Ancient Tales and Folk-Lore of Japan Part 4

When all were clear of the burning ma.s.s the Daimio suddenly remembered that his t.i.tle-deeds would be lost, and that such a disaster would be dangerous for his family. Realising this, he jumped from his horse, and was about to dash back to try and recover them; but his retainers held him, fearing that he would die.

Okawa, hearing this, thought with delight that now an opportunity had come to him to save his new master and pay him for the kindness to himself and Kazuye. He rushed into the burning ma.s.s, and, having broken open the iron safe, seized the valuable doc.u.ments. Then he found escape impossible. He was cut off by fire on all sides, and plainly saw that both he and the papers must be burned. At this moment a thought came to him. Though he must be burned, possibly his body might save the doc.u.ments. Drawing his short sword, he deliberately disembowelled himself, and thrust the roll of papers into his stomach. Then he flung himself on the flaming floor and died. The fire went on. Poor Okawa was charred beyond recognition.

When the fire was over his body was recovered, and inside the roasted corpse was found the blood-stained roll of papers on which the Hosokawa family depended. From that time on, the doc.u.ment has been called 'Hosokawa no chi daruma'--the blood-stained doc.u.ment of the Hosokawas.

Footnotes.

71:1 Told to me by Mr. Matsuzaki, and said to be perfectly true, the doc.u.ment in question being in possession of the present Prince Hosokawa.

15. Ishidomaro Meets His Father, But Fails to Identify Him For Sure.

XII THE STORY OF KATO SAYEMONA 1.

IN the days when Ashikaga was Shogun there served under him a knight of good family, Kato Sayemon, of whom he was especially fond. Things went well with Sayemon. He lived in what might almost be called a palace. Money he possessed in plenty. He had a charming wife who had borne him a son, and, according to old custom, he had many others who lived as wives within his mansion. There was no war in the land.

[paragraph continues] Sayemon found no trouble in his household. Peace and contentment reigned. He enjoyed life accordingly, by feasting and so forth. 'Oh that such a life could last!' thought he; but fate decreed otherwise.

One evening, when Sayemon was strolling about in his lovely garden, watching the fireflies and listening to singing insects and piping toads, of which he was extremely fond, he happened to pa.s.s his wife's room and to look up.

There he saw his dear wife and his favourite concubine playing chess ('go,' in j.a.panese). What struck him most was that they appeared perfectly happy and contented in each other's society. While Sayemon looked, however, their hair seemed to rear up from behind in the shapes of snakes which fought desperately. This filled him with fear.

Sayemon, in amazement, stealthily approached in order to see better; but he found the vision just the same. His wife and the other lady, when moving their men, smiled at each other, showing every sign of great courtesy; nevertheless, there remained the indistinct outlines of their hair a.s.suming the forms of fighting snakes. Hitherto Sayemon had thought of them as almost sisters to each other, and so outwardly had they in fact appeared; but, now that he had seen the mysterious sign of the snakes, he knew that they hated each other more than could be understood by a man.

He became uneasy in his mind. Until then his life had been rendered doubly happy because he thought his home was peaceful; but now, he reflected, hatred and malice must be rampant in the house. Sayemon felt as if he were a rudderless boat, being drawn towards a cataract, from which no means of escape seemed possible.

He spent a sleepless night in meditation, during which he decided that to run away would be the safest course in the end. Peace was all that he craved for. To obtain it, he would devote himself to religious work for the rest of his life.

Next morning Kato Sayemon was nowhere to be found. There was consternation in the household. Men were dispatched here, there, and everywhere; but Sayemon could not be found. On the fifth or sixth day after the disappearance his wife reduced the establishment, but continued herself, with her little son Ishidomaro, to live in the house. Even the Shogun Ashikaga was greatly disconcerted at Sayemon's disappearance. No news of him came, and time pa.s.sed on until a year had gone, and then another, when Sayemon's wife resolved to take Ishidomaro, aged five, and go in search.

For five weary years they wandered about, this mother and son, making inquiries everywhere; but not the slightest clue could they get, until at last one day they were staying at a village in Kishu, where they met an old man who told them that a year before he had seen Kato Sayemon at the temple of Koya San. 'Sure,' he said, 'I knew him, for I was once a palanquin-bearer for the Shogun, and often and often saw Sayemon San. I cannot say if he is at the temple; but he was a priest there a year ago.'

