Pathway to Japanese Literature

Long ago, in a certain town in India, a candy-selling old man would occasionally appear, tell the children amusing stories, and sell them delicious pure white candies. He wore a large black hat and black robes, growing a long white beard that flowed down his chest, appearing from somewhere only to disappear again to parts unknown. No one knew where he came from or what his story was, but everyone called him Old Man Sumitora. Because the white candy was so delicious and the stories so entertaining, the children always looked forward to Old Man Sumitora's visits.

“I cannot offer you the white candies, alas, but let me relate these amusing tales in full.”

I. The Story of Becoming a Magician

It was when I was fifteen years old.
At that time, having lost both father and mother with no siblings - I was all alone - so I was taken in by the uncle who ran a herbal medicine shop and worked as an apprentice.
At that time, a troupe of five or six magicians traveling through various lands came to my town.
In the square they set up a hut; when night fell they lit blazing lamps and struck bells and drums to put on boisterous performances.

I went to see it with my heart racing.
On the high stage at the front, people wearing garments embroidered with gold and silver patterns, their faces painted red or white, demonstrated various feats.
A single card would multiply into many within a palm before vanishing entirely.
From within a handkerchief burst forth a dove.
There was one who performed handstands while manipulating multicolored rings with their feet.
Another stood atop a large ball and danced while rolling it.
Then came tightrope walking and aerial somersaults...
All manner of other wondrous acts followed, drawing thunderous cheers from the crowd.
I became utterly spellbound and clapped until my palms stung.

Even after returning home, those things wouldn't leave my mind.
I thought about how enjoyable it would be to travel around various places while performing such interesting arts.
Moreover—as I had mentioned before—since my uncle's house was a pharmacy containing dried stems, leaves, and roots of various medicinal herbs gathered from across the world, traveling through different regions would allow me to conduct proper research on those plants.

After thinking it over thoroughly, I decided to try joining those magicians' troupe.
And the next day, I went alone to the magicians' hut.
They all looked bleary-eyed, having just gotten up.

"I want to meet the Boss," I said.

A portly man with bulging eyes came out from the back.
I requested, “Won’t you let me join your group?”
The Boss looked me up and down and inquired.

“Have you ever learned any magic tricks?”

“No.”

“How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

The Boss burst out laughing.

“No good, no good. We all served as apprentices and trained since we were little ones. Starting at fifteen’s already too late. Quit while you’re ahead.”

No matter how much I pleaded, the Boss wouldn't take me in.
At that, I grew somewhat irritated and muttered.

"He goes on about his worthless arts and mocks me with that 'starting at fifteen's too late' nonsense..."

The other men took offense at this and came charging at me, demanding, "What do you mean 'trivial tricks'?!"
I stood my ground and retorted that they were nothing but trivial tricks.
This finally forced matters into a physical challenge.

Finding myself cornered, I steeled my resolve to defeat them. "If you can manage it, try matching me at handstands," I challenged.

So we went outside, drew a line, and when I took my position at one end, three men lined up beside me doing handstands.
At the count of one, two, three, we set off.
However, no matter how skilled they were at handstands, since I was running on my feet, the outcome was clear.
I could win even when running slowly.
The men were chagrined.
And then they tried again.
The three men's handstand racing was truly impressive, but since I was running on my feet—even as a child—I won effortlessly.

Then it was decided we would have a sumo match this time.

As the man who had been doing handstands came charging at me, flailing his legs wildly, I spun around evading him while watching for an opening, then seized my chance to grab one leg and yanked hard to bring him down.
I brought down the second man in exactly the same way.
The third man suddenly clamped onto both legs and forced them downward.
They all went tumbling headfirst.

“No matter how skilled you are at handstands, you can’t beat a child like me.”

And I took out one copper coin and said, "Try changing this into a gold coin."
A man ran into the back and came out again.
He must have brought a gold coin.
He gripped my copper coin in one hand, and with a sharp exertion, the coin in his palm transformed into a gold coin.
Upon inspection, it proved to be a genuine gold coin.

“This is my money, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”
“The copper coin’s turned into gold, hasn’t it?”

“Well, thank you kindly.”
“Farewell.”

With those words, I started to leave while pocketing the gold coin.
“Hey now, hold on a moment.”

