Pathway to Japanese Literature

Now, all the rabbits had short brown coats.

The grass in the field sparkled, and here and there, the birch trees bore white flowers.

The field was indeed filled with a fragrant scent.

The young rabbit Homoi said joyfully, hopping and dancing.

“Mmm, what a wonderful smell!”
“Delicious! So delicious! These lilies of the valley are crispy as can be!”

A wind came, so the lilies of the valley clashed their leaves and flowers against each other, jingling and jingling.

Homoi was so overjoyed that he dashed off hopping across the grass without even catching his breath.

Then Homoi stopped for a moment, crossed his arms, and smiled contentedly,

“It’s just like I’m performing tricks on the river’s waves!” he said.

Truly, before he knew it, Homoi came to the bank of a small stream.

There, cold water gurgled with a bubbling sound, and the sand at the bottom glittered brightly.

Homoi tilted his head slightly,

“I wonder if I should jump over this river. Ah, it’s no problem. But the grass on the other side doesn’t look good,” he muttered to himself.

Then, suddenly from upstream,

“Brr-rr-rr! Pee-pee-pee-pee! Brr-rr-rr! Pee-pee-pee-pee!” A shrill cry rang out as a dusky, shaggy, bird-like form came floundering downstream, thrashing wildly.

Homoi hurried to the bank and stood poised and ready.

The one being swept away was indeed a thin lark chick.
Homoi suddenly jumped into the water and firmly grabbed it with his front paws.

Then, the lark chick, now thoroughly startled, opened its yellow beak wide and let out a cry so loud it seemed Homoi’s ears might go deaf.

Homoi frantically kicked at the water with his hind legs as hard as he could.
And then,

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Homoi said as he looked at the child’s face, but he was so startled that he nearly let go of his grip.
It had a face covered in wrinkles, a large beak, and moreover, somewhat resembled a lizard.

But this strong young rabbit never loosened his grip.
Despite his terror, with his mouth twisted into a へ-shaped grimace, he firmly held onto it and lifted it high above the water.

And the two of them were swiftly swept away.
Homoi was hit by waves about twice, so he ended up swallowing a great deal of water.
Still, even then, he never released his grip on his little charge.

Then, right at the bend of the small stream, a slender willow branch appeared, its leaves pattering against the water.

Homoi suddenly bit deeply into the branch, sinking his teeth so far that the blue bark showed. And then, with all his strength, he threw the lark chick onto the soft grass of the bank and leaped up himself in a single bound.

The lark chick lay collapsed on the grass, its eyes white and trembling uncontrollably.

Though staggering from exhaustion, Homoi forced himself to endure, plucking white willow flowers and covering the lark chick with them. The lark chick raised its mouse-gray face as if to say thank you.

Homoi shuddered when he saw that and suddenly leaped back.
And he cried out and ran away.

At that moment, something came down from the sky with a whoosh, like an arrow.
Homoi stopped and looked back to see that it was the mother lark.
The mother lark, trembling uncontrollably and unable to speak a word, held the lark chick tightly, tightly.

Homoi, now assured that everything was alright, ran straight back to father’s house.

Homoi’s mother was just arranging a bundle of white grass at home when she saw Homoi and was startled.
And then,

“Oh dear, what happened? You look terribly pale,” she said while lowering the medicine box from the shelf.

“Mom, I rescued a shaggy little bird chick that was drowning,” said Homoi.

Homoi’s mother took out a dose of all-purpose powder from the box and handed it to Homoi,

“Is that shaggy little bird chick a lark?” she asked.

Homoi received the medicine and,

“Probably a lark. Oh, my head is spinning. Mom, everything looks strange around me,” he said, and then collapsed in a heap.
He had contracted a terrible fever.

＊

Homoi had completely recovered thanks to his father, mother, and the rabbit doctor. It was around the time when all the lilies had borne blue fruits.

On one cloudless, quiet evening, Homoi ventured out from home for the first time.

A red star darted back and forth across the southern sky.
Homoi was entranced and gazed at it.
Then suddenly, there was a fluttering sound of wings in the sky, and two small birds descended.

