The Tanuki Song

Tanuki are one of the most popular and ubiquitous of Japan’s magical menagerie.  There are few Japanese children who don’t know some variation of this popular tune:

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Tan tan tanuki no kintama wa

Kaze mo nai no ni bura bura

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Tan tan tanuki’s balls

Even without wind they blowing around

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Strangely enough, this song began as a American Christian hymn, “Shall We Gather at the River” written in 1864 written by American poet and gospel music composer Robert Lowry.

The song made its way to Japan in the 1970s when it was adapted into a popular enka song, which was then parodied into the children’s tanuki song.  The parody version is by far the best known in Japan today, with many unaware of the song’s origin.

Almost everyone sings the identical first verse, but depending on where you live in Japan you might have heard variations on the continuance.

This is the version I learned in the Kansai region:

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Sore o mite ita oya danuki

Onaka o kakaete wahha hha

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When hey saw that, the tanuki parents

laughed so hard their bellies shook.

 

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In truth, there are probably as many variations as there are groups of children in Japan, with new ones being created every day.

The Severed Heads Hanging in the Fowling Net

 

Translated from Nihon no Yurei Banashi

The Thrush Bird

At the Western base of Noriguchidake in the Japanese Alps there is a picturesque plateau.  All through-out this plateau are scattered small lakes filled with sky-blue water.

In the olden days, the road from Shinshu (modern day Nagano prefecture) to Hida (modern day Gifu prefecture) wound along this plateau linking lake to lake.  However, because fearsome things were known to happen along this route people referred to it as the “Road of the Dead.”

It has been two hundred years since this story was first told.  Sitting near the base of this plateau was a small village, where lived a peasant named Heitaro.  His greatest love was hunting the birds and beasts of the wild, and with the coming of winter Heitaro would venture forth with his fowling net and bow and arrow without fail.

“Today, if luck is with me, I will bring down a thrush!”

Heitaro spread out his great fowling net right in the open plains of the Road of the Dead, and waited for an unknowing thrush to fly into it.

At this time, it was still in the early hours of morning.  The white fog was thick, covering the ground and limiting visibility.  Heitaro crouched silently, hidden in the lee of a nearby tree and patiently smoked a cigarette.  After awhile, he heard a loud voice coming from the vicinity of his fowling net.

“Get that Heitaro!  Get that Heitaro!”

Heitaro could hear someone yelling this.

“Eh? What is that?”

Heitaro peered into the fog from between the branches of his hiding place.

“What the…?

Taken aback, Heitaro held his breath and began to shudder with fear.  The voice was coming from something unspeakably terrible.

Caught in his fowling net, lined up in a row, were several severed heads of dead men. And what’s more the heads were screaming:

“Get that Heitaro!  We are going to get that Heitaro!!!”

At any minute it looked liked the heads would free themselves and coming flying towards Heitaro.

Heitaro was too frightened to speak, and quickly dove into an open cavern in a nearby rock formation where he lay shivering. Because the severed heads might be able to come down the same opening that Heitaro had entered, he closed up the hole with another rock.

But he could still hear the terrible voices screaming:

“Get that Heitaro!  Get that Heitaro!”

In time, the dense fog that enveloped the scene began to dissipate, and along with the thinning of the fog Heitaro could no longer hear the voices.

The Dead among the Fog

 

“Now is the time to make my escape”

Heitaro made no move to gather up his fowling net.  Leaving everything behind, he started to run for his village at the base of the plateau.

As he was fleeing, however, again the thick white fog began to gather around the ground until Heitaro could longer see even those things right in front of his eyes. 

“Ahhh!  This is bad…this is bad…anything could happen in weather like this…”

Thinking this to himself, a long shiver ran along his spine. 

He found himself standing along one of the small lakes that decorated the plateau.  From the lake he could hear certain sounds:

“Slurp.  Slurp.”

It was clearly the sound of someone drinking from the water. Heitaro could also hear the sound of something moving along the ground like a worm.

Fearfully, he tried to search through the fog for the source of the sound…

“Ah!”

Heitaro screamed loudly, when he saw the ghastly blue colored things rolling around on the ground.  Drinking the water, dressed in white kimonos where the yurei of dead men.   And there were many of them!  Clinging to the banks of the lake they were pushing each other out of the way to drink from the blue water.

“O…oh no!”