For Ishidomaro and his mother there was but little sleep that night. They were in a fever of excitement. Ishidomaro was now eleven years of age, and was most anxious to have his father at home; both mother and son, happy after their long years of searching, eagerly looked forward to the morrow.

Unfortunately, according to ancient regulations, Koya San temple and mountain were only for men. No woman was allowed to ascend to worship the image of Buddha on this mountain. Thus Ishidomaro's mother had to remain in the village while he went in quest of his father.

At daybreak he started, full of hope, and telling his mother not to fear. 'I will bring back father this very evening,' said he; 'and how happy we shall all be! Farewell for the time being, and fear not for me!' So saying, Ishidomaro went off. 'True,' he said, 'I do not know my father by sight; but he has a black mole over his left eye, and so have I; besides, I feel that it is my father I am going to meet.' With that and such other thoughts in his mind the boy plodded upwards through the tall and gloomy forests, stopping here and there at some wayside shrine to pray for success.

Higher and higher Ishidomaro climbed--Koya San is near 1100 feet in height--until he reached the outer gates of the temple, of which the true name is 'Kongobuji,' for 'Koya San' means only 'Koya Mountain.'

Arrived at the first priest's house, Ishidomaro espied an old man mumbling prayers.

'Please, sir,' said he, doffing his hat and bowing low, could you tell me if there is a priest here called Kato Sayemon? Greatly should I be obliged if you could direct me to him. He has only been a priest for five years. For all that time my dear mother and myself have been in search of him. He is my father, and we both love him much, and wish him to come back to us!'

'Ah, my lad, I feel sorry for you,' answered Sayemon (for it was indeed he). 'I know of no man called Kato Sayemon in these temples.' Delivering himself of this speech, Sayemon showed considerable emotion. He fully recognised that the boy he was addressing was his son, and he was under sore distress to deny him thus, and not to recognise and take him to his heart; but Sayemon had made up his mind that the rest of his life should be sacrificed for the sake of Buddha, and that all worldly things should be cast aside. Ishidomaro and his wife needed no money or food, but were well provided for; thus he need not trouble on those grounds. Sayemon determined to remain as he was, a poor monk, hidden in the monastery on Koya San. With a desperate effort he continued: 'I don't remember ever hearing of a Kato Sayemon's having been here, though, of course, I have heard of the Kato Sayemon who was the great friend of the Shogun Ashikaga.'

Ishidomaro was not at all satisfied with this answer. He felt somehow or other that he was in the presence of his father. Moreover, the priest had a black mole over his left eye, and he, Ishidomaro, had one exactly the same.

'Sir,' said he, again addressing the priest, 'my mother has always particularly drawn my attention to the mole over my left eye, saying, "My son, your father has such a mark over his left eye, the exact counterpart now, remember this, for when you go forth to seek him this will be a sure sign to you." You, sir, have the exact mark that I have. I know and feel that you are my father!'

With that, tears came into the eyes of Ishidomaro, and, outstretching his arms, he cried, 'Father, father, let me embrace you!'

Sayemon trembled all over with emotion; but haughtily held up his head and, recovering himself, said: 'My lad, there are many men and many boys who have moles over their left eyebrows, and even over their right. I am not your father. You must go elsewhere to seek him.'

At this moment the chief priest came and called Sayemon to the evening services, which were held in the main temple. Thus it was that Sayemon preferred to devote his life to Buddha, and (as Mr. Matsuzaki tells me) to emulate Buddha, rather than return to the ways of the world or to his family, or even to recognise his one and only son!

My sympathies are with Ishidomaro, of whom, as of his poor mother, we are told nothing further. To end in Mr. Matsuzaki's words: 'What became of Ishidomaro and his mother is not known; but it is told to this day that Kato Sayemon pa.s.sed the rest of his life in peace and purity, entirely sacrificing his body and soul to Buddha, and did these things without any person to mourn over him, but in perfect contentment.'

In the third book of Sir Edwin Arnold's Light of Asia are the following verses, which were addressed to Buddha, when he was a Prince, by the winds:-- We are the voices of the wandering wind; Wander thou too, O Prince, thy rest to find; Leave love for love of lovers, for woe's sake Quit state for sorrow, and deliverance make. So sigh we, pa.s.sing o'er the silver strings, To thee who know'st not yet of earthly things; So say we; mocking, as we pa.s.s away, Those lovely shadows wherewith thou dost play.