The larger one carefully lowered a round, glowing red object onto the grass and then respectfully pressed its hands together and spoke.

“Lord Homoi.
“You are indeed our great benefactor, we parent and child.”

Homoi, using the light from the red object, looked closely at her face and said.

“Are you the Ms. Larks from the other day?”

The mother lark,

“Indeed it is.
“Thank you very much for the other day.
“I am truly grateful that you have kindly saved my child’s life.
“We heard that Your Lordship even fell ill on account of this, but have you quite recovered now?”

The parent and child larks bowed deeply once more and said.

“We have flown about this area every day awaiting Your Lordship’s emergence outdoors. This is a gift from our king,” said the lark as she placed the glowing red object before Homoi and unwrapped its thin mist-like cloth.
It was a perfectly round gem about the size of a horse chestnut, inside which a red fire flickered and burned.

The mother lark spoke again.

“This is the treasure gem called Shell Fire.”
“According to the king’s message,” she said, “this gem can become as splendid as anything depending on Your Lordship’s care.”
“Please do accept it.”

Homoi said with a laugh.

“Ms. Lark, I don’t need something like this.
Please take it back.
It’s such a beautiful thing that just seeing it is enough.
If I want to see it again, I’ll visit where you are.”

The mother lark said:

“No.
I beg you to accept it.
For this is a gift from our king.
If you refuse it again, my child and I will have no choice but to commit seppuku.
Now then, my child.
Take your leave.
Bow.
Please excuse us.”

And the parent and child larks bowed two or three times and then flew off in a flurry.

Homoi picked up the gem and examined it.
The gem appeared to emit red and yellow flames, burning frantically and ceaselessly, yet in truth remained cool, beautiful, and clear.
When he held it to his eye and peered through at the sky, the flames vanished, leaving the Milky Way shining cleanly through.
When he lowered it from his eye, the beautiful flames flickered back to life once more.

Homoi reverently lifted the gem and entered his home.
He promptly showed it to his father.
Then Homoi’s father took the gem in his paws, removed his spectacles, scrutinized it carefully, and spoke.

“This is the famous treasure called Shell Fire.”
“This is an extraordinary gem!”
“It is said that until now, there have been only two among birds and one among fish who could keep this gem satisfactorily throughout their entire lives as it is.”
“You’d better be careful not to lose its light!”

Homoi replied.
“That’s all right. I’ll never lose it.”
“The lark said something similar too.”
“I’ll blow on it a hundred times each day and polish it a hundred times each day with a red sparrow feather.”

Homoi's mother also took the gem in hand and examined it closely.
And she said.

“It is said this gem is easily damaged. However, when the late Eagle Minister possessed it—even during a great eruption where he rushed about giving evacuation orders to birds—this gem was struck by countless stones and swept away by crimson lava, yet emerged without a single scratch or cloudiness, becoming more beautiful than before.”

Homoi’s father said.

“That’s right. That’s a well-known tale.”
“You’ll certainly become someone as renowned as the Eagle Minister.”
“You must take care not to act cruelly.”

Homoi grew tired and sleepy.
And plopped down onto his own bed and said,

“It’s all right.
I’ll definitely do a great job.
I’ll keep the gem with me when I sleep, so please give it to me.”

Homoi’s mother handed over the gem.
Homoi pressed it against his chest and immediately fell asleep.

The beauty of that night’s dream lay in scenes where yellow and green fires burned in the sky; where the field transformed entirely into golden grass; where countless tiny windmills hummed faintly like bees as they flew through the air; where the Eagle Minister, imbued with virtue, patrolled the field with his silver cloak rippling resplendently; and where Homoi, overcome with joy, cried out—

“Hoh! It’s working! It’s working!” he cried out.

*

The next morning, Homoi woke up around seven o'clock, and the first thing he did was look at the gem.
The gem’s beauty was even greater than the night before.
Homoi peered into the gem and muttered to himself.

