Tiro, the Honest Woodcutter

Northland Age, Volume 3, Issue 52, 28 September 1934, Page 6

Tiro, the Honest Woodcutter

Adapted from the Japanese

Long, long ago there dwelt in Japan at the foot of a mountain a poor woodcutter. Every day at dawn he went up the mountain and cut wood until sundown every day through the winter’s stinging cold and summer’s burning sun ; for Jiro had not only his mother to toil for but also bis little brother and sister, and he did it gladly. One day, instead of climbing the mountain, he went to the river bank and chopped down trees. They were enormous and Jiro grew very tired. “I’ll chop off that big branch leaning over the river,” he said, “and then rest a while.” He cut through the branch and it fell so that half of it lay in the water. Jiro raised his axe to chop off the part in the river so that he might more easily pull it ashore. But his tired hands could not hold the axe. It dropped into the river and quickly sank out of sight. Poor Jiro jumped into the river and many times did he dive, hoping to find his axe. Finally he was obliged to give up the search, he was so very tired. He swam ashore, sat down and wept, for, alas, he had no money to buy another, and therefore no longer could chop wood to sell. He knew no other way to earn a living for his dear mother, brother and sister. While he sat weeping he heard a sweet voice say : “What is the trouble, my boy?’.’ Brushing the tears from his eyes Jiro looked up and saw a lovely maiden floating on the water, and he was so amazed that for a while he was dumb. But she kept on urging him to tell her his grief. Finally, he managed to explain why he wept so bitterly. “Oh!” exclaimed the maiden. “Is that all? Well, stop grieving. Wait and I will get it for you.” Then she disappeared in the water. Hardly had Jiro time .to wonder what had become of her when she arose above the river’s surface carrying a silver axe that was the most beautiful thing the poor woodcutter had ever seen. “Is this yours?” she asked. “Oh, no!” exclaimed Jiro. “A poor

fellow like me couldn’t own such an axe.” The maiden threw the silver axe on the shore, saying: “I’ll try again,” and dived deep in the river. Jiro, breathless, waited for her to come to the surface. This time she stayed down longer in the water, and when she arose she was holding an axe made of pure gold. Oh, how it glittered in the sunlight! “This must be yours,” she said. Jiro, gazing at the sparkling axe, cried : “No ! No ! Mine was only a common axe with a wooden handle.” The maiden threw the gold axe on the shore beside the silver one and said : “Well, I’ll try once more.” This time she arose carrying Jiro’s axe. “Yes ! Yes ! That’s mine ! ” shouted Jiro. “Most honorably I thank you ! ” The maiden swam near enough to the shore to hand the axe to Jiro. Smiling, she said : “You have been proof against temptation. An honest person like you deserves good fortune. Therefore I give you the silver and gold axes to do with as you please.” Instantly she vanished ; but whether up in the air or down in the water Jiro could not tell. He rubbed his eyes. Had he been dreaming? No.

There were the gold and silver axes as well as his own. Jiro carried the three axes home, and told the family all that had happened. The next day he went to the city and sold the two wonderful axes for more money than he had supposed even the Mikado (Japanese Emperor) possessed.