No one, I feel sure, will fail to agree with me that Sayemon appears as a weak, selfish, and unheroic personage--not as a hero, much less as a Buddha.

Footnotes.

75:1 Told to me by Mr. Matsuzaki. I cannot say that I think much of the story. Sayemon is made a hero; but he must appear to most as a rather cowardly and low creature. I remarked upon this to Mr. Matsuzaki, saying: 'I do not see that the story is finished. You make Sayemon out a model person, whereas to me he appears the worst one in the story. Surely the wife and the son should have come out as the good people; but you laud and praise Sayemon for leaving his family, and refusing to recognise them when they had no sin against themselves.' 'I do not admit the difficulty,' said Mr. Matsuzaki. 'It is the same as the Lord Buddha. He also left his wife, and devoted his life to religious affairs just as Sayemon did.' Well, I could not agree with this. Buddha was Buddha, a benefactor and helper to the whole of Asia. Sayemon was a poor miserable weakling who simply sought personal peace. As far as the story goes I defy anybody to find him a hero, or a person who in any way emulated Buddha--unless he did so from an entirely j.a.panese point of view. The story, however, is quite a celebrated one, referred to in many j.a.panese books: so Mr. Matsuzaki tells me.

16. O Same Sees the Handsome Young Priest.

XIII GREAT FIRE CAUSED BY A LADY'S DRESS.

SOME 120 years ago, in the year of Temmei, a most terrible fire broke out in the western corner of Yedo,--the worst fire, probably, that is known to the world's history, for it is said to have destroyed no fewer than 188,000 persons.

At that time there lived in Yedo, now Tokio, a very rich p.a.w.nbroker, Enshu Hikoyemon, the proud possessor of a beautiful daughter aged sixteen, whose name was O Same, which in this instance is probably derived from the word 'sameru' (to fade away), for in truth O Same San did fade away.

Enshu Hikoyemon loved his daughter dearly, and, he being a widower with no other child, his thoughts and affections were concentrated on her alone. He had long been rich enough to cast aside the mean thoughts and characteristics which had enabled him to reach his present position. From being a hard-hearted relentless money-grubber, Enshu Hikoyemon had become softhearted and generous--as far, at all events, as his daughter was concerned.

One day the beautiful O Same went to pray at her ancestors' graves. She was accompanied by her maid, and, after saying her prayers, pa.s.sed the Temple of Hommyoji, which is in the same grounds at Hongo Maru Yama, and there, as she repeated her prayers before the image of Buddha, she saw a young priest, with whom she fell instantly in love. Thitherto she had had no love-affair; nor, indeed, did she fully realise what had happened, beyond the fact that the youth's face pleased her to gaze upon. It was a solemn and n.o.ble face. As O Same lit a joss-stick and handed it to the priest, to be placed before Buddha, their hands met, and she felt pa.s.s through her body a thrill the like of which she had never experienced. Poor O Same was what is known as madly in love at first sight,--in love so much that as she arose and left the temple all she could see was the face of the young priest; wherever she looked she saw nothing else. She spoke not a word to her maid on the way home, but went straight to her room.

Next morning she announced to the maid that she was indisposed. 'Go,' she said, 'and tell my dear father that I shall remain in bed. I do not feel well this day.'

Next day was much the same, and so were the next and the next.

Hikoyemon, disconsolate, tried every means to enliven his daughter. He sought to get her away to the seaside. He offered to take her to the Holy Temple of Ise or to Kompira. She would not go. Doctors were called, and could find nothing wrong with O Same San. 'She has something on her mind, and when you can get it off she will be well,' was all that they could say.

At last O Same confessed to her father that she had lost her heart to a young priest in the Hommyoji Temple. 'Nay,' she said: 'be not angry with me, father, for I do not know him, and have seen him only once. In that once I loved him, for he has a n.o.ble face, which haunts me night and day; and so it is that my heart is heavy, and my body sickens for the want of him. Oh, father, if you love me and wish to save my life, go and find him and tell him that I love him, and that without him I must die!'

Poor Hikoyemon! Here was a nice business--his daughter in love--dying of love for an unknown priest! What was he to do? First he humoured his daughter, and at last, after several days, persuaded her to accompany him to the temple. Unfortunately, they did not see the priest in question; nor did they on a second visit; and after this O Same became more disconsolate than ever, absolutely refusing to leave her room. Night and day her sobs were heard all over the house, and her father was utterly wretched, especially as he had now found out secretly that the priest with whom his daughter had fallen in love was one of the most strict of Buddha's followers, and not likely to err from the disciplinarian rules of religion.