He could see it—he could see it!
There was the crater!
Flames erupted there!
They erupted!
Fascinating.
It looked just like fireworks.
Oh! Oh! Oh! Fire came billowing up.
It split into two.
How beautiful.
Sparks.
Sparks.
Exactly like lightning.
There it flowed out now!
It had turned completely golden.
Amazing! Amazing!
There—flames erupted again!

Homoi’s father had already gone outside.
Mother smiled, brought delicious white grass roots and blue rose fruits, and said:

“Come on, wash your face quickly. Today you’re going to do a bit of exercise.”
“Let me see it for a moment.”
“Oh my, it really is beautiful.”
“Is it all right if I watch while you wash your face?”

Homoi said:
“Sure thing.
This is our family treasure, so it’s yours too, Mom.”
Then Homoi stood up and thoroughly washed his face with six large dewdrops from the tips of lily of the valley leaves at the house entrance.

“Sure thing.”
“This is our family’s treasure, so it’s yours, Mom.”
Then Homoi stood up and took about six large dewdrops from the tips of the lily of the valley leaves at the house entrance, thoroughly washing his face.

After finishing his meal, Homoi blew onto the gem a hundred times and polished it a hundred times with a bullfinch feather.
Then he carefully wrapped it in the bullfinch’s breast feathers, placed it in the agate box that had held the rabbit’s eyeglasses, and entrusted it to his mother.
And then he went outside.

The wind blew, and the dew on the grass scattered in droplets.
The bellflowers rang the morning bell—
“Clang, clang, clankety-clank, clinkety-clink,” they chimed.

Homoi bounced along to the birch tree.

Then, from the opposite direction, an old wild horse approached.
Homoi became a little scared and was about to turn back when the horse bowed politely and said.

“Are you Lord Homoi?”
“I hear that the Shell Fire has now been bestowed upon your lordship. I offer my most sincere congratulations.”
“It is said that twelve hundred years have passed since the Shell Fire last came into the possession of the beasts.”
“Indeed, even I had the honor of hearing that tale this very morning and shed tears.”
The wild horse burst into tears.

Homoi was dumbfounded, but as the wild horse wept so copiously, he found himself unwittingly drawn in, his nose prickling faintly. The horse produced a pale yellow handkerchief large as a wrapping cloth, wiped its tears, and spoke reverently: “Your lordship is our benefactor. Pray take utmost care of your noble person.” Then it bowed courteously and walked away.

Homoi wandered off in a muddle of confused elation until he reached the walnut tree’s shade. There sat two young squirrels amiably sharing white rice cakes, but at Homoi’s approach they sprang up in alarm, frantically adjusting their collars with eyes darting wildly as they gulped down mouthfuls.

Homoi, as he always did, greeted them, “Squirrel-san. Good morning,” but both squirrels had frozen stiff and couldn’t utter a single word. Homoi panicked and said, “Squirrel-san. Would you like to go somewhere and play together again today?” When he said this, the squirrels widened their eyes perfectly round as if exclaiming “How absurd!”, exchanged glances, then suddenly turned away and desperately fled.

Homoi was left utterly dumbfounded.
And with his face turning pale, he returned home,

“Mom.
“Everyone’s acting kind of strange somehow.”
When Homoi said, “Squirrel-san and the others have already excluded me,” his mother laughed and replied.

“Of course they would. You’ve become such a proper person now, so squirrels would be ashamed.”
“So you must be very careful so that you won’t be laughed at later.”

Homoi said.

“Mom.
That’s perfectly fine.
Then does that mean I’ve already become a general?”

Mother also looked pleased,

"Oh, I suppose so," she replied.

Homoi danced for joy.

"Excellent!
Excellent!
Everyone is already my subordinates.
I'm not scared of foxes anymore or anything!
Mom.
I'll make Squirrel-san a major general.
As for the horse... I think I'll make the horse a colonel."

Mother said with a laugh,

"That’s true, but you shouldn’t get too full of yourself," she replied.

Homoi, “I’m fine. Mom, I’ll just go out for a bit,” he said, and hopped out into the field.

“I’ll be fine. Mom, I’m just going out for a bit,” he said, and hopped out into the field.
Then, right before his eyes, the mean fox dashed by like the wind.

