Once,when Muso Kokushi,a priest of the Zen sect,was journeying alone through the province of Mino (1),he lost his way in a mountain-district where there was nobody to direct him.For a long time he wandered about helplessly;and he was beginning to despair of finding shelter for the night,when he perceived,on the top of a hill lighted by the last rays of the sun,one of those little hermitages,called anjitsu,which are built for solitary priests.It seemed to be in ruinous condition;but he hastened to it eagerly,and found that it was inhabited by an aged priest,from whom he begged the favor of a night's lodging.This the old man harshly refused;but he directed Muso to a certain hamlet,in the valley adjoining where lodging and food could be obtained.
Muso found his way to the hamlet,which consisted of less than a dozen farm-cottages;and he was kindly received at the dwelling of the headman.Forty or fifty persons were assembled in the principal apartment,at the moment of Muso's arrival;but he was shown into a small separate room,where he was promptly supplied with food and bedding.Being very tired,he lay down to rest at an early hour;but a little before midnight he was roused from sleep by a sound of loud weeping in the next apartment.Presently the sliding-screens were gently pushed apart;and a young man,carrying a lighted lantern,entered the room,respectfully saluted him,and said:--
"Reverend Sir,it is my painful duty to tell you that I am now the responsible head of this house.Yesterday I was only the eldest son.But when you came here,tired as you were,we did not wish that you should feel embarrassed in any way:therefore we did not tell you that father had died only a few hours before.The people whom you saw in the next room are the inhabitants of this village:they all assembled here to pay their last respects to the dead;and now they are going to another village,about three miles off,--for by our custom,no one of us may remain in this village during the night after a death has taken place.We make the proper offerings and prayers;--then we go away,leaving the corpse alone.Strange things always happen in the house where a corpse has thus been left:so we think that it will be better for you to come away with us.We can find you good lodging in the other village.But perhaps,as you are a priest,you have no fear of demons or evil spirits;and,if you are not afraid of being left alone with the body,you will be very welcome to the use of this poor house.However,I must tell you that nobody,except a priest,would dare to remain here tonight."
Muso made answer:--
"For your kind intention and your generous hospitality and am deeply grateful.But I am sorry that you did not tell me of your father's death when I came;--for,though I was a little tired,I certainly was not so tired that I should have found difficulty in doing my duty as a priest.Had you told me,I could have performed the service before your departure.As it is,I shall perform the service after you have gone away;and I shall stay by the body until morning.I do not know what you mean by your words about the danger of staying here alone;but I am not afraid ofghosts or demons:therefore please to feel no anxiety on my account."
The young man appeared to be rejoiced by these assurances,and expressed his gratitude in fitting words.Then the other members of the family,and the folk assembled in the adjoining room,having been told of the priest's kind promises,came to thank him,--after which the master of the house said:--
"Now,reverend Sir,much as we regret to leave you alone,we must bid you farewell.By the rule of our village,none of us can stay here after midnight.We beg,kind Sir,that you will take every care of your honorable body,while we are unable to attend upon you.And if you happen to hear or see anything strange during our absence,please tell us of the matter when we return in the morning."