Wanting desperately to flee, Heitaro turned to run but his legs where knocking together with terror and his feet wouldn’t move.  And it was here that Heitaro was seen.

“Heitaro!  We have been waiting for you!”

In a blind panic, Heitaro drug his unmoving feet finally breaking into a run.  Blindly he fled across the plateau until somehow or other he arrived at his village. But all was not well, as Heitaro could no longer go hunting and in time fell ill and succumbed to his bed.

When news of this affair reached the people of the village, they said:

“Is that so…things like really do happen?  I guess what they say about that road is true.  It really is the Road of the Dead.  A place where you go hunting for thrush and catch severed heads”

From that time forth and for a long time after, no one passed again along that route.

This legend is of the “Haunted Forest”-type, and is common amongst yurei tales. These same types of mysterious stories can be found in almost every area, with only the details changed to accommodate the local setting.

The Yurei of the Melancholy Boy

Translated from Nihon no Yurei Banashi

The Body on the Boarders

 Long ago, on the road lying exactly on the boarder between the province of Sendai (modern day Miyagi prefecture) and the province of Souma (modern day Fukushima prefecture), a solitary boy fell dead.

The boy was journeying from Sendai and planning to cross over into Souma when he collapsed.  His head and upper-body lay in Souma, while his legs and lower-body lay in the territory of Sendai.

Just then, a samurai patrolling the boarder of Sendai came upon the scene.

“Ohhhh…this is a troublesome place to find a corpse.   And who is going to be responsible for cleaning this up? If he is from Sendai, then the obligation is ours, but…let’s see what we can do….”

Softly and secretly, the patrolling samurai of Sendai lifted the body in his arms, turned him around placing his head in Sendai and his feet in Souma.  He did not know, however that he was being watched by a figure from the shadows.  There was a samurai who had been patrolling the boarders of Souma.

The Souma samurai leapt quickly from his positing in the tree’s shadow.

“Hey hey!  This is a terrible thing you are doing!  That child is from your province!  He only fell dead while trying to enter my province.”

What are you saying?  Can’t you see?  This is clearly a child of Souma!”

“No, he is from Sendai.  Look at the body for proof!  Can’t you see that his head is facing away from Souma and his feet are firmly in Sendai?”

“Are you crazy?  Look at his body! It is exactly the opposite!”

“Only because you flipped him around!  I saw it all!”

“How dare you falsely accuse me!”

The two began to scream at each other fiercely.

However no matter how strongly they disputed the other’s statement, they could not come to a conclusion on who was responsible for cleaning up the body.  Finally, the samurai of Sendai fixed the samurai of Souma with his most fearsome glare, and said:

“Fine. If we can’t work it out ourselves, let us fetch a Magistrate of Sendai and a Magistrate of Souma, and they can decide what is right.”

“OK, that sounds fair.  Let’s do just that.”

And so it came to be that the two Magistrates arrived, and discussed the problem of the boy’s body.

It must be said that Sendai was a very large and strong province, while Souma was small and weak.  Even if the Magistrate of Sendai knew he was in the wrong, he would never admit it.  And of this point, he said:

“The tiny province of Souma is nothing compared to the might of Sendai.  If this dispute escalates, what do you think will happen?  Do you understand what I am saying?”

The implied threat was clear.

From here, the discussion of who was responsible for disposing of the body was ended. For it was true that if Sendai and Souma went to war, the outcome would never be in doubt.  Souma would lose.

Therefore, Souma had no choice but to accede to the wishes of Sendai.

Before the Grave

While they were going to this grave decision, the Sun had risen and the body of the boy had begun to decompose.  The people of Souma said:

“This poor boy.  Well, there is nothing to do about it but to bury him here.”

So they dug a grave and placed the boy inside.

The following day, a mysterious thing occurred.  Although they were positive they had buried the boy in the grave, he was seen sitting next to his headstone. Patiently, he would gaze kindly in the direction of Souma.  After that, his head would turn in the direction of Sendai and his face would turn horrible.  With all of his heart he would glare his hatred at Sendai.

The people of Souma said this:

“The curse of that boy is on Sendai, and they will be destroyed by it.  The grudge of the living is nothing to be feared, but the grudge of a yurei…”

Not a single person of Souma who looked upon the boy suffered any ill effects, but the same thing can not be said of the people of Sendai.

This story is from the Houken Era and tells of the way things are.  It is an easy to understand legend, coming from the Tohoku Area.

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