Homoi, trembling all over, mustered his courage and shouted.

“Wait.”
“Fox.”
“I am the general, you know!”

The fox, startled, turned around, his face paling as he replied.

“Hai. I am well aware.”
“Hai, hai.”
“Is there something you require?”

Homoi declared as vigorously as he could manage.

“You’ve tormented me quite a bit. This time, you’re my subordinate!”

The Fox looked as though he might faint, raised a hand to his head, and replied.

“Hai, I have no excuse. Please, I humbly beg your forgiveness.”

Homoi quivered with joyful excitement.

“I’ll grant you special forgiveness. I’ll make you a second lieutenant. Work hard for me.”

The fox delightedly spun around four times or so.

“Yes, yes!
“I am most grateful.”
“I will do anything you command.”
“Shall I go steal some corn for you?”

Homoi replied.

“No, that’s a bad thing.”
“You must not do such a thing.”

The fox scratched his head and replied.

“Hai, hai.”
“From now on, I will never do such a thing again.”
“I will await your orders for anything.”

Homoi said.

“Right. If I need you, I’ll call, so go over there.”
The fox spun around and around, bowed, and went off in that direction.

Homoi was overjoyed.
As he wandered the field back and forth, muttering to himself, laughing, and thinking of all sorts of delightful things, the sun had already sunk behind the birch trees like a shattered mirror, so Homoi hurried home.

Homoi’s father had also returned home, and that evening there were all sorts of delicious dishes.
Homoi had a beautiful dream that night as well.

*

The next day, Homoi took a basket and went out into the field after being ordered by his mother, muttering to himself as he gathered lily of the valley fruits.

_Hmph_, _how absurd for a general to be gathering lily of the valley fruits._
_If someone were to find me_, _they’d surely do nothing but laugh._
_I wish the fox would come._

Then, something rustled beneath his feet.
When he looked, the moles were burrowing through the soil, trying to move away bit by bit.
Homoi shouted.

“Moles, moles, mole-rats—do you know how great I’ve become?”

The moles spoke from underground.

“Is that you, Mr. Homoi?”
“We are well aware.”

Homoi declared boastfully.

“Is that so?
“Then that’s fine.”
“I’ll make you sergeants.”
“In return, could you work a bit for me?”

The moles asked timidly.

“Hai, what would you have us do?”

Homoi abruptly—

“Gather the lily of the valley fruits for me.”

The moles, sweating cold sweat underground and scratching their heads,
said, “Well now, we’re truly most apologetic, but we’re entirely unsuited for work in bright places.”

Homoi got angry and,

"Is that so? Then fine! I won't ask you! Just wait and see what happens later! That's terrible!" he shouted.

The moles,
“Please, we beg your forgiveness! If we are exposed to the sun for too long, we will die,” they pleaded earnestly.

Homoi flailed his legs,
“Fine. That’s enough. Just stay quiet,” he said.

At that moment, five squirrels scampered out from the shadow of the elderberry thicket across the way.
And then, bobbing their heads up and down before Homoi, they said:

“Lord Homoi, please allow us to gather the lily of the valley fruits.”

Homoi—

“Of course!”
“Go ahead and do it.”
“You’re all my majors now.”

The squirrels, giggling gleefully, set to work.

At that moment，six colts came running from the other side and stopped before Homoi.
The largest one among them，
“Lord Homoi，please grant us some task as well，” he humbly requested.
Homoi was utterly delighted，

“Of course! I’ll make you all my colonels. When I call, be sure to come running,” he said.
The colts also leaped for joy.

The moles pleaded tearfully from underground.

“Lord Homoi, please assign us too some task that we can do.”
“We’ll do it splendidly, we promise.”

Homoi was still angry, so
“I don’t need you! If the fox comes now, he’ll make all your companions suffer terribly! Just wait and see,” he said, stamping his foot.

Underground fell utterly silent, not a single voice remaining.

Then the squirrels gathered heaps of lily of the valley fruits by evening and noisily carried them to Homoi’s house.

Mother came out startled by the commotion and said:

“Oh my, what’s happened here, Squirrel-san?”