When I turned around at the call, the Boss stood there.
He showed no particular sign of anger and was grinning broadly.

“You’re impressive.”
“Making grown men do handstands, teasing them mercilessly, swapping copper coins for gold—you’ve got real promise.”
“I’ll hear you out properly.”

And so, wanting to see what potential I had, the Boss listened carefully to my story and even spoke together with my uncle.

Uncle gave me a large book about medicinal herbs.
Through that book, I came to investigate medicinal herbs wherever I went, learn magic tricks, and ended up traveling with the magicians.
After that, many things happened.

★

“What comes next will be a treat for another time. First, have some white candy.”

With those words, Old Man Sumitora would open the lid of the candy box.

II. The Story of Becoming a Saint

I joined the magicians' troupe and journeyed from place to place.
They taught me various arts, and within a year or two, I had become a proper magician in my own right.

During that time, my greatest delight lay in studying medicinal herbs through the book received from my uncle.
Inside my bag, dried herbs kept piling up in ever greater quantities.
Whenever I encountered sick people, I would try administering those herbs—they proved effective to a wondrous degree.

That appeared to have gradually become well-known.
There were times when those who came bringing the sick to receive medicinal herbs outnumbered those who came to see magic tricks.

And then there was a time when we were traveling through the Persian countryside. In one village lived a wealthy man's son said to be possessed by a demon, and they summoned me to see him. When I went there, he wore a terrifying demon-like expression and babbled nothing but nonsense. Though there's no medicine effective against demons, I tried giving him an extra-strong dose of calming herbs. To my surprise, it worked perfectly—after sleeping soundly for a full day, he recovered completely.

However, that was when the real trouble began.
Word had spread that an esteemed saint who had driven out demons was present, and all sorts of people came flocking to receive that blessed medicinal water.

When we visited a small coastal town, it seemed those rumors had spread even further—a huge crowd had gathered in front of our hut. Those who came to see magic tricks were few; most came requesting the esteemed Saint’s blessed holy water, bringing plenty of offerings—small bottles hung at their waists along with money and sweets.

We were at a loss.

“How about it—care to try being an esteemed Saint?” said the Boss.

“I refuse. That would be a problem,” I said with all my might.

Now, while we were discussing what to do, the sound of galloping horses reached us, and the hut’s door was pounded violently.

The Boss stood up and went out, but soon came rushing back in with a pale face.

“The Governor’s officials have come to welcome the esteemed Saint.”

We held our breath and exchanged glances.
But by that time, four people had already followed the Boss inside.
They were large, sturdy men wearing hats with gold braid and short swords hanging at their waists, their sunburned dark faces bearing eyes that gleamed fiercely.

“By the Governor’s order, we have come to welcome the esteemed Saint.
You must depart immediately.”

When they declared it so firmly, there was no way to refuse.
I dressed plainly and decided to take only the book of medicinal herbs and the bag.

And I exchanged heartfelt handshakes with the Boss and my companions.
I felt like this was a farewell that would last a long time.

Outside the hut stood four splendid horses lined up.
I was grabbed by one official and placed onto the second horse.
The book and bag were carried by the third person.
The men at the very front and rear held long spears.

The people in the square watched while whispering to each other.
At the entrance of the hut stood companions watching in silence.
Through that scene, the four horses broke into a gallop.

The horses continued galloping vigorously.
They exited the town, crossed the plain, passed through the forest, climbed over the hill, and advanced toward the desolate coast.
Somehow, the direction seemed different from where the Governor’s capital lay.
But no matter what I asked, the men remained silent with frightened faces.

In the shadow of a rocky mountain along the desolate coast stood a large house, where rough-looking men holding spears stood like sentries.
The horses came to a stop before it.

I was taken down from the horse, led into the house, and guided to the innermost room.

Various weapons were hung all over the walls, and a beautiful carpet was spread across the floor.
In the center sat a man cross-legged on a tiger skin, surrounded by five or six bearded men playing cards.

“Boss, everything went according to plan. I’ve brought the kid.”

And he made me sit there and said:

“Well? You get it now, don’t you?
“The claim about being the Governor’s officials is a lie—we’re pirates.
“From now on, I’ll make you one of us.
“Being a pirate’s way more exciting than some magician.”

