***THE END***
CURSE OF THE DRAGON-GOD
By Akira Asano
For the umpteenth day in row, no rain fell and the drought continued. That made three years. Three years and not even a single drop. Not a single drop of rain. Worried, the people gathered at the house of Jinbei, the village leader.
"Don't the gods have even one drop of water in the heavens to spare us?" asked Mokubei in a pitiful voice.
"If it goes on this way again this year, that'll make three years in a row without a harvest," Magosaku said, the wrinkles on his forehead popping out with the effort.
"If it keeps up, we'll all die and the village will be destroyed," Gohei said, almost crying.
"Okay, that's enough," Jinbei said, calming them down. Everyone stopped talking, and turned to look at him. "I didn't call you here to listen to you complain. Did you know there's a temple on the outskirts of town called Tohkakuin."
"So?"
"I hear there's a new priest passing through just now."
"That's right. I've heard of him. He's gone all over the country building great shrines," Magosaku said, leaning forward.
"Right. He's the priest that built White Mountain Shrine."
"Really? Then he can do anything, can't he?" Mokubei asked, with deep interest.
"Anything. It's like he almost has some strange kind of power. I heard that he even knows how to ask the heavens for rain."
"Rain! I'd sure be grateful for that," Gohei said, breaking into a smile.
"As a matter of fact, I was thinking of going to see him and ask for a favour," Jinbei said. "What do you think?"
"What a good idea!" Magosaku said, with Mokubei and Gohei nodding agreement behind him.
Everyone else thought it was a good idea, too, so with the three of them acting as the village's representatives, Jinbei led them all off to Tohkakuin temple.
When they got there, the priest was standing in front of the temple's gate, his arms folded and looking up into the sky. As the villagers trooped over to the main gate, the priest noticed and called out to them.
"Well, well," he said. "This is a real treat. The entire village's population all gathered together at the temple at the same time. To what do we owe the honour?"
"We came to ask a favour," Jinbei said respectfully.
"What kind of favour?"
"I'm sure a great priest like you knows all about it, but our village hasn't had any rain for three years, and it's getting to be quite troubling. If it goes on this way, we'll all starve and the village will be destroyed. We came to ask if you could make it rain somehow or other. Please make it rain," Jinbei said, tears coming from his eyes.
"Please! Please!" the villagers cried, sitting on the ground behind him and rubbing their heads into the dirt.
"Pick up your heads!" the priest demanded. "And stand up! I'm not a god, so stop putting your hands together to pray to me like that. I know what you're talking about. I can remember when the rice paddies in Kitta village spread as far as the eye could see and the land was plentiful. Now look at it. If the drought continues on like this, it'll be a terrible thing."
"Yes, we have to push it aside and get past it."
"The water facilities around here are bad. I'll tell you what. Why don't you build a pond on the mountain behind Suhara Shrine. If everyone works in shifts, it won't take any time."
"Thank you. It's a good idea. We're very grateful for your help."
"No. I can't stay. I've got plans. I was just about to leave for Ishikawa prefecture, as you can see. I'd like to stay behind and help you make rain, but I can't. I have to go. All I can do is tell you the way to go about doing it."
"Yes, yes, anything. Just tell us.”
"I've seen a lot of things in my time, and a drought that goes on and on like this could only be one thing," the priest said in a rush of one breath, looking around at the faces of the villagers.
Their hearts caught in their throats, the villagers waited for the priest to tell them what it could be.
"Making rain in a case like that will be very, very difficult," the priest muttered.
"Difficult?" repeated Jinbei like a parrot.
"That's right. Hard. The reason you haven't had even a drop of rain around here is because of the curse of the Dragon God."
"The curse of the Dragon God?" the villagers said, exchanging glances and looking at each in puzzlement. Everyone knew that Dragons were water gods responsible for causing thunder and rain, but no had thought that the reason he was angry was because the village must have done something bad.
