s the direct path to the country of the moon. There dwell the moon
maidens, creatures so lovely that it is beyond me to describe them. They
are dressed in white glistening mantles, and spend their lives dancing
and singing to the stars. On great occasions, such as birthdays, they
are allowed to visit our country, some even to gaze on the all-glorious
Fuji. But though they swim across the sea, and often spread out their
mantles to dry when they reach the hills, yet must they always be sure to
put their mantles on again before they leave our shores, or they will
fade and vanish into nothingness, and never again reach the moon where is
their home.

There was once a Moon Maiden who was fairer to look upon than all the
others, and danced more divinely than any of them. Her name was Tsuki,
the Daughter of the Moon. To her, too, was it granted on her birthday to
visit our country, and to gaze on the all-glorious Fuji.

Wrapping her feather mantle round her, she swam down the path which leads
from the moon across the blue sea to our shores.

When she arrived on the sands among the pine trees, she searched about
for some spot where she might hang her feather mantle to dry, while she
climbed a neighbouring hill to gaze on the all-glorious Fuji. She saw
one pine tree taller than the others, with a flat surface of branches at
the top, and taking her glistening, dripping mantle with her, she flew to
the topmost branch. There she spread out her mantle and left it to dry.

She then fled away to the neighbouring peak, which, climbing, she beheld
Fuji, bathed in moonlight, and realised that even in her own moon-land
she had never seen anything so beautiful.

While she was gazing in wonder at our pearl of mountains, a poor
fisherman who lived in a cottage close to the sea came out to tend his
nets.

His name was Yama, and he lived alone. My great-grandfather's nest was
close to his cottage, and Yama loved my great-grandfather and often spoke
to him of his dreams.

On this night when Tsuki came to earth, Yama, tempted by the glory of the
sea and stars, did not go into his cottage again, but wandered aimlessly
along the shore thinking of his lonely life, and dreaming of the moon.

Unconsciously he raised his eyes to the tops of the pine trees that
fringed the sandy shore, and his attention was caught by something white
and glistening on the top of one of them.

"Is that some dead white bird lying yonder?" he thought. "'T