And he called me a remarkable fellow for a kid.
“You’re just impersonating some half-baked Saint to scheme for coin, but that pathetic act won’t cut it. From now on, we’ll make you a proper esteemed Saint—so sit tight and stay quiet,” he declared.

After that, the pirates conferred among themselves.
They planned to dress me in magnificent robes embroidered with gold and silver, proclaim me as an esteemed Saint who would save the world, build a shrine to enshrine me within... then sell bottled water as blessed elixir... and make a fortune... That appeared to be their scheme.

The Captain atop the tiger skin merely nodded along to his underlings' discussions, remaining silent.
He was a large man who had completely shaved off his beard and grown out his hair long; though his strength seemed formidable, there was an unexpected gentleness about him.
He called me to his side and offered me delicious sweets.

I ate those sweets, took out four or five copper coins, and while deftly juggling them, suddenly flung one out of the room—then made as if to retrieve it in an attempt to escape. However, one of the underlings seized me by the scruff of my neck and yanked me back down.

“Not one step beyond this room.”

I resigned myself and sank into deep thought. If they made me into some saint and enshrined me in a hall, I’d be utterly helpless. I racked my brains for any clever stratagem that might work.

★

“What clever scheme I devised will have to wait for next time. For now, have some candy.”

Old Man Sumitora said this and sold us white candy.

Three: The Tale of the Black Ship

When I realized I’d become a pirate captive—soon to be fashioned into some saint and exploited for their profit-making scheme—despair washed over me.
Even if I’d tried escaping, a lone child like myself stood no chance.
And so I made my plea—a simple bid to stall for time.

"Would you grant me five days for training? If I’m made a saint so abruptly, it’ll raise suspicions when discovered. Please let me spend these five days learning how to properly become one."

Recognizing this as perfectly reasonable, the pirates consented.

However, as it was decided that a quiet place would be better for training, I was taken into the ship. In the shadow of that forest lay a cove where a jet-black painted ship had dropped anchor within its waters. I was ferried there by small boat and confined within a tiny room.

This black vessel was unmistakably the pirates' ship. The chamber where they locked me appeared to be none other than the pirate leader's own quarters—its walls draped with exquisite tapestries, floors covered in fine carpets, and cupboards fully furnished throughout. The sole peculiarity lay in the complete absence of weapons. They had likely removed them all to avoid frightening me.

And so confined within the pirate ship, all hope of escape vanished. There remained nothing but to idly pass time while feigning training. Day and night outside the room stood two guards. I had to eat my meals and sleep within that chamber, never permitted a single step beyond its threshold.

When night fell, the pirate leader would come to silently observe my condition. Then he would replace the previous guards with two underlings he had brought along, taking the former ones away.

Desolate days passed—two days, three days, four days.

The fifth day too ended without any helpers or saviors coming.
And later than usual, the pirate leader came.

“Tonight marks the final night of training.
I’ll stay with him, so you lot can head back.”

The Boss said this and sent his underlings back from the ship.
And he sat down before me and remained perfectly still.
I was at a loss.
I hadn’t actually been undergoing any training, so I kept worrying—what would I do if pressed about it?
However, the Boss suddenly said.

“You’ve been pretending to train while really just plotting to escape all along, haven’t you?”
“Well? Don’t you want to escape?”

Having been called out, I stumbled over my reply and hung my head.

“Fine.
“Leave it to me.”

The pirate leader left the room with those words.

I was left there alone and heaved a sigh of relief.
Since the leader had seen through my innermost thoughts, I thought I didn't know what would happen.
I thought I might be killed.
I even thought being killed would serve me right.

A long time passed.
I steeled myself and remained still.
The pirate leader never returned.
As this was happening, a strange noise suddenly erupted on the ship.
After continuing for a while, it grew quiet again, and then this time, the ship began to rock.
The sound of waves striking the ship’s hull could be heard.

“Come on, that’s enough now—out you come.”

When called out in a loud voice, I left the room.
It was a bright moonlit night.
The ship had hoisted its sails and was sailing across the expansive sea.
The pirate leader gripped the helm and beckoned me over.

“Now it’s just you and me left on this ship.”