Homoi interjected from the side,

“Mother. Look at my skills! I can still do anything at all!” he said.

Homoi’s mother remained silent, lost in thought without offering a reply.

Just then, Homoi’s father returned home, stared intently at the scene, and spoke.

“Homoi, don’t you have a bit of a fever? I hear you’ve been terrorizing the moles quite severely. At their home, everyone’s already crying like they’ve gone mad. And who on earth is going to eat all these fruits anyway?”

Homoi burst into tears. The squirrels stood watching for a while with pitying looks, but finally they all sneaked away.

Homoi’s father spoke again.

“You’re done for. Take a look at the Shell Fire. It must have clouded over by now.”

Homoi’s mother too was crying, and while quietly wiping her tears with her apron, she took out that agate case containing the beautiful jewel from the cupboard.

Homoi’s father received the case, opened the lid, and was astonished.

The jewel was burning a much deeper red and far more rapidly than it had been the night before last.

Everyone was utterly entranced.
Homoi’s father silently passed the jewel to Homoi and began eating his meal.
Homoi’s tears too eventually dried, and everyone once again began laughing cheerfully, ate their meal together, and rested.

*

Early the next morning, Homoi went out to the field again.

Today was also a fine day.
However, the lilies of the valley whose fruits had been taken no longer rustled their leaves with their former *sharin-sharin* chime.

From the edge of the blue field far, far beyond, the fox came running desperately and stopped in front of Homoi,

“Mr. Homoi.”
“I heard you made the squirrels gather lily of the valley fruits yesterday.”
“How about this?”
“Today I’ll go find something good for you.”
“It’s yellow and billowing—pardon my frankness, Mr. Homoi, but you’ve never laid eyes on anything like it before.”
“And then, I heard you declared you’d punish the moles yesterday.”
“Since they’re born layabouts, why don’t we just drive them into the river?” he said.

Homoi said,
“Pardon the moles.”
“I already forgave them this morning.”
“But bring a little of that delicious food for me to try.”

“Got it, got it.”
“Please wait just ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes it is,” said the fox as he dashed off like the wind.

Homoi shouted loudly there:
“Moles, moles, mole-rats.”
“I’ll forgive you now.”
“You don’t have to cry anymore.”

The ground below was utterly silent.

The fox came running over from the distance again.
And,
“Here you go.
This here’s what they call heavenly tempura, you see.
The finest part,” he said while presenting the square bread he had stolen.
When Homoi tried a bite, it turned out to be truly delicious.
Then, to the fox,

“What kind of tree does this grow on?” When Homoi asked this, Fox turned aside, gave a scornful “Hn” of a laugh, and then said:

“It’s called the kitchen tree, you see.”
“The Daidokoro tree,” he said.
“If you like it, I’ll bring it for you every day.”

Homoi said:
“Then make sure to bring three every day for me. Alright?”

The fox blinked his eyes as though he thoroughly understood and said:
“Understood!”
“It will be done as you wish.”
“In return, you mustn’t stop me from taking my chickens.”

“Sure thing,” Homoi replied.

Then the fox,

“Then I’ll go bring two more for today’s portion,” he said as he dashed off like the wind again.

Homoi was thinking about when he would take it home and give it to Father and Mother.

Even Father doesn't know anything this delicious.
I'm truly such a dutiful son.

The fox brought two square breads in his mouth, placed them before Homoi, hastily said “Goodbye,” and ran off like the wind again.
Homoi,

Muttering, "What on earth does that fox do every day?" Homoi returned home.

Today，Father and Mother were drying lily of the valley fruits in the sun in front of their home.

Homoi said,
“Father, I’ve brought something good. Shall I give it to you? Come on, try a little,” as he presented the square bread.

Father received it, took off his glasses, examined it thoroughly, and then said:

“You got this from the fox.”
“This is stolen stuff.”
“I won’t eat this!” And then Father suddenly snatched back the portion he had been about to give to Homoi’s mother, hurled both his share and hers onto the ground, and stomped them into the dirt.

Homoi burst into tears.
Mother also cried along with him.

