CHAPTER XI.
THE WARRIOR-QUAILS.
In a delightful landscape in the midst of a thick wood stands thesummer residence of the Kisaki, with its pretty roofs of gilded bark.The thick foliage of the lofty trees seemed loath to make way for thoseglittering house-tops, which projected on every side of the palace,shading a broad veranda, whose floor was covered with carpets, andstrewn with silk and satin cushions worked in gold.
The prospect is not extensive, and the dwelling seems shut in by coolgreen vegetation. Emerald reeds flaunt their slender leaves likebanners on the breeze, uprearing silvery, flaky plumes. Orange-bushesbloom beside tall bamboos, and mingle their sweet-scented flowers withthe red blossoms of the wild cherry. Farther away, large cameliasclimb the trees; at their feet big red leaves, covered with lightdown, unfold beside tall heaths, so delicate, so airy, that they looklike tufts of green feathers. Above this first plane of verdure,palms, bananas, oaks, and cedars interlace their branches and form aninextricable network, through which the light filters, tinged with athousand varying hues.
A brook glides slowly over a bed of thick moss, and its crystal streamis slightly troubled by a water-hen of lovely plumage, who just rufflesit with her wings as she chases a dragon-fly, whose slim body flashesforth metallic reflections.
But more brilliant and more splendid than the flowers, the velvetymoss, or the silvery shadows on the stream, are the dresses of thewomen who sit on the veranda.
The Kisaki, surrounded by her favorite ladies and a few young lords,the noblest of the Court, is witnessing a quail-fight.
On account of the heat, the sovereign wears a light robe ofpigeon-colored silk gauze,--a shade of green which she alone has theright to use. In place of the three plates of gold which form hercrown, she has arranged in her hair three daisies with silver leaves.Over her left ear, from the head of a long pin buried in her hair,hangs, at the end of a slender gold chain, a huge pearl of rare beautyand perfect shape.
Two young boys, in costumes differing only in color, crouch upon theirheels, face to face, watching the contest between the pretty birds,ready to pick up the dead and bring forward fresh combatants.
"How little chance of winning I have," said a lord with an intellectualcast of countenance, "I, who dared to bet against my Queen!"
"You are the only one who was so bold, Simabara," said the Kisaki; "butif you win, I am sure that every one will bet against me in the nextfight."
"He is likely to triumph," said the Prince of Tsusima, husband of thebeautiful Iza-Farou-No-Kami.
"What!" cried the Kisaki, "have I so nearly lost?"
"See, your champion weakens!"
"Courage! one more effort! courage, little warrior!" said the Queen.
The quails, with bristling feathers and neck outstretched, paused for amoment, gazing motionless, each at the other, then sprang to the attackagain; one of them fell.
"Ah! all is over," cried the Queen, rising to her feet; "the bird isdead! Simabara has won."
Young girls now handed about sweetmeats and delicacies of variouskinds, with tea gathered on the neighboring mountains; and the sportsceased for a time.
Then a page approached the Kisaki, and told her that a messenger hadbeen waiting for some moments with news from the palace.
"Let him enter," said the sovereign.
The messenger advanced, and prostrated himself.
"Speak," said the Kisaki.
"Light of the World!" said the man, "the embassy from the Shogun hasarrived."
"Ah!" exclaimed the Kisaki. "And who are the princes that compose it?"
"The Princes of Nagato, Satsuma, Ouesougi, and Satake."
"It is well!" said the Kisaki, dismissing the messenger by a sign."These gentlemen will weary of waiting for an audience," she continued,addressing the princes grouped about her. "The Mikado, my divinemaster, is at the summer-palace with all his wives and his Court;the Dairi is almost deserted. Tsusima, go, seek out these princes,and conduct them hither; they shall share our sports. Let pavilionsbe prepared for them within the limits of the residence," she added,turning to her women.
Her orders were transmitted to the interior of the house, and thePrince of Tsusima, bowing profoundly, withdrew.
The Dairi was not more than half-an-hour's journey away from thesummer-palace, so that an hour was all-sufficient time to go and come.
"Prepare a fresh combat," said Kisaki. The fowlers cried aloud thenames of the combatants:
"Gold Spur!"
"Rival of Lightning!"
"Gold Spur is a stranger," said the sovereign. "I will bet on Rivalof Lightning; I consider him matchless: he killed Coral Beak, who hadslaughtered untold adversaries."
All the spectators followed the Queen's example.