The pirate leader said this and laughed brightly in the moonlight.
I had no idea what was going on.

At that moment, the pirate leader proceeded to tell me his story.
……He hadn’t been a pirate from the start.
When he was young, he had been captured by pirates and forced to join their ranks. As he came to surpass all others in both wisdom and strength, they gradually elevated him until finally making him their leader after the previous one died.
And as he continued being a pirate for a long time, growing increasingly disillusioned with it, when he saw me—just the same age as he had been when captured by pirates—he recalled his own past and resolved to help me escape while also breaking away from his pirate comrades himself.
As for them kidnapping me and dressing me up as a saint, that too had apparently been a scheme concocted by his comrades.

“I’ve had enough of being a pirate.
We’re escaping together from now on.
Don’t you worry.
This ship has nobody but us two now.”

And he laughed brightly again.

The story was so unexpected that I was at first dumbfounded, then teared up and clung to him.
He stroked my head with his strong hand.

“From now on, we’ll go far away.”
“I’ve brought the book and bag you cherish onto the ship.”
“There’s nothing to worry about at all.”

Amidst tears of joy, I clung to him and nodded repeatedly.

The ship had already left the land behind and was racing south across the moonlit expanse of the Indian Ocean.
I felt an indescribable sense of well-being.
I no longer had to worry about pirate comrades pursuing us.
Ample stores of food and water filled the ship.
He left the helm as it was, entrusting our course to the wind while telling me countless stories.
He was no longer the pirate leader but had become the 'Uncle' I relied on.

And this black ship carrying the two of us—where would it take us...?

★

“We’ll save where we went for the next story—why don’t you have some candy in the meantime.”

Old Man Sumitora said this and took out white candy for them.

IV. The Tale of Becoming Island Guests

We continued our enjoyable voyage.
We intended to sail straight across the ocean and emerge south of India.
Uncle Garuda, who had been the pirate leader, told me all sorts of interesting stories.
Then I learned to handle the sails and steer the rudder.

Up to that point, things had been fine, but Garuda, having been a pirate for many years and grown too accustomed to the sea, seemed to have let his guard down a bit. One day around noon, when he spotted a lone black cloud appearing on the distant horizon to the left, he cried out, “Oh no…” He said a storm was coming any moment now.

Indeed it was.
The lone black cloud swelled up before our eyes, shrouding and blotting out the sky until it became a raging storm.
There remained just the two of us aboard the ship.
We hastily lowered the sails and raised the rudder, left with no choice but to surrender ourselves to the elements.

The ship was tossed about by the great waves and swept away like a leaf.
We shut ourselves in the cabin and waited for the wind to subside.
But it showed no sign of abating.
Even when morning came, the storm continued.

On the evening of the second day, just as we thought the wind was beginning to die down, we were suddenly hurled upward like a ball.
With a tremendous crash, the hull creaked and groaned, and the ship flipped upside down.

We jumped outside.
Right before us lay a thickly wooded island, and upon its rugged rocks the ship ran aground, its bow thrust high into the air while its stern lay half-submerged in water.

“This ship’s done for. Let’s get to the island quick,” said Garuda.

However, though the island lay right before our eyes, between it and the ship stretched a deep abyss where jagged rocks rose and waves churned violently.
I could never swim across that.

“There’s something good.”
“Wait here.”

Garuda said that and picked up a large hemp rope.
Being a pirate ship, it had many thick ropes prepared.
He tied one end to the high ship’s bow and, holding the other end, leapt naked into the sea.
And then he swam to the opposite shore, tied the rope around the base of a rock there, and pulled it taut with all his strength.

I slapped my knees. Here, I felt the urge to show Uncle my tightrope act. I applied spit to the soles of my feet, steadied my nerves, and slid down along the rope spanning that deep abyss, maintaining perfect balance all the while.

Garuda caught me in his arms and roared with laughter.

“So you really were a magician’s apprentice.”
“Impressive.”
“With skills like that, let’s salvage the ship’s cargo while we’re at it.”

The idea was to stretch another rope from that cliff to the ship—this time pulling it taut toward the opposite side—tightrope walk across, and retrieve the ship’s cargo.
When I thought about it, that was a life-risking endeavor.
The space between the rocks was a deep abyss with raging waves.
Garuda swimming across to retrieve the rope was risking his life, but so was I tightrope walking over it.
The ship was being tossed by the waves and rocking violently; it could sink at any moment.
Even so, the two of us remained carefree.
We decided to try it.

