"midwinter gloom the earth enshrouds,

yet from the skies

the blossoms fall

a flutt'ring shower,

white petals all!

can spring be come,

so soon beyond the clouds?"

kujohara no fukayabu (trans, by clara a. walsh).

yuki'onna

snow-time in japan has a beauty peculiarly its own, and it is a favourite theme of japanese poets and artists. both, for the most part, treat it artistically, as well they may do, seeing that in nippon the white flakes fall upon the ornate roofs of buddhist temples, upon the fairy-like bridges, resembling those we have seen on willow-pattern plates, and upon the exquisitely shaped stone lanterns that adorn so many japanese gardens. the ideal snow-scene is to be found in japan, and because it is so particularly beautiful it is surprising to find that yuki-onna,[1] the lady of the snow, is very far from being a benevolent and attractive spirit. all the artistry and poetry of snow vanish in her malignant presence, for she represents death, with attributes not unlike that of a vampire. but japan is full of sharp and surprising contrasts, and the delicate and beautiful jostle with the ugly and horrible. there is no promise of spring in the long white form of yuki-onna, for her mouth is the mouth of death, and her ice-cold lips draw forth the life-blood of her unfortunate victims.

[pg 150]

yuki-onna, the lady of the snow

the snow-bride

mosaku and his apprentice minokichi journeyed to a forest, some little distance from their village. it was a bitterly cold night when they neared their destination, and saw in front of them a cold sweep of water. they desired to cross this river, but the ferryman had gone away, leaving his boat on the other side of the water, and as the weather was too inclement to admit of swimming across the river they were glad to take shelter in the ferryman's little hut.

mosaku fell asleep almost immediately he entered this humble but welcome shelter. minokichi, however, lay awake for a long time listening to the cry of the wind and the hiss of the snow as it was blown against the door.

minokichi at last fell asleep, to be soon awakened by a shower of snow falling across his face. he found that the door had been blown open, and that standing in the room was a fair woman in dazzlingly white garments. for a moment she stood thus; then she bent over mosaku, her breath coming forth like white smoke. after bending thus over the old man for a minute or two she turned to minokichi and hovered over him. he tried to cry out, for the breath of this woman was like a freezing blast of wind. she told him that she had intended to treat him as she had done the old man at his side, but forbore on account of his youth and beauty. threatening minokichi with instant death if he dared to mention to any one what he had seen, she suddenly vanished.

then minokichi called out to his beloved master: "mosaku, mosaku, wake! something very terrible has happened!" but there was no reply. he touched the hand of his master in the dark, and found it was like a piece of ice. mosaku was dead!

[pg 151]

during the next winter, while minokichi was returning home, he chanced to meet a pretty girl by the name of yuki. she informed him that she was going to yedo, where she desired to find a situation as a servant. minokichi was charmed with this maiden, and he went so far as to ask if she were betrothed, and hearing that she was not, he took her to his own home, and in due time married her.

yuki presented her husband with ten fine and handsome children, fairer of skin than the average. when minokichi's mother died her last words were in praise of yuki, and her eulogy was echoed by many of the country folk in the district.

one night, while yuki was sewing, the light of a paper lamp shining upon her face, minokichi recalled the extraordinary experience he had had in the ferryman's hut. "yuki," said he, "you remind me so much of a beautiful white woman i saw when i was eighteen years old. she killed my master with her ice-cold breath. i am sure she was some strange spirit, and yet to-night she seems to resemble you!"

yuki flung down her sewing. there was a horrible smile on her face as she bent close to her husband and shrieked: "it was i, yuki-onna, who came to you then, and silently killed your master! oh, faithless wretch, you have broken your promise to keep the matter secret, and if it were not for our sleeping children i would kill you now! remember, if they have aught to complain of at your hands i shall hear, i shall know, and on a night when the snow falls i will kill you!"

then yuki-onna, the lady of the snow, changed into a white mist, and, shrieking and shuddering, passed through the smoke-hole, never to return again.

[pg 152]

kyuzaemon's ghostly visitor

according to mr. r. gordon smith, in his "ancient tales and folk-lore of japan," "all those who die by the snow and cold become spirits of snow." that is to say, all those who perish in this way become identified with yuki-onna, the lady of the snow. the following legend is adapted from mr. smith's book referred to above.

kyuzaemon, a poor farmer, had closed the shutters of his humble dwelling and retired to rest. shortly before midnight he was awakened by loud tapping. going to the door, he exclaimed: "who are you? what do you want?"

the strange visitor made no attempt to answer these questions, but persistently begged for food and shelter. the cautious kyuzaemon refused to allow the visitor to enter, and, having seen that his dwelling was secure, he was about to retire to bed again, when he saw standing beside him a woman in white flowing garments, her hair falling over her shoulders.

"where did you leave your geta?" demanded the frightened farmer.

the white woman informed him that she was the visitor who had tapped upon his door. "i need no geta," she said, "for i have no feet! i fly over the snow-capped trees, and should have proceeded to the next village, but the wind was blowing strongly against me, and i desired to rest awhile."

the farmer expressed his fear of spirits, whereupon the woman inquired if her host had a butsudan (a family altar). finding that he had, she bade him open the butsudan and light a lamp. when this was done the woman prayed before the ancestral tablets, not forgetting to add a prayer for the still much-agitated kyuzaemon.

[pg 153]

having paid her respects at the butsudan, she informed the farmer that her name was oyasu, and that she had lived with her parents and her husband, isaburo. when she died her husband left her parents, and it was her intention to try to persuade him to go back again and support the old people.

kyuzaemon began to understand as he murmured to himself: "oyasu perished in the snow, and this is her spirit i see before me." however, in spite of this recollection he still felt much afraid. he sought the family altar with trembling footsteps, repeating over and over again: "namu amida butsu!" ("hail, omnipotent buddha!")

at last the farmer went to bed and fell asleep. once he woke up to hear the white creature murmur farewell; but before he could make answer she had disappeared.

the following day kyuzaemon went to the next village, and called upon isaburo, whom he now found living with his father-in-law again. isaburo informed him that he had received numerous visits from the spirit of his wife in the guise of yuki-onna. after carefully considering the matter kyuzaemon found that this lady of the snow had appeared before isaburo almost immediately after she had paid him such a mysterious visit. on that occasion isaburo had promised to fulfil her wish, and neither he nor kyuzaemon were again troubled with her who travels in the sky when the snow is falling fast.

[1] see my land of the yellow spring, p. 39.