Bird of Spring.

Haru no Tori
Author(s): Kunikida Doppo and David G. Chibbett
Source: Monumenta Nipponica , 1971, Vol. 26, No. 1/2 (1971), pp. 195-203
Published by: Sophia University

Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/2383616

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Monumenta Nipponica

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 eTRANSLATION

BIRD OF SPRING

Haru no tori

by KUNIKIDA DoPPo

Translated by DAVID G. CHIBBETT

'I

S IX OR SEVEN years ago I was engaged in teaching English and mathe-

matics in a certain provincial district. In the town was a mountain called
Shiroyama which was covered with huge, gloomy trees. This I used to climb
whenever I was out for a walk, because although it was not a particularly high
mountain its scenery was of exceptional beauty. On its summit were the ruins
of a castle, the high stone walls of which had an inexpressible charm, with
creepers trailing over them, tingeing them a deep red. Where the keep had stood
in ancient times the ground was level; with its sparse scattering of dwarf pines,
which had grown up sometime in the dim past, amidst an unbroken sea of summer
grasses, the scene bore a pathos redolent of bygone days. I cannot count the
number of times I spread some grass and lay enjoying the view of suburban
gardens and fields over the top of a forest to which no axe had been laid over
hundreds of years.
I remember one Sunday afternoon. It was late autumn and the sky was clear
as water, but a wintry wind was blowing, causing a violent moaning among the
trees of Shiroyama. As usual I had climbed to the summit and was reading the
novel I had brought with me as I watched the sun, which was slightly inclined
to the west, casting a red glow over the distant villages and suburbs. Suddenly
I heard the sound of voices and when I looked down over the edge of the stone
wall I saw three quite ordinary-looking girls gathering dead branches. Perhaps on
account of the great harvest to be reaped because of the violence of the wind,
they appeared to be still searching the area, even though they had large loads on

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 i96 Monumenta Nipponica, xxvI, I-2

their backs, chattering and singing merrily as they picked up the wood. They
seemed to be about twelve or thirteen years old; probably farm children from
some nearby village. I looked down at the girls for a time, but then returned to
my book and for the moment forgot all about them.
'Ah!' At the sound of a female cry I looked down in surprise and saw that the
three girls must have been frightened by something for they fled in confusion with
the wood on their backs. Immediately they were lost to view beyond the stone
wall. Thinking this odd, I looked carefully round the vicinity and saw someone
coming in my direction from the murky forest, beating a path for himself through
the trackless undergrowth. At first I did not know who it was, but when he
emerged from the forest and appeared beneath the stone wall I saw that it was
a boy whom I judged to be eleven or twelve years old. He wore a navy-blue kimono
fastened with a white cotton waistband; judging from his appearance he was
neither a farm lad nor a boy from the town, it seemed. Carrying a stout switch
in his hand he stared about him with wandering eyes, and when he suddenly
looked up over the stone wall, our eyes happened to meet. The child gazed hard
at me, but presently grinned. It was no normal grin and, from the way the eyes
in his pale round face goggled at me, I immediately perceived that he was no
normal child.
'What are you doing, Sensei? he called to me. I was slightly startled, but the
place where I taught at the time was an extremely small castle town, so even
though I knew few people outside my pupils, the natives generally would be
aware that a young teacher had arrived from the capital; thus it was not parti-
cularly strange for this child to address me that way. As soon as the explanation
occurred to me, I spoke to him gently: 'I am reading a book. Won't you come
here?'
At once the child put his hands on the stone wall and began to climb like a
monkey. As the wall was more than thirty feet high I was amazed; even as
I reflected that I should make some effort to stop him, he was already half-way
up. Grasping the nearest creeper as it came within reach, he agilely pulled
himself up by it and in an instant was standing by my side. Then he stood there
grinning.
'What's your name?' I asked.
'Roku.'
'Roku? It's Roku-san, is it?'
He nodded, wearing the same peculiar grin. He had his mouth slightly open
and stared so hard at my face that I felt odd.