Garuda swam to the ship to retrieve the rope.
I stood on the shore and waited for his return.

Before long, something went swishing past my face.
When I looked, a single large bow arrow had fallen into the sea.
When I turned around, at that very moment, another arrow came flying.
Without even time to dodge, I caught that arrow with my hand.
I caught the next arrow with my hand as well.

This too was a skill from my days as a magician.
When an opponent would throw a blade with a swish, I'd catch it by the handle with a snap.
Arrows from a bow were easier than blades.
Arrows came flying one after another from the shade of trees across the way.
I found it amusing and caught every last one of those arrows with my hands.

After catching about ten arrows and waiting for more to come, before I knew it Garuda had swum back and let out a booming laugh.

“Well done! That’s another magician’s skill of yours, huh?”

Then he stopped laughing, still standing naked, lifted a large rock, and glared toward the shade of the trees as he shouted.

“Who’s there? I’ll crush anyone who resists!”

At the very moment he shouted, he hurled a rock with a whoosh.
It was an incredible show of strength.
And then he lifted another rock.

At that moment, four or five men wearing nothing but cloths wrapped around their waists came running out from the shade of the trees with both hands raised high, then knelt down on the sandy ground there.
When we heard their story, it turned out they had thought we who disembarked from the black ship were pirates and resisted, but with their bow arrows being caught barehanded and boulders being hurled at them, they surrendered saying they stood no chance.

Thereupon, though the ship had been a pirate vessel, we made them understand we weren’t pirates, and furthermore had them assist in retrieving cargo from the ship. They carried the items that could get wet while swimming. I went from the cliff to the ship by traversing the stretched-out rope, then returned via tightrope walking across it with the cargo. It was a life-threatening task, but since everyone watched me in astonishment, I felt terribly proud.

My precious book and bag, various weapons, and the gold and silver treasures left on the ship—all had been retrieved.

Garuda put on a kimono and grasped a spear, I shouldered the medicinal herb book, and with the rest of the luggage carried by the people, we made our way to the village beyond the forest.
Though called a village, it was actually a small island with just about ten native houses lined up.
There we were kindly welcomed, and from that moment on became guests of the island.

And so, we were saved—but from the natives' perspective, we hadn't truly been saved yet.
Something interesting happened.
★

“Let’s save that story for next time. For now, have some candy.”

Old Man Sumitora said this and let them eat white candy.

V. The Tale of the Demon's Cave

The island we washed ashore on was a small one southeast of Arabia, measuring only about fifteen kilometers around, with just some ten native houses, and ships navigating nearby waters would call about once a month.

After resting leisurely at the natives' house, the next morning we went to see the ship.
However, there remained only two ropes stretched from prow to shore - the imposing black ship had been swallowed by the waves.

Uncle Garuda wore a look of profound sorrow.
"It's too wasteful to leave like this," he declared. "Even if we must break her apart, I mean to raise her up."
I felt exactly the same.
So we went to consult with the islanders.

The natives listened to our story and made strange faces.
When we pressed them further, they said:

“Well now, please wait seven days.”
“Until seven days pass, we cannot know whether your lives have truly been saved.”

Uncle and I exchanged glances.
Nothing could be more baffling than this.
Here we were clearly alive, yet told we wouldn’t know if we’d truly survived until seven days passed—what utter nonsense.
But no matter how much we asked for reasons, the natives refused to explain.
However much demonic strength Garuda might wield, however many magical tricks I might know, they only repeated pitifully that this matter lay beyond our control.

We had no choice but to wait through the seven-day period.
The natives were kind, and it was clear they had no intention of doing anything to us.
Besides, once seven days passed, it would become clear.

The natives were making handicrafts with various seashells, but since all were crudely made, Garuda taught them various interesting crafting methods. During that time, I enjoyed walking around the island. Along the coast grew thick banana and palm trees bearing beautiful fruits, while in the mountain forests and fields inland there were various rare herbs—many of them medicinal plants. Picking fruits to eat and examining medicinal herbs, I lost all track of time.