Father walked around here and there,

“Homoi, you’re finished.
Look at the Shell Fire.
It’s surely already shattered,” he said.

Mother took out the box while crying.
The Shell Fire gem, bathed in the sunlight, burned so beautifully it seemed as if it might ascend to heaven.

Father handed the Shell Fire gem to Homoi and fell silent.
Homoi too looked at the gem and eventually forgot his tears.

＊

The next day, Homoi went out to the field again.

The fox came running and immediately handed over three square breads.
When Homoi hurriedly placed them on the kitchen shelf and returned to the field, the fox was still waiting and said.

“Mr. Homoi.
“Why don’t we do something amusing?”
Homoi,

“What kind of thing?” Homoi asked.

“How about punishing the moles?”
“They’re truly the blight of this field, I tell you.”
“And they’re lazy too, I tell you.”
“If you’ll permit it just this once, today I’ll handle bullying a mole myself. You just stay quiet and watch.”
“That should suffice.”

Homoi,

“Hmm, if they’re vermin, then it’s all right to torment them a bit,” said Homoi.

The fox spent some time sniffing around the ground and stomping here and there, until at last he overturned a large rock.
There beneath it huddled eight moles—parents and children—all trembling violently.
The fox,

“Run! If you don’t run, I’ll bite you to death!” said the Fox, stomping his feet.
The mole family,
“Please forgive us! Please forgive us!”
“Please forgive us! Please forgive us!” they pleaded while trying to flee, but since they were all blind and their legs wouldn’t move, they could only claw helplessly at the grass.
The smallest child had already lain on their back and seemed to have fainted.
The fox gnashed his teeth.
Homoi, too, involuntarily—
“Tsk! Tsk!” he hissed, stomping his feet.

At that moment,

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” came a booming voice, and the Fox spun around four times before dashing away in a flash.

When they looked, Homoi’s father was there.

Father hurriedly put all the moles back into their hole, replaced the stone exactly as it had been, then grabbed Homoi by the scruff of his neck and dragged him resolutely home.

Mother came out crying and clung to Father.
Father spoke.

“Homoi. You’re finished.”
“Today of all days, the Shell Fire has shattered!”
“Show it to me!”

Mother brought out the box while wiping her tears.
Father opened the lid of the box and looked.

Then Father was utterly astonished.
The Shell Fire had never been as beautiful as it was today.
It was as if red, green, blue, and countless other fires were fiercely waging war—detonating landmines, sending up smoke signals, flashing streaks of lightning, spilling rivers of luminous blood—then in an instant, an aquamarine flame would abruptly engulf the entire gem, only to transform next into a field of poppies, yellow tulips, roses, and firefly vines swaying in the wind.

Homoi’s Father silently handed the gem to Homoi.
Homoi soon forgot even tears and gazed at the Shell Fire in delight.

Mother finally relaxed and prepared lunch.

Everyone sat down and ate the square bread.

Father said.
“Homoi. You have to be careful of the fox.”

Homoi said.

“Father, it’s all right.”
“The fox isn’t anything to fear.”
“I have the Shell Fire, you see.”
“Do you really think that gem could ever shatter or cloud over?”

Mother said.

“It’s truly a wonderful gem, isn’t it?”

Homoi said proudly,

"Mother.
"I'm fated by birth to never be separated from that Shell Fire.
"No matter what I do—how could the Shell Fire ever fly away somewhere? Such a thing couldn't happen!
"Besides—I polish it with a hundred breaths every single day!"

"I hope that holds true," Father said solemnly.

That night, Homoi had a dream.
He was standing on one leg atop a high, high cone-shaped mountain.
Homoi woke up startled and crying.

＊

The next morning, Homoi went out to the field again.

Today, a gloomy mist clung damply in the air.
The trees and grass stood utterly silent.
Not even the beech tree stirred a single leaf.

Only that morning bell of the Lily of the Valley resounded higher and higher into the sky.

“Clang! Clang! Clang-echo-clang! Clang-clang-clang!”
The final sound returned from afar with a resounding clang.

And then Fox came carrying three square breads and wearing knee-length shorts.