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 TRANSLATION. CHIBBETT, 'Haru no tori' I97

'How old are you?' I asked. He looked puzzled, so I repeated the question,
whereupon he twisted his mouth into a strange shape and moved his lips. Sud-
denly, he opened both hands and counted off on his fingers 'One, two, three' and
then jumped to 'ten, eleven'. He looked up at me seriously. The way he said
'eleven' was no different at all from that of a five-year-old child who has just
learned to count.
'Well, you're pretty bright, aren't you?' I said instinctively.
'My mother taught me.'
'Do you go to school?'
'No.'
'Why not?'
The child hung his head and looked away, so I waited, guessing that he was
thinking about his answer. Without warning he rushed off, making a croaking
noise like a deaf-mute.
'Roku-san! Roku-san!' In amazement, I called for him to stop. With a cry of
'Aagh, aagh!' he rushed off down the base of the keep without looking back, and
immediately disappeared from sight.

At this time I was living in a lodging house, but I found it inconvenient, so

after making several enquiries I eventually rented two upstairs rooms from a
man named Taguchi, who was to provide all the necessities. Taguchi in earlier
days was a principal samurai retainer and lived affluently beneath Shiroyama in
a splendid mansion which retained all the glory of the old style, so it was no small
favor for him to rent me the upper story of his house and take care of me.
When, the morning after I moved in, I got up early to take a stroll, I was
surprised to find the boy I had met on the mountain sweeping up in the garden.
'Good morning, Roku-san,' I said. He looked at me and then with a grin swept
up some leaves with his broom, making no reply.
As the days passed I gradually began to learn the story of this peculiar child;
this came about because I very discreetly kept my eyes and ears open. His name
was Rokuz5, and he was the nephew of my landlord Taguchi. He was a congenital
imbecile. His mother, who was forty-five or forty-six years old, had lost her
husband early; she had returned to her own family, and with her two children
was being cared for by her elder brother, Taguchi. Rokuzo's elder sister was called
0-shige. She was seventeen at this time and from what I could see she too was
an unfortunate case-an imbecile like her brother.

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i98 Monumenta Nipponica, XXVI, I-2

At first my landlord Taguchi seemed to be concealing

becility from me, but the truth about anything cannot b
about it, so finally he came to my room one evening an
education, he brought up the subject of the imbecility
and wondered if it might not be possible to give them
According to what he told me, the father of this path
tremely heavy drinker, in the process shortening his o
the family fortune. In the beginning he sent Rokuz5 a
school, but both had proved singularly incapable of learning anything; no
matter how hard the teachers had tried with them all efforts were to no avail.
For the most part it had been impossible to teach them together with other
pupils, for all they did was become targets of the ridicule of class mischiefmakers,
and so it was sympathetically suggested that they be taken away from the
school.
As I heard the story in all its details, it became increasingly obvious that both
brother and sister were true imbeciles. Also, though Taguchi did not say this,
from general observation it was clear that his sister, the children's mother, was
not quite all there, and I quickly perceived that while part of the cause of the
children's imbecility lay in the father's alcoholism, it was also partly inherited
from the mother.
I knew that there was such a thing as the education of imbeciles, but special-
ized knowledge was necessary for this, so I avoided discussing the matter seriously
with Taguchi. I contented myself with merely saying that it would be no easy
task. However, when thereafter I came to see more of 0-shige and Rokuz5, I
could not help but feel a great pity for them. I felt that there was no deformity
more pitiable than this. It is no doubt a tragedy to be mute, deaf, or blind, but
those who are unable to speak or to hear or to see are still capable of thought.
They can think and feel, whereas the imbecile has a muteness, a deafness, and a
blindness of the mind so that he is scarce different from the birds and the beasts.
At any rate, since he has a human form, he is not completely without feelings,
but they cannot amount to more than a fraction of those of the normal person.
If a mind is in order, even though incomplete, it is not too bad, but as the imbecile's
mind is distorted as well as incomplete, he seems peculiar indeed. When he laughs,
when he cries, when he rejoices, when he is sad, he is in an even sorrier plight
because to all normal people all of his actions seem deranged.
It was not quite so true of 0-shige, but Rokuz5, all the more for being but a
child, had an innocence which made me pity him doubly, and so I resolved that