Even so, I grew conscious of the days passing—two days, three days…
When it came to the fifth and sixth days, starting with the household members we were staying with, all the natives looked pleased as they watched us.

Finally, seven days passed.

That morning, the natives all gathered and, urging “Come along now,” led us out.
The women and children following behind—having draped themselves in cloth more splendid than usual from shoulders to hips, adorned their hair with bird feathers, and carried bows, arrows, and various instruments—waved branches from flowering trees.
It was exactly like a festival.
No matter what we asked, everyone simply laughed with cheerful smiles.
We didn’t understand why, but followed along as directed.

Traversing the coast, rounding the cape, and following along a steep cliff path, we emerged onto a rocky area.
There was a large cave there, and inside its mouth lay beautiful sand spread across the ground.

The two of us were made to sit inside that cave.
The natives surrounded the perimeter.
The thought that we might be killed... briefly crossed my mind, and when I looked at Uncle Garuda, he too seemed slightly suspicious, his eyes sharp and fist clenched tight.
It seemed he intended to knock them down if it came to a fight.
Seeing that display of strength, I let out a sigh of relief.

At that moment, an elderly native wearing what looked like a crown of bird feathers on his head shouted in a terrifyingly loud voice toward the back of the cave.

“The Heavenly Deity has deigned to save the lives of these two.
O sea demon, your power holds no sway here now.
Begone, return to the ocean’s depths.”

And he swiftly turned around and extended both hands above our two heads.

Suddenly, drums and flutes were sounded, and at the same moment, the surrounding people began dancing in circles.
Women and children joined together, dancing in circles to the rhythm of drums and flutes.

This continued for some time, and at last we were permitted to stand up.

“With this, the ceremony is concluded.”

The elderly man wearing a feathered crown spoke these words and smiled at us.
Then he explained the reasoning.

Those caught in storms at sea were said to have drawn the sea demon’s attention.
Thus even if one washed ashore on the island, there could be no certainty of survival during those seven days.
Only when seven days had passed could salvation be assured.
This was why they conducted the demon-banishing ritual within that cave.

Then he added a warning that we must never enter this cave henceforth.
The cave was deep with unknowable reaches where a sea demon supposedly dwelled.
Those who had entered before had never returned.
Entry was strictly forbidden.
Peering inside revealed another large hole in its depths—pitch-dark and utterly silent—blocked by a wooden lattice.
But we had no time to investigate further.
After receiving this explanation from the elder,the natives swarmed around us with congratulations.They hoisted us aloft in celebration and carried us straight back to the village.

In the village, they held a celebratory feast throughout the day.

And from the next day onward, just as promised, the raising of the black ship commenced.
Since it lay sunken in a deep abyss, they couldn’t raise it whole. Instead, waiting for the tide to recede, they dove into the sea to dismantle it piece by piece before hauling it up.

While the ship was being salvaged, the two of us grew curious about that demon's cave and secretly plotted to explore it.
And we made an extraordinary discovery.

★

“We’ll save what we discovered for next time—let’s have some candy for now.”

Old Man Sumitora said that and took out some candy.

VI. The Tale of the Black Ship Hall

Uncle Garuda and I decided to explore the demon's cave, slipping away secretly while the natives were occupied with raising the black ship.

The cave interior lay hushed, its floor spread with beautiful sand, while a wooden lattice had been fitted across the dark opening at the back.
When we listened intently, from the pitch-dark depths came only a faint, indistinct reverberation.

We remained convinced no sea demons could exist.
Still taking precautions, we fastened daggers at our waists, thoroughly prepared our footwear, removed the wooden lattice, and ventured inside.

The hole was just large enough for one person to pass through by bending down.
Since I was nimble, I took the lead, lit the lamp, and quietly advanced.
Uncle Garuda followed behind carrying a thick stick.
The lamp’s light eerily illuminated the inside of the hole.
I said,

“Keep holding out the lamp as we go.”
“If the flame starts dying out, that means there’s bad gas—you’ve got to be careful.”

The narrow passage sloped slightly upward, appearing to continue endlessly.
As we proceeded, the path suddenly sloped downward steeply, and a faint glow began to shine from ahead.

“It’s getting brighter now.”
“There might be an exit.”

