Japanese Tales [S.S. Col.] [Fairy Tales col.] by Tyler Royall

Author:Tyler, Royall [Tyler, Royall]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Folk Tales, Folklore, Japan, Fiction, Short Stories
ISBN: 9780307784063
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2012-08-22T04:00:00+00:00

102.

THE GOLD OF GOLDEN PEAK

A man whose trade was beating gold into foil lived on Seventh Avenue in Kyoto. One day he set off on pilgrimage to Golden Peak: the mountain where Miroku, the Future Buddha, is said to have stored all the gold that will make the world shine again when he comes.

At a place on the mountain called Oreslide, he spotted what looked like a nugget and cheerfully hid it under his coat. Back at home he melted it down, and since it was real gold it glittered and gleamed. He was amazed. As far as he knew, there should have been thunder, or an earthquake, or at least a cloudburst when he took the gold, but nothing had happened. “Well,” he thought, “I’ll use it myself.”

The gold weighed nearly two pounds, and the craftsman beat it into seven or eight thousand sheets of foil. They made a thick roll. He was looking for a buyer to take the whole lot when he heard that an officer of the Imperial Police was planning to donate a new buddha to Tōji, and would probably want a lot of gold foil for the statue. So off he went with his gold to the gentleman’s house.

The gentleman wanted to know how much foil his visitor had. “Seven or eight thousand sheets,” the craftsman replied.

“Are they with you?”

“Yes, sir.”

The sheets were perfect and their color was beautiful. But each one, when unrolled, turned out to have “Golden Peak” on it in tiny characters.

“What does this mark mean?” the gentleman asked.

“There’s no mark on them, sir. How could there be?”

“But there is. Look here!”

Indeed there was. The craftsman was speechless.

“Something’s not right,” said the gentleman. He had an underling carry the gold while he marched the craftsman off to the chief of police. The chief had the craftsman taken out to the riverbank and put to the question.

They tied him to a post and whipped him till his back was as red and wet as newly washed red silk, then threw him in prison. In ten days he was dead. The gold, they say, was returned to Golden Peak and put back where it had come from. No one ever thought of making off with it again.

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