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 TRANSLATION. CHIBBETT, 'Haru no tori' 199

if it were at all humanly possible I should like to somehow improve his mental
faculties, even though it might be to only a small degree.
Two weeks had passed after my talk with Taguchi when one evening at about
ten o'clock, just as I was thinking of retiring to my bed, I heard a voice.
'Are you in bed, Sensei?' It was Rokuz5's mother, who had come into my
room even as she asked the question. Short and thin with a small head and
prominent features, she was an old-fashioned woman who always blackened her
teeth. Her mouth was slightly open and a benignly silly smile played perpetually
in her eyes and on her lips.
'I was just thinking about it.' As I spoke the woman sat down by the hibachi.
'I have a favor to ask you, Sensei,' she said. She seemed to find it difficult to
speak.
'What is it?'
'It's about Rokuza. He's such a fool that I wonder what the future holds in
store for him. When I think about it, I forget my own stupidity and can't stop
worrying about Rokuzo.'
'Of course, but there's really no need to worry so.' It was human compassion
that led me to utter such words of comfort.

Bit by bit that night I heard what the mother had to say, but what I felt most
strongly was her compassion for her child. As I said before, it was apparent at a
glance that she wvas not quite all there, but her anxiety for her child was no
different from that of a normal mother. I felt even more pity in that the mother
was close to being an imbecile herself. Despite myself, I wept tears of sympathy.
Eventually I sent the poor woman back with the promise that I would do my
best for Rokuz5's education, and until late that night I racked my brains over
what to do. From the next day I began to take Rokuz5 with me whenever I went
out for a walk and, as the opportunity occurred, I decided little by little to
provide something for his mind to work on. It was his inability to count numerals
that I first was aware of, for he was unable even to count the numbers from one
to ten. However many times I taught him, he could only repeat verbally the
numbers 'two, three' up to 'ten', but when I placed in a row three pebbles from
the wayside and asked him how many there were, he would merely contemplate
them in silence. When I pressed him for an answer, he would break into his usual
weird smile at first, but afterwards he would seem on the point of tears.
I for my part took great pains and worked with patience. Once we climbed

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200 Monumenta Nipponica, XXVI, 1-2

the stone steps of the Hachiman Shrine, counting them

three', until we stopped at the seventh. I told him that thi
but when I asked him how many steps we had thus coun
voice 'ten'. The result was the same when we counted pi
I tried tempting him with sweets to teach him how to cou
mind there was no connection between the words 'one
numerical concepts which the words implied. I had heard t
inability to understand numbers, but had never though
this. There were times when I felt like crying and the tear
ously as I watched the child's face.
Also, Rokuz5 was quite mischievous and there were t
startled people with his pranks. He was skilled at mou
would run about on Shiroyama just as if he were on level g
rapidly even where there was no path. Hence it had hap
Taguchi household worrying where he had gone, that
lunch and suddenly, towards nightfall, come racing do
Shiroyama to Taguchi's garden. I grasped that the reason th
had fled at the sight of Rokuz5 was surely that they had b
pranks many times in the past.
On the other hand, Rokuz5 was quick to cry. From tim
out of consideration for her brother, administered seve
even striking the child with the flat of her hand. At s
hang his head and shrink away screaming. Yet he was s
he had forgotten all about being hit. Seeing this I felt the
even more intensely.
From what I have said it would seem unlikely for him
like, but know them he did. He had off by heart such
gathering song, and he sometimes would sing them in
climbed Shiroyama alone. I had intended to take Rokuz5
not be found. Even in winter Kyushu is a warm region, so
be fair for it to be quite warm. Also, the air is clear, so wi
for mountain-climbing.
Treading among the fallen leaves I reached the sum
beneath the base of the keep. In the calm silence pervading
someone singing softly. I saw Rokuz5 sitting astride th
of the keep, dangling his legs and singing a popular song
into the distance. The color of the sky, the rays of the sun

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 TRANSLATION. CHIBBETT, 'Haru no tori' 20I

castle, and the young boy-it was quite a picture. The young boy was a mes-
senger of the gods. At this moment Rokuz5 looked to me not at all like an im-
becile. Imbecile and heavenly messenger-what a sad contrast! Yet I had a
profound impression then that, for all his imbecility, the young boy was after
all a child of nature.
One more of Rokuz5's strange characteristics was a fondness for birds. He
had only to see a bird for him to shout out with his eyes aglow. Yet he called any
bird he saw a crow and, no matter how many times I taught him the names, he
would forget them. Shrike or bulbul-to him it was a crow. There was one
amusing occasion when he saw an egret and called it a crow-amusing because
there is a popular saying 'to blacken an egret by calling it a crow',1 a thing which
was a matter of course for this child alone. Whenever he saw a shrike singing from
the top of a tall tree, Rokuz5 would stare at it with mouth agape; it was strange
to see him staring blankly at the place where it had been after it had flown away.
To him, birds, which flew about in the air freely, seemed a source of amazement.

