf was remarkably docile. With its large, moist eyes blinking, it stood guilelessly by the Leader’s side.

“Heh heh heh.” The Leader couldn’t stop laughter welling up from his belly. “With this, I can boast to my disciples.” “While you all were wandering through the village making fools of yourselves, I’ve already stolen a calf,” he’d say.

And again, he chuckled gruffly. Because he had laughed so much, this time tears began to flow. Ah, how strange. I laughed so damn much I ended up crying.

However, those tears flowed and flowed without stopping.

“No, wait—what’s happening here? Me shedding tears… why, this is no different from crying!”

That’s right.

Truly, the Leader of the Thieves was weeping.—The Leader was happy. He had always been met with nothing but cold stares from others until now. When he passed by, people would close their windows and lower their bamboo blinds as if declaring, "Here comes some strange fellow!" When he called out to them, even people who had been talking and laughing would suddenly turn away as if remembering urgent work. Even the carp floating on the pond’s surface would flip their bodies vigorously and sink down when he stood on the bank. Once, when he offered a persimmon to a monkey carried on a monkey handler’s back, it threw the fruit on the ground without taking a single bite. Everyone had disliked him. Everyone had refused to trust him. However, this straw-sandaled child had entrusted a calf to him, a thief. [The child] had believed he was a good person. Moreover, this calf didn’t dislike him at all and stayed calm. As if he were a mother cow, it kept snuggling up close to him. Both the child and the calf trusted him. This was the first time such a thing had happened to him—a thief. To be trusted by others—what an unspeakably joyful thing this must be.……

And so, the Leader was now a man of pure heart. There had been times in his childhood when he’d had such a heart, but ever since then—for what felt like an eternity—he’d lived with one wicked and foul. Now at last after all these years he’d become pure-hearted once more. It felt uncanny—as though someone had stripped off his grimy rags and thrown festival robes about him instead.

That was why tears flowed ceaselessly from the Leader’s eyes.

Before long, evening arrived. The pine cicadas ceased their song. From the village, white evening mist quietly flowed out and spread over the fields. The children moved farther away, their voices calling “Ready or not?” and “Not yet!” blending with other sounds until they became indistinguishable.

The Leader had been waiting, convinced that child would return any moment now. When that child came, he would say “Heave-ho,” and then—so as not to be seen as a thief—would gladly return the calf; or so he had thought.

But the children’s voices faded away into the village. The straw-sandaled child did not return. The moon hanging over the village began to shine like a mirror craftsman’s newly polished mirror. 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. I can’t give you any milk.”

As he said this, the Leader was petting the calf’s spotted back. Tears were still flowing from his eyes.

Just then, the four disciples returned together.

Three “Leader, we’re back.” “Oh—what’s this calf doing here?” “Haha! I knew it—the Leader ain’t no ordinary thief!” “While we were off scoutin’ the village, you went and pulled another job, eh?”

Kamauemon looked at the calf and said. The Leader, trying not to let his tear-drenched face be seen, kept his face turned away, “Hmm, I was gonna brag to you all by saying that, but truth is, it ain’t like that. There’s a reason for this.” the Leader said. “Oh, Leader… are those… tears?”

Ebinosuke asked in a lowered voice. “Once tears start flowing, they just keep coming.”

With that, the Leader wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “Leader, you must be pleased—this time, the four of us had properly embraced our thief instincts and scouted everything through! Kamauemon had identified five houses with golden kettles; Ebinosuke had examined five storehouse locks and verified they could be opened with a single bent nail; I, the carpenter, had scouted five roofs that this saw could slice through without trouble; and Kakubee—well, Kakubee had found five fences he could leap over in straw sandals. Leader, we’d like you to praise us.”

Kantaro declared enthusiastically. However, the Leader did not respond to that and,

“I was entrusted with this calf. “But since the child still hasn’t come to take it back, I’m at my wit’s end. “Sorry ’bout this, but you all—split up and find the kid who left the calf with me, will ya?” “Leader—are you returning the calf you were trusted with?” Kamauemon said with a look of incomprehension.

“That’s right.” “Would even thieves do such a thing, sir?” “There’s a reason for that. This one, at least, I must return.” “Leader, you’ve got to embrace your thief instincts proper!” said Kantaro.

The Leader gave a wry smile and explained the situation in detail to his disciples. When they heard the explanation, everyone came to clearly understand the Leader’s feelings. So the disciples decided that this time, they would go search for the child. “A cute little boy of about seven, wearing straw sandals.” With some reluctance, the four disciples scattered out. The Leader, too, could no longer stay still and went searching while leading the calf.

Under the moonlight, in the village night where the white flowers of wild roses and deutzia were faintly visible, five adult thieves walked on, leading a single calf as they searched for the child. Thinking that perhaps the child was still hiding somewhere as part of their game of hide-and-seek, the thieves searched beneath the Tsujido shrine’s eaves where earthworms wriggled, atop persimmon trees, inside storage sheds, and under fragrant mandarin orange trees. They had even tried asking people.