In spite of this, Hikoyemon determined to make an effort in behalf of his daughter. He ventured to the temple alone, saw the priest, told him of his daughter's love, and asked if a union would be possible.

The priest spurned the idea, saying, 'Is it not evident to you by my robes that I have devoted my love to Buddha? It is an insult that you should make such a proposition to me!'

Hikoyemon returned to his home deeply mortified at the rebuff; but felt it his duty to be candid with his daughter.

O Same wept herself into hysterics. She grew worse day by day. Hoping to distract her mind, her father had got made for her a magnificent dress which cost nearly yen 4000. He thought that O Same would be vain enough to wish to put it on, and to go out and show it.

This was no use. O Same was not like other women. She cared not for fine raiment or for creating sensations. She put the costume on in her room, to please her father; but then she took it off again, and went back to her bed, where, two days later, she died of a broken heart.

Hikoyemon felt the loss of his pretty daughter very much. At the funeral there must have been half a mile of flower-bearers.

The superb dress was presented to the temple. Such dresses are carefully kept; they remind the priests to say prayers for their late owners as, every two or three months, they are being dusted and cleaned.

The Vicar or Head Priest of this temple, however, was not a good man. He stole this particular dress of O Same's, knowing the value, and sold it secretly to a second-hand dealer in such things.

Some twelve months later the dress was again donated to the same temple by another father whose daughter had died of a love-affair, he having bought the dress at the second-hand clothes-shop. (This girl died and was buried on the same day of the same month as O Same.) The priest of the temple was not sorry to see the valuable garment return as a gift to his church, and, being mercenary, he sold it again. It seemed, indeed, a sort of gold-mine to himself and his church. Imagine, therefore, the feeling among the priests when, in the following year, in the same month and on exactly the same day as that on which O Same and the other girl had died, another girl of exactly the same age was buried in their cemetery, having died also of a love-affair, and having also worn the splendid dress that O Same was given, which was duly presented to the temple, at the conclusion of her burial service, for the third time.

To say that the chief priest was astonished would be to say little. He and the rest of them were sorely perplexed and troubled.

There were the honest priests, who had had nothing to do with the selling of the garment, and the dishonest head priest or vicar. The honest men were puzzled. The vicar was frightened into thinking honesty the best policy amid the circ.u.mstances. Accordingly, he a.s.sembled all the priests of the temple, made a hasty confession, and asked for advice.

The priests came to one conclusion, and that was that the spirit of O Same San was in the dress, and that it must be burned, and burned with some ceremony, so as to appease her spirit. Accordingly a time was fixed. When the day arrived many people came to the temple. A great ceremony was held, and finally the valuable garment was placed upon a stone cut in the shape of a lotus flower and lighted.

The weather was calm at the time; but as the garment took fire a sudden gust of wind came, instantly fanning the whole into flame. The gust increased into a storm, which carried one of the sleeves of the dress up to the ceiling of the temple, where it caught between two rafters and burned viciously. In less than two or three minutes the whole temple was on fire. The fire went on for seven days and seven nights, at the expiration of which time nearly the whole of the south and western portions of Yedo were gone; and gone also were 188,000 people.

The charred remains (as far as possible) were collected and buried, and a temple (which now exists), called 'Eko In,' was built at the spot, to invoke the blessing of Buddha on their souls.

NOTE BY MATSUZAKI.--At the present day the Eko In Temple is well known. Games and wrestling are held there twice a year. Visitors to the temple see the wrestling-place; but no one asks why the temple was built there.

17. Awoto Fujitsuna Orders Every One to Search for the Half-Cent.

XIV HISTORY OF AWOTO FUJITSUNAA 1.

HOJO TOKIYORI--who, my Murray says, was born in 1246 A. D., and died seventeen years later, in 1263--was Regent for a time, young as he was.

One day he went to worship at the shrine of Tsurugaoka in Kamakura. That same evening he dreamed that one of the G.o.ds appeared to him and said: 'Hojo Tokiyori, you are very young for a ruler, and there are some who will try to deceive you, for honest men are scarce. There is one man who is of exceptional honesty, however, and if you wish to govern the people successfully it would be advisable to employ him. His name is Awoto Fujitsuna.'