4
I was doing my best for this sad child, but to no visible effec
thing and another the next spring arrived and with it came an
for Rokuz5. It was the end of March; one day Rokuz5 disappeared from early
morning and had not returned even when midday had come and gone. When
night fell and he still had not returned, there was great anxiety in the Taguchi
household and his mother particularly was restless. Therefore I decided it was
best first of all to make a search of Shiroyama. I took one of Taguchi's servants
with me and, with a lantern at the ready, climbed by my usual path to the castle
ruins-a strangely painful foreboding in my heart. I arrived beneath the base of
the keep with the feeling people usually call premonition.
'Roku-san! Roku-san!' I called. We strained our ears to listen, the servant and
I, as if by prearranged signal. What with being in the ruins of a castle and the
child we were looking for not a normal one, I felt a quite indescribable sense of
the macabre. When we emerged on top of the base of the keep and looked down
over the parapet of the stone wall, we discovered Rokuz5's body lying directly
beneath the highest angle of the wall on the northern side. It may sound like a
ghost story, but as a matter of fact after I knew it was past the time for Rokuz5's
return, I had a feeling that he had fallen from this high stone wall and was already

1 'To blacken an egret by calling it a crow.' To make a right into a wrong.

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202 Monumenta Nipponica, XXVI, I-2

dead. You may laugh at this as idle fancy, but I conf

Rokuzo had thrown himself from the top of the stone w
soaring about in the sky like a bird. There is no doub
flying about from branch to branch right before his
would surely have tried to fly up into the branches.
Two days after Rokuz5's funeral, I climbed up the
was unable to bear the various thoughts about the str
occurred to me as I thought about Rokuza. The differe
other animals; the connection between man and natur
problems brought a profound sadness to my young heart
wrote the poem There WVas a Boy2 in which he tells how
clasped night after night by a lonely lake, enjoying t
on the other side of the lake hooting in response to his o
of an owl. In the end, the child dies and is buried in a
returns to the bosom of nature. I was fond of this poem
felt that seeing Rokuzo's death and thinking on his lif
story even more meaningful than that of the poem. The
as I stood watching from the top of the wall. Might not
Even if that were not so, how much did Rokuzo differ f
His wretched mother wept, despite protesting that
blessing for him. One day I went to the cemetery to the
the intention of visiting Rokuzo's fresh grave. His mo
She was apparently talking to herself as she walked re
and seemed not to notice my approach.
'Why did you imitate the birds? Eh, why did you jum
what the Sensei said. He said that you jumped from th
you wanted to fly in the air. Is there anyone who preten
much of an imbecile he might be?' she said, but afte
'But it is better that you are dead. You are better off dea
Then she noticed me.
'Sensei, it is better that my Rokuzo is dead, isn't it?
tears.
'That could never be so, but it was an accident that you could not foresee, so
there is nothing but to resign yourself to it.'
'But why did he pretend to be a bird?'

2 Written by William Wordsworth in I799. 298-3I0. Kaiz6sha, Tokyo, I930.

Text from Kunikida Doppo zenshu, vol. 2, pp.

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 TRANSLATION. CHIBBETT, 'Haru no tori' 203

'That's my own fancy. There's no way of knowing for su

death while pretending to be a bird.'
'But isn't that what you said?' The mother raised her eyes
'Rokuz5 was very fond of birds so I just thought that mi
happened.'
'Yes, he did love birds. Whenever he saw one he would st
like this.' She flapped her hands in imitation of a bird. 'He
there trying to fly just like this. And he was good at mimickin
As she spoke her eyes kindled; at the sight I shut my eyes in
the woods on Shiroyama a single crow flew leisurely past,
times as it headed towards the beach. The mother sudden
and stared blankly after it, oblivious to everything. What
suppose that solitary crow was? I wonder....

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