The Ogre of Rashomon

Long, long ago, the people of Kyoto were frightened out of their wits by tales of a dreadful ogre that was said to lurk at the Gate of Rashomon at dusk and snatch anyone who went by. Those who vanished were never heard of after, and people whispered that the ogre was a horrible creature that ate its victims. Everyone in the city and the country around was terrified, and nobody dared go near the Gate of Rashomon after sunset.

At that time there lived in Kyoto a general named Raiko, famous for his brave deeds. Not long before, his name had rung through the land after he attacked Oeyama, the mountain where a band of ogres lived under a chief who drank human blood instead of wine. Raiko had scattered them all and slain the chief monster.

This brave warrior was always attended by a band of loyal knights, and five of them were men of great courage. One evening, as the five sat feasting, drinking sake from their rice bowls, eating fish of every kind, raw, stewed and grilled, and toasting one another’s health and adventures, the first knight, Hojo, said to the rest, “Have you all heard the rumor that an ogre comes to the Gate of Rashomon every evening after sunset and seizes everyone who passes?”

The second knight, Watanabe, answered, “Don’t talk such nonsense! Our chief Raiko killed every ogre at Oeyama. It can’t be true. Even if a few escaped that great slaughter, they would never dare show their faces in this city, for they know our brave master would attack them the moment he heard any were still alive.”

“So you don’t believe me? You think I’m telling you a lie?”

“No, I don’t think you’re lying,” said Watanabe, “but you’ve been listening to an untested rumor.”

“Then the best thing is to go there yourself and see whether it’s true or not,” said Hojo.

Watanabe could not bear to have his friend think he was afraid, so he answered at once, “Of course I’ll go and see for myself!”

So he made ready straight away. He buckled on his long sword, put on a coat of armor and tied on his great helmet. When he was ready, he said to the others, “Give me something to prove I’ve been there.”

One of them fetched a roll of writing paper, his box of ink and his brushes, and the four comrades wrote their names on a sheet of paper.

“I’ll take this,” said Watanabe, “and fix it to the Gate of Rashomon, so you can all go and look at it tomorrow morning. Maybe I’ll catch an ogre or two by then!” And he mounted his horse and rode off boldly.

It was a pitch-black night, without a moon or a single star to light his way. To make things worse a storm blew up; the rain pelted down and the wind howled like wolves in the mountains. An ordinary man would have shuddered at the thought of going outdoors, but Watanabe was a fearless warrior, and his honor and his word were at stake, so he galloped on into the night. His companions listened to the sound of his horse’s hooves fading away, then slid the shutters tight, gathered round the charcoal fire and wondered what would happen, and whether their friend would meet one of those horrible Oni.

At last Watanabe reached the Gate of Rashomon, but however hard he peered into the darkness, there was no sign of an ogre.

“Just as I thought,” he said to himself. “There are no ogres here at all. It’s only a rumor. I’ll fix this paper to the gate so the others can see I came, and then I’ll go home and laugh at them all.”

He fastened the paper with his four companions’ names to the gate and turned his horse toward home. At that very moment he felt that someone was behind him, a voice called out to him to wait, and his helmet was gripped from behind. “Who are you?” said Watanabe fearlessly. He reached back and felt around to find out who or what was holding him, and his hand touched something like an arm, covered with hair and as thick as a tree trunk.

Watanabe knew at once that it was an ogre’s arm. He drew his sword and slashed at it fiercely. There was a loud howl of pain, and the ogre leaped out in front of him.

Watanabe’s eyes widened in amazement. The ogre was taller than the great gate, its eyes blazed like mirrors in the sun, its huge mouth gaped wide, and every time it breathed, flames shot out.

The ogre meant to terrify him, but Watanabe did not flinch. He attacked with all his strength, and for a long time they fought face to face. At last the ogre, finding that it could neither frighten nor beat him, and that it might be beaten itself, ran away. Watanabe was determined not to let it escape, so he spurred his horse and gave chase. But fast as he rode, the ogre ran faster, and to his great disappointment it slowly disappeared from sight.

Watanabe rode back to the gate where they had fought and got down from his horse. As he did so, he stumbled over something lying on the ground. He bent to pick it up and found it was one of the ogre’s huge arms, which he must have cut off in the fight. He was overjoyed to have such a prize, for it was the best possible proof of his adventure. He picked it up carefully and carried it home as a trophy of his victory.

When he got back, he showed the arm to his comrades, who all hailed him as the hero of their band and gave a great feast in his honor. News of his marvelous deed soon spread through Kyoto, and people came from far and wide to see the ogre’s arm.

But now Watanabe began to worry about keeping the arm safe, for he knew the ogre it belonged to was still alive. He was sure that sooner or later, when the ogre had got over its fright, it would come to try to get its arm back. So he had a box made of the strongest wood, bound with iron. He put the arm inside, sealed down the heavy lid and refused to open it for anyone. He kept the box in his own room and guarded it himself, never letting it out of his sight.