"This is something that must have happened a long, long time ago, but someone in this village must once have killed a snake," said the priest.
"Killed a snake?"
"That's right. Snakes are the Dragon God's messengers. It makes the Dragon God very angry."
"But . . . but . . . why hasn't he calmed down yet? It's been such a long time," Jinbei asked timidly.
"Good question. The only thing I can think of is that the hearts of the people in this village are still unclean after killing the snake. You haven't said you're sorry yet."
"The condition of our hearts?" Mokubei asked, with a strange face.
"That's right. The life of even the smallest animal is precious to the Dragon God. And this wasn't just any animal. It was a snake."
"Yes, you said that already."
"What you have to do is cut open the earth and build a shrine for the Dragon God near the pond."
"Yes, yes, Anything you say," said Jinbei.
"Then, once it's built, you have to bring an offering to the Dragon God at the shrine every day. Without fail."
"Yes, we see. But what kind of offering?"
"If your hearts are right, anything is okay. Something from the fruits of the earth, or the sea, or maybe some handmade clothes or tools. Anything's okay. Just so long as it comes from your hearts. The Dragon God can feel that."
"Yes, yes. We understand."
"And after that . . ."
"What? You mean there's still more?" Gohei yelled out, in spite of himself. Yes, the heart of the village still wasn't quite right. Quickly, Jinbei rushed over and pinched him on the
side to make him shut up.
"I'll write the words to a prayer on a piece of paper," the priest said, ignoring him. "You have to take that paper and tie it up in the leaf of some bamboo grass. While you're holding that, you have to dance and pray for rain. The Dragon God likes lively things, so you have to make the rain dance as happy and fun as possible," the priest said.
He turned and went into the temple to write the prayer. A while later, he came out holding a piece of paper. "Here you go. I've written the words to a prayer on this paper. Take good care of it," he said, handing it to Jinbei. "I'm sorry. I've done all I can. Now I've got to go. Good luck."
"Thank you for everything," Jinbei said.
"Yes, thank you. Thank you," the villagers called out over and over again as he set off.
After that, everything the priest said came to pass. The villagers cut open the earth on the mountain behind Suhara Shrine and built a shrine to the Dragon God. Before they knew it, a brand new, man-made pond was ready to save the rain. Jinbei announced to the village that from now on it was forbidden to kill animals, even the smallest kinds, and they put out offerings to the Dragon God at the temple every day.
All they needed now was rain. Despite all their efforts, it still didn't rain. There was only one thing left to do. Dance for the Dragon God. The villagers tied up the paper that the priest had written the prayer on in some bamboo grass and, dancing, prayed all the way to the shrine.
They felt silly, but the rain still didn't fall. Then they remembered the priest saying the Dragon God liked lively dances, and decided, silly or not, something had to be done. If it didn't rain soon, they were all done for. That day, all the men in the village aged from fifty to eighty-five began to dance like madmen all the way to the shrine, carrying the prayer wrapped in bambo
o grass. The next day, and the next day, too, a line of dancing, crazy men snaked all the way to the new shrine.
"Rain, rain."
"”Enyakora, enyakora," they chanted
"Rain, rain."
"”Enyakora, enyakora."
"Dragon God. Please make it rain," they shouted, getting sillier and sillier as they tried to outdo themselves and please the Dragon God. The dance got wilder and wilder, too, the line of dancing men getting longer and longer, until it resembled the entourage of a great samurai or lord.
By the time they got to the shrine, there was a small black cloud in one part of the sky. As soon as they noticed it, it spread all over the sky and big raindrops began to fall.
"Rain!"
"Rain! Rain!" the villagers cried. They were so happy they began to fling their arms in the air and fall on their backs kicking their feet in rain like madmen. The rain dance went on for a long, long time. So did the rain. Ten days after it started, it finally stopped. Even today, the Rain Making Festival in Kitta village is carried out the same way.
The Love of a Silver Fox: Folk Tales from Seki CIty Page 14