Hojo Tokiyori told him of his dream. 'Nay,' said he; it was more than a dream: it was a vision that called upon me to appoint you to the post, which I have done.'

'Ah, indeed!' quoth Awoto Fujitsuna. 'Then, sir, if you appoint high officials as the result of dreams and visions, it is a risky matter, for by those dreams we may some day be ordered to be beheaded!

Hojo Tokiyori laughed at this, and said he hoped not. Awoto Fujitsuna turned out a most excellent and trustworthy official, popular, just, and honest. No one had a word against him, and Hojo Tokiyori was delighted.

One day Fujitsuna was carrying over a bridge a bag of money belonging to the Government. He fell, and the bag burst. Fujitsuna collected the money--with the exception of a half-cent piece, which had rolled in some way over the edge of the bridge and fallen into the river.

Fujitsuna could have let it go, putting another in its place; but that course would not have been up to the high standard of his morals in such matters. He had lost a half-cent which belonged to the Government. It was, he knew, in the river. Consequently, he refused to move on until it was recovered. That was clearly his duty. Awoto Fujitsuna ran to the houses at either end of the bridge, telling the villagers merely that he had dropped some Government money into the river--would they come and help him to find it? Of course they would, ready to help as the j.a.panese country-men have been from time immemorial. All followed Fujitsuna into the river--men, women, and children--and a diligent search was kept up by several hundreds for many hours, without result, when at last, just as the sun was setting, an old farmer picked up the half-cent, which he presented to Fujitsuna.

Fujitsuna was delighted, and told the people that things were all right now: he had recovered the money--thanks to the quick sight of the farmer.

'But,' they cried, 'that is only a half-cent. Where is the rest?'

'My friends,' said Fujitsuna, 'the half-cent is all that was lost; but that half-cent was not mine; it was part of the Government treasure, and was entrusted to me, and it was my duty to recover it. Here are thirty yen for you who have helped me to find it, to spend in sake. That is my money; and remember what I tell you--that, no matter how small a thing is entrusted to you by the Government, you must not lose it, but give up your life and fortune sooner.'

The villagers were much impressed with this great honesty and way of reasoning.

Hojo Tokiyori, on hearing the little story, sent for and promoted Awoto Fujitsuna to a higher position than he had held before; but, in spite of his advances and riches, the minister continued to work hard, to eat simple food, and to put on plain raiment, living in a cottage instead of occupying a palace, and devoting his life to his country.

Footnotes.

88:1 Told to me by my friend Mr. Matsuzaki.

18. Oba Kage-chika Feels in the Tree with his Bow.

XV A LIFE SAVED BY A SPIDER AND TWO DOVES.

OF Yoritomo Murray says that 'he lived from 1147 to 1199. He was the founder of the Shogunate--the first j.a.panese Mayor of the Palace, if one may so phrase it. A scion of the great house of Minamoto, as shrewd and ambitious as he was unscrupulous and inhuman, he was left an orphan at an early age, and barely escaped death as a lad at the hands of Kiyomori, the then all-powerful minister who belonged to the rival house of Taira.'

In this excellently-concentrated epitome of Yoritomo's fifty-two years of life, it will readily be seen that he must have had innumerable adventures. Fighting went on throughout his career; yet oddly enough, in spite of all this, he died comfortably in bed.

In the earlier half of Yoritomo's time he was once severely defeated at a battle against Oba Kage-chika in the Ishibashi mountains, in the province of Izu. So bad had been his defeat that Yoritomo, with six of his most faithful followers, to use vulgar language, made a bolt of it. They ran, not over-boldly, but to save their skins, and in their haste to escape Oba Kage-chika's men they took, like hunted hares, to a large forest, hoping there to escape by lying concealed. After they had pushed their way into the thickest and heaviest part of the forest, they came to an enormous hi no ki tree, partly rotten, and containing a hollow which was large enough to hide them all. Yoritomo and his six followers eagerly sought refuge within the tree, for in their state of tiredness they could not long hope to escape the large and active forces of Oba Kage-chika, which were following up their victory by hunting out and cutting off all those who had fled. When he reached the edge of the forest, Oba Kage-chika sent his cousin Oba Kagetoki to search for Yoritomo, saying: 'Go, my cousin, and bring in our enemy Yoritomo. It is the opportunity of your life, for sure it is that he must be in this forest. I myself will endeavour, as our men come up, to place them so as to surround the forest.' Oba Kagetoki was not pleased with his mission, for at one time he had known and been friendly with Yoritomo. However, he bowed low to his cousin and went off. Half an hour after starting Oba Kagetoki came to the enormous tree, and found his old friend Yoritomo and his six faithful attendants. His heart softened, and, instead of carrying out his duty, he returned to Oba Kage-chika, saying that he had been unable to find the enemy, and that in his opinion Yoritomo had escaped from the wood.