“Fox.”
“Good morning,” said Homoi.

Fox, with an unpleasant smile,

“Well now, yesterday sure gave me a shock.”
“Mr. Homoi’s father is quite stubborn, isn’t he?”
“But you know what?”
“His mood must’ve improved right away.”
“Today let’s do something real fun.”
“Do you dislike zoos?” said the Fox.

Homoi said,
“Nah. Don’t dislike ’em,” said Homoi.

The Fox took out a small net from his breast pocket.
And then,
“Look, if you set this up, it’ll catch dragonflies, bees, sparrows, shrikes—even bigger ones too.
Why don’t we gather those and make a zoo?” said the Fox.

Homoi briefly imagined that zoo's scenery and found it irresistibly amusing.
So,

“Let’s do it.”
“But are you sure that net can catch them?” said Homoi.

The Fox, looking thoroughly amused,

“Of course it will work. You go put that bread away quickly.”
“In the meantime, I’ll have already gathered about a hundred,” said the Fox.

Homoi hurriedly took the square bread, returned home, placed it on the kitchen shelf, and then hurried back again.

When he looked, Fox had already completely set up the net on a birch tree in the mist and was laughing with his mouth wide open.

“Ha ha ha ha, take a look.”
“I’ve already caught four of them!”

The Fox pointed at a large glass box—where he had gotten it from—and said.

Truly, inside it were a jay, a bush warbler, a red sparrow, and a siskin—four birds fluttering about.
But when they saw Homoi’s face, they all suddenly fell silent, as if reassured.

The bush warbler said through the glass.

“Mr. Homoi.”
“Please use your power to save us.”
“We were caught by Fox.”
“Tomorrow we will surely be eaten.”
“I beg of you.”
“Mr. Homoi.”

Homoi immediately tried to open the box.

Then，Fox furrowed his brow with dark wrinkles，narrowed his eyes，and yelled．

“Homoi！Watch out！Try to lay even a hand on that box—I’ll devour you！You thief！”

It looked as though his mouth might split open sideways．

Homoi was so frightened that he dashed straight home.
That day Mother had gone out to the field and wasn't at home.

His heart pounding fiercely, Homoi took out the Shell Fire's box and opened its lid.

It still blazed like fire.
Yet perhaps it was his imagination - a tiny white haze, as if pricked by the smallest needle tip, lingered within.

Homoi couldn't stop fretting over it.
Following his usual routine, he huffed breath onto it and gently polished the surface with bullfinch breast feathers.

However, he just couldn’t get rid of it.
At that moment, Father returned home.
And seeing that Homoi’s complexion had changed, he said.

“Homoi. Has the Shell Fire become cloudy? Your complexion looks terrible.” He laughed as he held the gem up to the light. “Let me see it.”

“Oh, it’ll come right off. If anything, the yellow flame’s burning brighter than ever! Here—give me some bullfinch feathers.” Father began polishing earnestly. Yet far from clearing, the cloudiness seemed only to grow larger.

Mother returned home.
Then, without a word, she took the Shell Fire from Father, held it up to examine it through the light, sighed deeply, and then blew on it herself before polishing it.

Indeed, all of them did nothing but sigh silently as they took turns polishing it with desperate earnestness.

Evening came.
Father stood up as if suddenly noticing something,

“Well, let’s eat dinner. Let’s try soaking it in oil overnight. That’s what they say works best,” he said.
Mother was startled, “Oh, I forgot to prepare dinner. I haven’t made anything at all. Shall we just eat the lily of the valley fruits from two days ago and this morning’s square bread?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Father said.
Homoi sighed, put the gem into the box, and stared intently at it.

Everyone finished their meal in silence.

Father,

“Let me get the oil out for you,” he said while taking down the bottle of kaya nut oil from the shelf.

Homoi took it and poured it into the box containing the Shell Fire.
Then they turned off the light and everyone went to bed early.

＊

In the middle of the night, Homoi woke up.

And timidly got up and gently looked at the Shell Fire by his pillow.
The Shell Fire shone silver in the oil, like a fish’s eyeball.
The red fire was no longer burning.