Even a deep, booming sound resembling waves reached our ears.
We mustered our energy and quickened our pace a little.
As we pressed onward, suddenly the path became a treacherous slope overgrown with moss that offered no secure footing. Even as we registered our predicament, our feet slid slickly across the surface—giving us no chance to react before we went tumbling down into a sunken hollow.

As I endured the violent collisions against my body and clenched my breath against the pain, a low groan sounded beside me. When I looked, Uncle Garuda had similarly fallen and lost consciousness. I forgot my own pain and tried to revive Uncle Garuda. He quickly came to his senses.

Thereupon, when we finally relaxed enough to survey our surroundings, both of us were so startled we couldn't speak.

The feeling at that moment was beyond anything words could convey. The place where we had fallen was a vast, spacious cave. On one side of the rock wall were scattered small crevices, beyond which appeared to be the sea—waves crashed against the openings, and through them streamed shafts of light. The countless lights within the cave coalesced into a hazy, bluish-tinged brightness. Illuminated by that brightness, here and there in the cave were things shining in beautiful colors of white, red, purple, and blue. They were all jewels—crystals, agates, jaspers, and more packed densely throughout. And at the water's edge of the cave, all sorts of beautiful shells lay piled high. It was a splendor like that of the Dragon Palace.

However, on the ceiling of that beautiful cave, several jet-black things were wriggling.
When we looked closely, they were terrifyingly large bats that looked about to attack us at any moment.
And in the corners of the cave, white human bones lay scattered in pieces.
They must have been bitten by the bats.

It was a vast, spacious cave, but aside from the hole we had fallen through, there was no exit anywhere.
From the rock crevices through which light streamed, as the sound of waves from outside boomed through, it made us feel all the more terrified.

After surveying the cave thoroughly, we exchanged glances.
Beautiful jewels and shells, terrifying bats, ominous human bones...

In any case, we had to get outside. However, having slid down so far, climbing back up seemed utterly impossible.

“With those acrobatic skills from your magician days, can’t you climb up here?”

Though Uncle Garuda said this, I saw no way to manage it. As we deliberated, I suddenly conceived a solution.

“Let’s try it.”

Near the cave entrance protruded a single rock. I joined Uncle’s belt with my own to fashion a rope, tied it to the rock’s edge, and resolved to swing across to leap toward the entrance. This time it was truly a life-risking endeavor, but I judged it preferable to dying from bat bites.

“Will you be alright?”

Uncle Garuda said.

“Ah, it’s nothing. I’ll try it.”

Grabbing the end of the rope, I ran while gathering momentum, using the acrobatic skills from my magician days to leap up with the strength of both hands and feet—the sheer desperation made it terrifying, but I managed to jump up to the cave entrance.

I made it.
Once that was done, there was no further trouble.
After fastening the rope to a rock inside the hole, Uncle Garuda too grabbed onto it and climbed up.
And passing through the dark, long tunnel, we were able to get outside.

Both of us were injured here and there.
To the islanders, we led them to believe we had slipped and fallen from the cliff, keeping the matter of the demon’s cave hidden for the time being.
And when five or six days had passed—with our injuries completely healed and the black ship, though shattered to pieces, having been hauled up from the sea—we told the islanders about the demon’s cave for the first time.

“It was because we hauled up the Black Ship from the sea that the sea demons got startled and fled from that cave.”

In that manner, we told them the story.
The islanders were quite reluctant to believe us at first, but when they finally prepared lanterns and rope ladders to come see the cave deep within the hole, their astonishment and delight were immense.

Then they built a storehouse with lumber from the black ship and stored there the beautiful jewels and shells retrieved from the cave.
That storehouse became the property of the entire island and came to be called Kurofune Hall.

Uncle Garuda taught the islanders how to craft jewels and shells, while I prepared medicines whenever they fell ill or got injured. Both of us became indispensable to the island, until before long we were like kings of the land.
And so a splendid house was built, and the two of us came to live there together.

★

“And then unforeseen things occurred—I went through all sorts of trials until ending up as this candy peddler—but since the tale would grow too lengthy, let’s stop the story here. Now then, why don’t you have some candy?”

Old Man Sumitora said this and offered them delicious white candy to eat.