Oba Kage-chika was very angry, and openly said that he did not believe his cousin--that to escape from the wood was impossible in such a short time.

'Come!' said he. 'Follow me, some fifteen or twenty of you; and you, my cousin, lead the way and show us where you went, and play fair, or you shall suffer for it!'

Thus bid, Kagetoki led the way, carefully avoiding the big tree, for he was determined to save the life of Yoritomo if he could. By some misfortune, however, he chose an abominably bad path, and Kage-chika, having on a particularly heavy suit of armour, cried out, 'Enough of your leading! Let us stick to the road by which we started. It is more likely to be the one which our fugitives took. In any case, this is no road at all where you lead us, and with heavy armour on it is impossible.'

Thus it was that in due time they reached the huge tree. Kagetoki was much afraid that his cousin would go into the hollow and find Yoritomo, and set to think how he could save him.

Kage-chika was about to enter the hollow tree when a bright idea occurred to Kagetoki.

'Hold!' said he. 'It is no use wasting time by going in there. Can't you see that there is a spider's web right across the entrance? It would have been quite impossible for any one to get inside without breaking it.

Kage-chika was half-inclined to agree that his cousin was right; but, being still a little suspicious about him, he put in his bow to feel what was inside. Just as his bow was about to be thrust against Yoritomo's heavy armour (which would naturally have revealed his presence), two beautiful white doves flew out of the top of the hole.

You are right, cousin,' said Kage-chika, laughing, when he saw the doves: 'I am wasting time here, for no one can be in this tree with wild doves in it, besides the entrance being closed by a cobweb.'

Thus it was that Yoritomo's life was saved by a spider and two doves. When he became Shogun in later years, and fixed upon Kamakura as his place of residence and as the seat of government, two shrines were built in the temple of Tsuru-ga-oka, which itself is dedicated to Hachiman, the G.o.d of War. One is dedicated to the Emperor Nintoku, son of Ojin, the G.o.d of War, and the other to Yoritomo, called Shirahata Jinja. The shrines were erected to show Yoritomo's grat.i.tude to the G.o.d of War, for doves are known in j.a.pan as the messengers of war, not of peace.

NOTE.--I think that the shrine called by Murray 'Shirahata,' which means White Flag, is really 'Shiro hato,' the white doves. The following is from Murray:-- The Temple of Hachiman, the G.o.d of War, dating from the end of the twelfth century, stands in a commanding position on a hill called Tsuru-ga-oka, and is approached by a stately avenue of pine trees leading up the whole way from the seash.o.r.e. Though both avenue and temple have suffered from the ravages of time, enough still remains to remind one of the ancient glories of the place. Three stone torii lead up to the temple, which stands at the head of a broad flight of stone steps. Notice the magnificent icho tree, nearly 20 feet in circ.u.mference, and said to be over a thousand years old, and the flowering trees scattered about the grounds.

Before ascending the flight of steps, the minor shrines to the rear deserve notice. The nearer one, painted red and called Wakamiya, is dedicated to the Emperor Nintoku, son of the G.o.d of War. The farther one, renovated in 1890, is called Shirahata Jinja, and dedicated to Yoritomo. The style and structure are somewhat unusual, black and gold being the only colours employed, and iron being the material of the four main pillars. The interior holds a small wooden image of Yoritomo.

A side path leads up hence to the main temple, which is enclosed in a square colonnade painted red. The temple, which was re-erected in 1828, after having been destroyed by fire seven years previously, is in the Ryobu Shinto style, with red pillars, beams, and rafters, and is decorated with small painted carvings, chiefly of birds and animals. In the colonnade are several religious palanquins (mikoshi) used on the occasion of the semi-annual festivals (April 15 and December 15), a wooden image of Sumiyoshi by Unkei, and a few relics of Yoritomo. Most of the relics once preserved in the temple have been removed to the residence of the Chief Priest (Hakozaki Oyatsu-kwan), and are only exhibited at festival times.