"If that is so," she cried, laughing, "I will bet alone against youall; I will join myself to the fortunes of Gold Spur."
The struggle began. Rival of Lightning rushed forward with the speedwhich had won him his name. Usually, he disabled his foe at thefirst onslaught; but now he fell back, leaving a few feathers in hisantagonist's beak, the latter being untouched.
"Well done! well done!" was the shout on every side. "Gold Spur beginswonderfully well!"
Some of the noblemen squatted on their heels, to follow the fight moreclosely.
The birds closed for the second time. But nothing was to be seen excepta confused heap of quivering plumes; then Rival of Lightning fell withbleeding head, and Gold Spur proudly placed one foot upon the body ofhis conquered enemy.
"Victory!" cried the Kisaki, clapping her small milk-white hands. "GoldSpur is the monarch of the day; to him belongs the prize collar."
One of the princesses fetched a black lacquer box containing a goldring set with rubies and coral, from which hung a tiny crystal bell.
The victor was brought to the Queen, who, taking the ring in twofingers, put it round the bird's neck.
Other fights followed; but the Kisaki, strangely absent-minded, paidlittle heed to them. She listened to the myriad noises of the forest,and seemed annoyed by the babbling of the brook, which prevented herhearing distinctly a very faint and far-off sound. It might have beenthe slight clash of swords thrust into a noble's girdle, the crunchingof the sand on one of the paths beneath the tread of approachingguests, or the sudden snap of a fan rapidly opened and shut.
An insect, a passing bird, drowned this almost imperceptible sound.However it soon grew louder; everybody heard it. Cheerful voices weremingled with it.
"Here come the ambassadors!" said Simabara.
Soon after, they heard the clang of arms, as the Princes laid off theirweapons before appearing in the sovereign's presence.
Tsusima came forward from the interior of the house and announced thenoble envoys, who appeared in their turn, and prostrated themselvesbefore the Kisaki.
"Rise!" said the young woman hastily, "and learn the laws which governour little Court of Flowers. Ceremonious etiquette is banished fromit; I am regarded as an elder sister. Every one is free and at ease,and has no duty, but to devise fresh diversions. The watchword here ismirth."
The lords rose; they were soon surrounded, and questioned in regard torecent events at Osaka. The Kisaki cast a rapid glance at the Prince ofNagato. She was struck by the look of weakness imprinted upon the youngman's whole frame; but she surprised in his eyes a strange gleam ofpride and joy.
"He has read the verses that I gave him," she thought. "How foolish Iwas to write what I did!"
Still, she signed to him to approach.
"Rash man!" she cried, "why did you undertake a journey when you arestill so weak and ill?"
"You deigned to protect my life, divine Queen," said the Prince; "couldI longer delay coming to testify my humble gratitude?"
"It is true that my foresight saved you from death, but it did notsucceed in preserving you from frightful wounds," said the Queen. "Itseems as if all your blood had flowed from your veins; you are as paleas these jasmine-flowers."
She sho
wed him a blossoming spray which she held in her hand.
"You must have suffered greatly," she added.
"Ah! dare I confess to you," cried Nagato, "that to me physicalsuffering is a comfort? There is another and far more painfulwound,--that which is killing me, which leaves me no rest or peace."
"What!" said the Kisaki, disguising her profound emotion with a smile,"is this the way that you obey my wishes? Did you not hear me say thatgayety reigns here? Speak no more of death or sorrow; let your soulunbend beneath the balmy breath of this beautiful and invigoratingscene. You shall pass some days here; you shall see what a ruraland delightful life we lead in this retreat. We rival in simplicityour ancestors, the shepherds, who first pitched their tents on thissoil. Iza-Farou," she continued, addressing the Princess, who passedbefore the house just then, "I should like to hear a story; call ourcompanions, and put an end to their political debates."
Soon all the privileged people admitted to the intimacy of the Queenwere assembled. They went into the outer hall of the house. The Kisakiascended a low platform, covered with carpets and cushions, and halfreclined upon them. The women took their places on her left, the men onher right; and servants at once placed upon the ground, before each, asmall gold plate containing dainties and warm drinks.
Through all the open panels the scented air of the woods entered thespacious room, which was filled with a greenish light, reflectedfrom the neighboring trees. The walls were wonderfully decorated;fabulous animals, the bird Foo, the unicorn, and the sacred tortoisestood out in bold relief from a background of azure, gold, or purple,and a screen of _cloisonne_ enamel, in tints of turquoise and brown,described its zigzags behind the dais. There was no furniture, nothingbut thick mats, cushions, and satin hangings ornamented with birds,embroidered in circles of gold.
