Uraschimataro and the Turtle

Uraschimataro and the Turtle

From the Japanische Marchen und Sagen, von David Brauns (Leipzig:

Wilhelm Friedrich).

There was once a worthy old couple who lived on the coast, and supported

themselves by fishing. They had only one child, a son, who was their

pride and joy, and for his sake they were ready to work hard all day

long, and never felt tired or discontented with their lot. This son’s

name was Uraschimataro, which means in Japanese, ‘Son of the island,’

and he was a fine well-grown youth and a good fisherman, minding neither

wind nor weather. Not the bravest sailor in the whole village dared

venture so far out to sea as Uraschimataro, and many a time the

neighbours used to shake their heads and say to his parents, ‘If your

son goes on being so rash, one day he will try his luck once too often,

and the waves will end by swallowing him up.’ But Uraschimataro paid no

heed to these remarks, and as he was really very clever in managing a

boat, the old people were very seldom anxious about him.

One beautiful bright morning, as he was hauling his well-filled nets

into the boat, he saw lying among the fishes a tiny little turtle. He

was delighted with his prize, and threw it into a wooden vessel to

keep till he got home, when suddenly the turtle found its voice, and

tremblingly begged for its life. ‘After all,’ it said, ‘what good can

I do you? I am so young and small, and I would so gladly live a little

longer. Be merciful and set me free, and I shall know how to prove my

gratitude.’

Now Uraschimataro was very good-natured, and besides, he could never

bear to say no, so he picked up the turtle, and put it back into the

sea.

Years flew by, and every morning Uraschimataro sailed his boat into the

deep sea. But one day as he was making for a little bay between some

rocks, there arose a fierce whirlwind, which shattered his boat to

pieces, and she was sucked under by the waves. Uraschimataro himself

very nearly shared the same fate. But he was a powerful swimmer, and

struggled hard to reach the shore. Then he saw a large turtle coming

towards him, and above the howling of the storm he heard what it said:

‘I am the turtle whose life you once saved. I will now pay my debt and

show my gratitude. The land is still far distant, and without my help

you would never get there. Climb on my back, and I will take you where

you will.’ Uraschimataro did not wait to be asked twice, and thankfully

accepted his friend’s help. But scarcely was he seated firmly on the

shell, when the turtle proposed that they should not return to the shore

at once, but go under the sea, and look at some of the wonders that lay

hidden there.

Uraschimataro agreed willingly, and in another moment they were deep,

deep down, with fathoms of blue water above their heads. Oh, how quickly

they darted through the still, warm sea! The young man held tight, and

marvelled where they were going and how long they were to travel, but

for three days they rushed on, till at last the turtle stopped before

a splendid palace, shining with gold and silver, crystal and precious

stones, and decked here and there with branches of pale pink coral and

glittering pearls. But if Uraschimataro was astonished at the beauty of

the outside, he was struck dumb at the sight of the hall within, which

was lighted by the blaze of fish scales.

‘Where have you brought me?’ he asked his guide in a low voice.

‘To the palace of Ringu, the house of the sea god, whose subjects we all

are,’ answered the turtle. ‘I am the first waiting maid of his daughter,

the lovely princess Otohime, whom you will shortly see.’

Uraschimataro was still so puzzled with the adventures that had befallen

him, that he waited in a dazed condition for what would happen next. But

the turtle, who had talked so much of him to the princess that she had

expressed a wish to see him, went at once to make known his arrival.

And directly the princess beheld him her heart was set on him, and she

begged him to stay with her, and in return promised that he should never

grow old, neither should his beauty fade. ‘Is not that reward enough?’

she asked, smiling, looking all the while as fair as the sun itself. And

Uraschimataro said ‘Yes,’ and so he stayed there. For how long? That he

only knew later.

His life passed by, and each hour seemed happier than the last, when

one day there rushed over him a terrible longing to see his parents. He

fought against it hard, knowing how it would grieve the princess, but it

grew on him stronger and stronger, till at length he became so sad that

the princess inquired what was wrong. Then he told her of the longing he

had to visit his old home, and that he must see his parents once more.

The princess was almost frozen with horror, and implored him to stay

with her, or something dreadful would be sure to happen. ‘You will never

come back, and we shall meet again no more,’ she moaned bitterly. But

Uraschimataro stood firm and repeated, ‘Only this once will I leave you,

and then will I return to your side for ever.’ Sadly the princess shook

her head, but she answered slowly, ‘One way there is to bring you safely

back, but I fear you will never agree to the conditions of the bargain.’

‘I will do anything that will bring me back to you,’ exclaimed

Uraschimataro, looking at her tenderly, but the princess was silent: she

knew too well that when he left her she would see his face no more. Then

she took from a shelf a tiny golden box, and gave it to Uraschimataro,

praying him to keep it carefully, and above all things never to open it.

‘If you can do this,’ she said as she bade him farewell, ‘your friend

the turtle will meet you at the shore, and will carry you back to me.’

Uraschimataro thanked her from his heart, and swore solemnly to do her

bidding. He hid the box safely in his garments, seated himself on the

back of the turtle, and vanished in the ocean path, waving his hand to

the princess. Three days and three nights they swam through the sea, and

at length Uraschimataro arrived at the beach which lay before his old

home. The turtle bade him farewell, and was gone in a moment.

Uraschimataro drew near to the village with quick and joyful steps.

He saw the smoke curling through the roof, and the thatch where green

plants had thickly sprouted. He heard the children shouting and calling,

and from a window that he passed came the twang of the koto, and

everything seemed to cry a welcome for his return. Yet suddenly he

felt a pang at his heart as he wandered down the street. After all,

everything was changed. Neither men nor houses were those he once knew.

Quickly he saw his old home; yes, it was still there, but it had a

strange look. Anxiously he knocked at the door, and asked the woman who

opened it after his parents. But she did not know their names, and could

give him no news of them.

Still more disturbed, he rushed to the burying ground, the only place

that could tell him what he wished to know. Here at any rate he would

find out what it all meant. And he was right. In a moment he stood

before the grave of his parents, and the date written on the stone

was almost exactly the date when they had lost their son, and he had

forsaken them for the Daughter of the Sea. And so he found that since he

had deft his home, three hundred years had passed by.

Shuddering with horror at his discovery he turned back into the village

street, hoping to meet some one who could tell him of the days of old.

But when the man spoke, he knew he was not dreaming, though he felt as

if he had lost his senses.

In despair he bethought him of the box which was the gift of the

princess. Perhaps after all this dreadful thing was not true. He

might be the victim of some enchanter’s spell, and in his hand lay the

counter-charm. Almost unconsciously he opened it, and a purple vapour

came pouring out. He held the empty box in his hand, and as he looked he

saw that the fresh hand of youth had grown suddenly shrivelled, like the

hand of an old, old man. He ran to the brook, which flowed in a clear

stream down from the mountain. and saw himself reflected as in a mirror.

It was the face of a mummy which looked back at him. Wounded to death,

he crept back through the village, and no man knew the old, old man to

be the strong handsome youth who had run down the street an hour before.

So he toiled wearily back, till he reached the shore, and here he sat

sadly on a rock, and called loudly on the turtle. But she never came

back any more, but instead, death came soon, and set him free. But

before that happened, the people who saw him sitting lonely on the shore

had heard his story, and when their children were restless they used to

tell them of the good son who from love to his parents had given up for

their sakes the splendour and wonders of the palace in the sea, and the

most beautiful woman in the world besides.