However, they could not find that child in the end. The villagers lit their lanterns and came to examine the calf in its light, but said they had never seen such a calf in these parts. “Leader, searching all night like this is futile. Let’s give up.”

Ebinosuke sat down wearily on a roadside stone and said.

“No—I must find him and return **the calf** to that child.”

The Leader did not listen. “There’s just no way left. The only method left is to appeal to the village official—but surely even you, Leader, wouldn’t want to go there.”

Kamauemon said.

A village official was, in modern terms, akin to a resident constable.

“Hmm... So that’s how it is.”

The Leader fell into deep thought. And for a while, he continued stroking the calf’s head, but eventually,

“Let’s go there.” said the Leader. And he had already started walking. The disciples were startled, but they had no choice but to follow.

When they asked their way to the village official’s house, who appeared before them was an elderly man with glasses that looked about to slip off the tip of his nose, so the thieves first felt relieved. This was because they had thought that if push came to shove, they could just knock him aside and make their escape.

The Leader spoke about the child, “We’ve lost track of that child and are at a loss.” said the Leader.

The old man looked around at the five men’s faces, “You’re all complete strangers around here. Where might you have come from?”

he asked. “We’re heading west from Edo.” “Surely you aren’t thieves?”

“No, not at all,” said the Leader hurriedly. “We are all traveling craftsmen—kettle makers, carpenters, locksmiths, and such.” The old official looked at them pensively before speaking again. “Well now—I shouldn’t have said such odd things earlier. You aren’t thieves,” he declared with a wave of his hand. “Thieves would never return stolen goods, you understand? If you were criminals, you’d have made off with that calf straightaway when it was entrusted to you.” His glasses slipped further down his nose as he chuckled ruefully. “My apologies for suspecting you good folk—this job’s made me distrustful of everyone I meet these days. Can’t help wondering if each new face hides a swindler or pickpocket.” He poured more sake into their cups with a self-deprecating smile. “Pay no mind to this old man’s ramblings.”

The old man made excuses and apologized. And so, deciding to keep the calf for now, he had his servant lead it to the storehouse. “You must all be weary from your travels. I’ve just received a fine bottle of sake from Taro of Nishikan to the west, 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 join me for a drink.” The kindly old man said this and led the five thieves to the veranda.

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

Then once more, the Leader noticed that his own eyes were spilling tears. Seeing this, the elderly village official,

“You seem to be a crying drunkard. I’m a laughing drunkard—seeing someone cry just makes me laugh all the more. Please don’t take it badly—it’s just that it makes me laugh.” With that, he opened his mouth and laughed.

“Well, these tears—they truly do flow without end.”

The Leader said while blinking his eyes. Then, the five thieves thanked the village official and left his house.

When they exited the gate and came near the persimmon tree, the Leader stopped as if remembering something. “Leader, did you forget something?” asked Kantaro. “Well, there’s something I forgot.” “All of you, come with me one more time.” With that, the Leader led his disciples and entered the village official’s house once more.

“Sir,”

The Leader placed his hands on the veranda and said. “What’s this solemn mood?” “Will the crying drunkard’s hidden hand come out now?”

“Ha ha ha!” The old man laughed. “We are actually thieves. “I am the leader, and these are my disciples.”

When he heard this, the old man’s eyes went round. “No, it’s only natural you’re shocked.” “I never intended to confess such things.” “But seeing that you are such a kind-hearted person and trusted us as decent human beings, I could no longer bring myself to deceive you.”

With that, the Leader of the thieves confessed all the misdeeds he had committed up to now.

And finally, “But these ones only became my disciples yesterday and haven’t done anything wrong yet.” “By your mercy, please forgive these ones.” he said.

The next morning, from Hana no Ki Village, the Kettle Maker, the Locksmith, the Carpenter, and Kakubee the Acrobat each set off in separate directions. The four walked on with their heads bowed. They were thinking about the Leader. They had thought he was a good leader. Because he had been a good leader, they thought they must obey the words he had spoken last: "Never become thieves again."

Kakubee picked up a flute from the grass by the river’s edge and went on playing it merrily.

IV

And so, the five thieves had reformed, but who in the world was that child who had been the cause of it all? The people of Hana no Ki Village searched for the child who had saved their village from the thieves’ calamity, but ultimately could not determine his identity. In the end, they settled on this conclusion—it must have been the small Jizo statue that had long stood at the base of the earthen bridge. The evidence was that he had been wearing straw sandals. For some reason, the villagers often offered straw sandals to this Jizo statue, and on that very day as well, a new pair of small straw sandals had been placed at the statue’s feet. And that was their conclusion.

The fact that the Jizo statue walked wearing straw sandals may seem strange, but it’s thought that the world can allow for this much mystery. Moreover, since this was already a thing of the past, it didn’t really matter anymore. But if this were indeed true, it was because all the people of Hana no Ki Village were good-hearted that the Jizo statue saved them from the thieves. If that were so, then it would also mean that a village must be a place where people of good heart reside.