"I declare to you at the outset," said the Kisaki, "that I shallnot utter a word. I am seized with an overwhelming laziness andindifference. Besides, I want to hear stories, and not to tell them."
Loud protests were made against this announcement.
"I am not to be moved," said the Queen, laughing; "you shall not evenpersuade me to pronounce a few words of flattery when your stories aredone."
"Never mind!" cried Simabara; "I will tell the story of the wolfchanged into a young girl."
"Do! do!" exclaimed the women; "we like the title."
"An old wolf--"
"Oh! he was old, was he?" said a young princess, with a look ofcontempt.
"You know very well that to give shelter to a human soul, an animalmust be old."
"True! true!" cried the listeners; "go on!"
"An old wolf," said Simabara, "lived in a cave near a much travelledroad. This wolf had an insatiable appetite. He therefore frequentlyleft his cavern, went to the side of the road, and gobbled up apasser-by. But this mode of procedure was not at all to the tasteof the travellers, and they ceased to frequent that road; so thatlittle by little it became quite deserted. The wolf meditated long anddeeply, seeking a way to put an end to this state of things. Suddenlyhe disappeared, and every one supposed he was dead. Some bold peopleventured along the road, and there they saw a lovely young girl, whosmiled bewitchingly upon them.
"'Will you follow me, and rest in a cool, delightful spot,' she said.
"None thought of refusing; but no sooner had they left the road,than the young girl returned to her former shape of an old wolf, anddevoured the travellers; then she resumed her fair form and returned tothe roadside. From that day forth not a traveller has escaped the jawsof the wolf."
The princes loudly applauded this story; but the women protested.
"That is to say that we are dangerous traps hidden beneath flowers,"said they.
"The flowers are so beautiful that we shall never see the trap," saidthe Prince of Tsusima, with a laugh.
"Come!" said the Queen; "Simabara shall drink two cups of saki, forhurting the feelings of the women."
Simabara merrily drained the cups.
"Formerly," said Princess Iza-Farou, flashing a mischievous glance atSimabara, "heroes were plenty. There were Asahina, who could seize ineach hand a warrior in full armor and hurl him to a great distance;Tametomo, with his terrible bow; Yatsitsone, whose only shield was hisopen fan; and how many more! Their lofty deeds were the constant themeof conversation. It was said, among other things, that on one occasionSousige, the unrivalled cavalier, returning from a journey, saw severalof his friends crouching round a chess-board; he spurred his horseover, their heads, and the animal stood motionless on his hind feet inthe centre of the board. The players, struck dumb, thought that theknight had dropped from heaven. Nowadays I hear nothing to compare withthat."
"Good! good!" exclaimed Simabara; "you would infer that none of us arecapable of such a remarkable feat of horsemanship, and that the age ofheroes is passed."
"That is exactly the idea that I wished to convey," said Iza-Farou,bursting into laughter; "was I not bound to reply to your impudentwolf?"
"She had a right to avenge us," said the Kisaki; "she shall not bepunished."
"Flower-of-the-Reed knows a story, but she won't tell it!" cried aprincess, who had been whispering with her neighbor.
Flower-of-the-Reed hid her face behind the loose sleeve of her robe.She was a very young girl, and somewhat shy.
"Come, speak!" said the Kisaki, "and don't be alarmed; we have nothingin common with Simabara's wolf."
"Very well! This is my story," said Flower-of-the-Reed, suddenlyreassured. "In the Island of Yezo lived a young man and a maiden wholoved each other tenderly. They had been betrothed from their cradles,and had never been parted. The girl was fifteen years old, and theyoung man eighteen. The date of their marriage was soon to be fixed.Unhappily the son of a rich man fell in love with the girl, and askedher father for her hand; and he, heedless of his former promises, gaveit to him. The young couple pleaded in vain; the father was firm. Thenthe girl went to her lover in despair.
"'Listen!' said she; 'as we must be parted in this world, death shallunite us. Let us go to the tomb of your ancestors, and there killourselves.'
"They did as she proposed; they lay down upon the tomb and stabbedthemselves. But the rejected lover had followed them. When he no longerheard their voices, he approached and saw them stretched out side byside, motionless, hand in hand.