Homoi burst into loud sobs.

Homoi’s father and mother were startled awake and turned on the light.

The Shell Fire had become exactly like a lead ball.
Homoi, crying, told his father about the fox’s net.

Father, in a great flurry, hurriedly changed his clothes while saying.

“Homoi. You’re a fool.”
“I was a fool too.”
“Didn’t you save that lark chick’s life and receive that gem?”
“And yet the day before yesterday, you were saying it was innate!”
“Come on, let’s go to the field.”
“The fox might still have his net set up.”
“You’ll fight the fox with your life on the line.”
“Of course, I’ll help too.”

Homoi stood up crying.
Homoi’s mother also cried and followed after the two of them.

The mist was falling pitter-patter, and dawn was already breaking.

The fox was still beneath the birch tree with his net set up.
Then, at the sight of the three of them, he curled his lips and laughed boisterously.

Homoi’s father shouted.

“Fox. You really had the nerve to deceive Homoi!”
“Now, let’s duel!”

The Fox said with a thoroughly villainous look.

“Hmph.”
“I could just kill three of you lot right here, but it’d be a waste if I got hurt.”
“I’ve got better things to eat.”

And then he tried to flee while carrying the box.

“Wait a minute!” Homoi’s father grabbed the glass box, causing the fox to stagger. In the end, the fox fled, leaving the box behind.

When they looked inside the box, there were about a hundred birds, all crying.
Inside were sparrows, jays, and bush warblers as a matter of course, along with a great big owl and even the parent and child larks.

Homoi’s father opened the lid.

All the birds flew out, touched their hands to the ground, and said in unison.

“Thank you very much. We are truly indebted to you time and again.”

Then Homoi’s father said,
“You’re welcome—we have no honor left to uphold.
We have ended up clouding the gem we received from your king.”

The birds all said at once.

"Oh my, what on earth has happened? We would very much like to have a look at it."

"Please, this way," said Homoi’s father as he guided everyone toward the house.
The birds trooped after him.
Homoi followed dejectedly behind everyone, crying as he went.
The owl strode with heavy, plodding steps while occasionally glaring back at Homoi with fierce eyes.

Everyone entered the house.
The birds filled every place in the house—the floors, shelves, desks, and all.
The owl rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner and kept clearing his throat with “Ahem, ahem.”

Homoi’s father took up the Shell Fire, which had become an ordinary white stone,

“It’s already in this state. Please laugh at it as much as you can,” he said—and at that very moment, the Shell Fire let out a sharp crack and split into two.

No sooner had this happened than a fierce *crackle-crackle-crack* rang out, and before their eyes, it shattered into pieces like smoke.

Homoi let out an “Ah!” and collapsed at the entrance.
The powder had gotten into his eyes.
When everyone, startled, tried to approach him, crackling pichi-pichi-pichi sounds arose from all around as smoke gradually coalesced, forming several magnificent fragments until—with a decisive clack—two pieces interlocked, fully restoring the Shell Fire to its original form.
The gem blazed like volcanic eruption, glowed like sunset crimson, then whooshed out through the window with a trailing whistle.

The birds all lost interest; one by one, then two by two, they left until now only the Owl remained.
The Owl glared around the room while,

“Only six days it was.
Hoho—
Only six days it was.
Hoho—”

“Only six days it was.
Hoho—”

With a scornful laugh, he shrugged his shoulders and strode out.

Moreover, Homoi’s eyes had already turned as white and cloudy as the gem from earlier, and he could no longer see anything at all.

From beginning to end, Mother did nothing but cry.
Father crossed his arms and stood deep in thought, but before long, he gently patted Homoi’s back and said.

“Don’t cry.”
“This kind of thing happens everywhere.”
“You who’ve come to understand that are the most fortunate.”
“Your eyes will surely get better again.”
“I’ll take good care of you.”
“There now.”
“Don’t cry.”

Outside the window, the fog cleared and the lily of the valley leaves sparkled brightly, while the bellflowers—

The bellflowers rang the morning bell loudly with a "Clang, clang, clang-a-ling, clang-clang-clang."