One night he heard someone knocking at the porch and asking to be let in. When the servant went to the door, he found only an old woman of very respectable appearance. Asked who she was and what she wanted, she smiled and said she had been nurse to the master of the house when he was a baby, and if the lord was at home she begged to see him.

The servant left her at the door and went to tell his master that his old nurse had come. Watanabe thought it odd that she should come so late at night, but at the thought of the old nurse who had been like a second mother to him, and whom he had not seen for a long time, his heart filled with tenderness, and he told the servant to bring her in.

The old woman was shown into the room, and when the usual bows and greetings were over, she said, “Master, the story of your brave fight with the ogre at the Gate of Rashomon is so famous that even your poor old nurse has heard it. Is it really true, as everyone says, that you cut off one of the ogre’s arms? If so, you deserve the highest praise!”

“I was very disappointed,” said Watanabe, “that I couldn’t take the monster prisoner, as I wanted to, instead of just cutting off an arm.”

“I’m so proud that my master was brave enough to cut off an ogre’s arm,” said the old woman. “Nothing compares with your courage. It is the great wish of my life to see that arm before I die,” she added pleadingly.

“No,” said Watanabe. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”

“But why not?”

“Because ogres are very revengeful creatures, and if I open the box, there’s no knowing whether the ogre might suddenly appear and carry off its arm. I had a box made specially with a very strong lid, and I keep the arm locked safely inside it. I never show it to anyone, whatever happens.”

“A very sensible precaution,” said the old woman. “But I am your old nurse, so surely you won’t refuse to show it to me. I only just heard of your brave deed, and I couldn’t wait until morning, so I came straight here to ask you.”

Watanabe was very troubled by her pleading, but he still refused.

“Do you suspect me of being a spy sent by the ogre?” asked the old woman.

“No, of course I don’t suspect you of spying for the ogre. You are my old nurse.”

“Then surely you can’t refuse any longer,” she begged, “for it is my heart’s great wish to see an ogre’s arm just one time in my life!”

Watanabe could hold out no longer. “Very well, since you want so badly to see it, I’ll show you the ogre’s arm. Come with me.” And he led her to his own room.

When they were both inside, Watanabe shut the door carefully, went to the big box in the corner and lifted off the heavy lid. Then he called the old woman to come and look in, for he never took the arm out of the box.

“What does it look like? Let me have a good look,” said the old nurse, her face full of joy. She crept closer and closer, as though she were afraid, until she stood right up against the box. Then suddenly she thrust her hand inside, seized the arm and cried in a terrible voice that shook the room, “Oh, joy! I have my arm back!”

And in an instant the old woman turned into the towering shape of the frightful ogre!

Watanabe sprang back, too astonished to move for a moment. But when he recognized the ogre that had attacked him at the Gate of Rashomon, he made up his mind, brave as ever, to finish it this time. He drew his sword in a flash and struck at the ogre. He was so quick that the creature only just escaped. It leaped up to the ceiling, burst through the roof and vanished into the mist and clouds.

So the ogre got away with its arm. The knight ground his teeth in disappointment, but there was nothing more he could do. He waited patiently for a chance to finish the ogre off, but the monster was so afraid of Watanabe’s strength and daring that it left Kyoto alone from then on. The people of the city could go out without fear, even at night, and the brave deeds of Watanabe have never been forgotten.

About this tale

“The Ogre of Rashomon” is the twentieth tale in Yei Theodora Ozaki’s Japanese Fairy Tales. Its hero is Watanabe, one of five brave knights who served the general Raiko, and Ozaki opens by recalling Raiko’s attack on the ogres of Oeyama.

The whole adventure starts as a dare among friends over sake: Watanabe rides to the gate to prove an ogre story false, carrying a paper signed by his four companions. Ozaki calls the monster an Oni, the Japanese word for this kind of ogre.

Read the original: Japanese Fairy Tales (Project Gutenberg)

Reading guidance: older children comfortable with horror, with an adult available to discuss it. The story includes man-eating ogres, a severed arm, frightening disguise and sword fighting.

The proof that becomes a vulnerability

Watanabe begins by rejecting a report because it conflicts with what he believes about Raiko’s victory. His signed paper is meant to prove he reached the gate, but the severed arm becomes evidence of something he did not expect. He revises one belief after a fight, then accepts the next visitor’s identity without comparable proof.

The ogre does not defeat the wooden box by force. It persuades the person guarding it to make an exception, using affection for his nurse and praise for his courage. The failure is not that the real nurse is untrustworthy: she is absent. The visitor exploits a relationship it does not actually possess.

List what Watanabe knows and what he assumes at the gate and at his own door. Write a question only his real nurse could answer. Would his friends’ dare still look like sensible investigation if the ogre had been stronger?

Talk about it

• Why did Watanabe agree to go to the Gate of Rashomon?
• How did the ogre trick Watanabe into opening the box?
• What evidence does Watanabe have that the visitor really is his old nurse?

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• The Goblin of Adachigahara — another Japanese monster disguised as an old woman
• The Story of Prince Yamato Take — a warrior hero who uses a disguise of his own
• How an Old Man Lost His Wen — a night-time meeting with a band of Japanese demons