"While he bent over them, two white butterflies rose from the tomb andflew gayly upwards, fluttering their wings.
"'Ah!' angrily cried the jealous survivor, 'it is they! They haveescaped me; they escape into glory; they are happy! But I will followthem, even into heaven!'
"So saying, he seized the dagger which lay upon the tomb, and in histurn struck himself to the heart.
"Then a third butterfly rose into the air. But the others were faraway; he could never reach them.
"Even now, to this very day, if you look among the flowers, when springcomes back to us, you will see the two winged lovers pass, side byside. Look again; you will soon see the jealous one, who follows, butcan never overtake them."
"Indeed," said Iza-Farou, "butterflies are always grouped in that way:two flutter about together, and a third follows them at a distance."
"I have noticed that peculiarity too, without knowing the reason forit," said the Kisaki. "The story is pretty; I never heard it before."
"The Prince of Satsuma must tell us something," said Flower-of-the-Reed.
"I!" exclaimed the old man in some alarm; "but I don't know anystories."
"Yes! yes! you know plenty," exclaimed the women; "you must tell usone."
"Then I will relate an adventure which happened not long since to thePrince of Figo's cook."
This announcement provoked a general outburst of merriment.
"You will see," said Satsuma, "you will see that this cook had a gooddeal of wit. In the first place, he is very skilful at his trade, whichis not a thing to be despised; and moreover he pays extreme attentionto the minutest details of his work. A few days ago, however, at afeast to w
hich I went, the servants brought in a bowl full of rice anduncovered it before the Lord of Figo. What was the latter's surprise tosee in the middle of the snowy rice a black insect, quite motionless,because it was cooked! The Prince turned white with rage. He summonedthe cook; and seizing the ignoble insect with the tips of his ivorychopsticks, he presented it to the fellow with a terrible look. Therewas nothing left for the unfortunate servant but to rip himself up asspeedily as possible. But it seemed that that operation was not at allto his liking; for, approaching his master with every sign of the mostlively joy, he took the insect and ate it, pretending to think thatthe Prince did him the honor to offer him a taste of the repast. Theguests began to laugh at this display of quick wits. The Prince of Figohimself could not help smiling, and the cook was rescued from death."
"Good! good!" cried all the listeners; "there's a story which cannotoffend any one."
"It is Nagato's turn," said Tsusima, "he must know delightful stories."
Nagato started as if aroused from a dream; he had heard nothing,noticed nothing, absorbed as he was in the ecstatic contemplation ofthe goddess whom he adored.
"You want a story?" he asked, looking at the company as if he saw themfor the first time.
He reflected for a few seconds.
"Very well; you shall have one," he said.
"There was once a tiny pond, born upon a day of storm and tempest. Itwas formed upon a mossy bed, and violets and pretty flowering-shrubssurrounded it and bent over it. The clouds, its kindred, had not yetquite dispersed, when the birds came, dipping the tips of their wingsin its waters, and delighting it with their songs. It was happy, andrejoiced in life, finding it good. But soon the clouds vanished, andsomething marvellously dazzling appeared high overhead. The watersparkled; diamond-like ripples traversed its surface; it was changed toa magnificent casket of jewels. But the clouds came back, the visiondisappeared. What sorrow then, and what regrets! The pond found no morepleasure in the songs of the birds; he despised the reflections castupon his bosom by the flowers on his shores; everything looked dark andugly to him. At last the sky cleared again, and this time for a longperiod. The bright wonder reappeared; the pond was again penetratedwith warmth, splendor, and joy; but he felt that he was dying beneaththose golden darts, which grew more and more fiery. Yet if a lightbranch threw its shadow over him, if a fine mist sprang up and servedhim as a shield, how he cursed them for delaying his deliciousannihilation for one moment! The third day he had not one drop of waterleft: the pond had been swallowed by the sun."
This tale plunged the princesses in sweet reveries. The men declaredthat Nagato had invented a new form of story-telling, and that hisimprovisation ought to be put into poetry.
The Queen, who understood that the Prince spoke for her ear alone,almost involuntarily threw him a look full of melancholy pleasure.
The day neared its close. Two princesses now knelt before the Kisaki,to take her orders for the next day's diversions.
"To-morrow," said she, after a few moments' consideration, "we willhave a rustic breakfast and a poetic contest in the western orchard."
The party soon broke up, and the embassy was conducted to thepavilions, embowered in shrubs and flowers, which had been assigned toit.