THE HARA-KIRI.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XX, Issue V, 29 January 1898, Page 123

THE HARA-KIRI.

PABT I. CIOLONEL DAVIDSON was dying. / The old traveller, who bore the sears of many thrilling adventures, whose iron constitution had stood by him during years of travel in far-off dimes—was at last called upon to meet the inevitable. As the grey head rolled restlessly to and fro on the white pillow, the doctor and Mr Warner, the Colonel’s old lawyer and lifelong friend, stood sadly by and ministered to the wants of the sufferer, until as the first faint glimmer of dawn came through the open window, the soul of the invalid took its flight. Colonel Davidson was a bachelor. During his many years of travel he had picked up here and there odd curios, until his big. rambling house was filled with an interesting collection that was a never-failing source of entertainment to his friends. Less than an hour before the Colonel died he opened his eyes and turning towards the old lawyer said with difficulty : ‘Warner, after I'm gone I want you to sec that the doctor gels that sword of mine.' He raised his hand and pointed to an odd-looking weapon that hung over the mantel. ‘lt's a Japanese affair,' he continued, feebly, "and I've always prized it because of its interesting history. You'll find the story of it among my papers, and don’t fail to give that to the doctor with the sword.’ About a week after the Colonel's funeral the doctor received the sword. It was securely wrapped, and with it was this note from Mr Warner ;

My Dear Doctor, —I send you the sword. The history does not accompany it because I have not yet found it among the Colonel’s papers. It will doubtless come to light soon, and I will mail it to you at once. Sincerely vburs. CHARLES ALFRED WARNER.

The doctor undid the wrappings and examiued the weapon curiously, for, although he had often noticed it hanging over the mantel of the Colonel’s bedroom, he had never before had opportunity to examine it closely. He noticed as he unrolled it from the paper that it had a musty odour, pleasantly suggestive of antiquity and strange adventure. It was an odd-looking old weapon, about thirty inches long. The scabbard was plain, of wood covered with thick black hide and heavily tipped with brass. The hilt was a circular piece of brass covered with Japanese letters and designs. On one side of the scabbard was a flat projection which the doctor found to be the handle of a narrow-bladed hara-kiri knife that fitted snugly into a sheath made in the side of the scabbard. The blade of this knife was eight inches long, anti so much narrowed by repeated sharpenings that some characters engraved on the blade had been partly ground away. Slipping the hara-kiri knife again into its socket, the doctor drew the sword from the scabbard.

It was an ugly-looking blade, about two feet long, perfectly plain, heavy and thick, with its edge ground down to the sharpness of a razor. The handle was of metal, closely inlaid with minute bits of coloured sea shell and ingeniously wound with braided black silk in an open-work design showing the inlaid handle beneath. Set firmly into each side of the hantile was a small metal plate. One had letters engraved on it, the original owner’s name, the doctor thought. The engraving on the other was of such peculiar design as to excite the doctor’s curiosity. In the centre were wavering flames of fire, from the midst of which rose the ugly heads of five serpents, their fangs protruding from their mouths. This scene had the rising sun for its background. ‘That's a suggestive design.’ thought the doctor ; ‘certainly must have been very comforting. I suppose it’s the owner's coat-of-arms. lie must have been a regular old tippler to have chosen snakes for his crest. Perhaps he inherited them from a drunken grandfather. I wish .Mr Warner would hurry up with the pedigree. Meantime' I’m going to get some of this engraving translated if 1 can.' ‘Bridget.' he said, as that worthy came in just then to fill the office lamp ; ‘do you know any Japanese man ?’

‘Hiven sakes. no !’ ejaculated Bridget, nearly dropping the lamp in her astonishment at the question.

’Japinase mon indade !' she sniffed, 'an phwat wud 1 be wantin' of a Japinase mon? Shore an haven't 1 enough to do wid looking afther the hathen o' my own country without huntin’ up celisehils ?’ •I know you have,' replied the doctor, laughing. ‘lt's not for you. but myself I wanted him. I thought you might know where I could find one.’ 'lndade Oi do not.’ said Bridget, somewhat mollified. ‘or Japinase wimin nather. unless it be Timme wud do ye.'

•Just the man!' exclaimed the doctor. ‘1 wonder I did not think of him before. Say. Bridget, when you have tilled the lamp, will you go around the corner and ask Mr Roberts if he will let Timme come to my office for a few minutes ?' ‘Yis. sir. Oi will,’ said Bridget, as she went out, muttering to herself. ‘A Japinase mon, indade ! Why, if Oi had wan of thim Oi’d—' and words failing to rise to the possibilities of the occasion, she kicked a hassock that happened to be in her path so vicious] v that it rolled under the

piano. The doctor busied himself with writing for twenty minutes or so, when there came a soft knock at the door, and in response to his ‘come in' the Japanese entered. Tim, or ‘Timme, as he was commonly known in the neighbourhood, had been a waiter in the restaurant on the avenue for some years. He hail usually served the doctor when he took his meals there during his family’s absence in the summer. He was a small though muscular man, about 50 years of age. and with pronounced Japanese features. He was prompt and obliging, but never could be drawn into conversation, and with all his good qualities. there was something about the man, or in his face, which made the doctor instinctively distrust him. ‘Well. Timme, I’ve a Japanese sword here,' said the doctor, taking it down from the top of his desk ; there's some writing on it which I can’t make out. being’ a little rusty in my Japanese since I left school, so I sent for you to see if you could translate it for me.’

Timme. with a grin, laid down his hat and took the sword in his hands.

•Yes, it's Japan sword, sure ’nough; vere good one too. Belonged to big man, officer. 1 guess,' said Timme. in his peculiar cracked-pot voice, examining the weapon curiously. ‘What do those letters and design on the handle mean ?' asked the doctor.

The Japanese shifted his hands, which had hitherto covered the inscription on the handle, and, stepping over to the window, looked at the characters closely in the strong light.. He started visibly as he did to, and became greatly agitated. Muttering a string of unintelligible Japanese, he turned suddenly toward the doctor. His little eyes, usually so expressionless. were now widely dilated and snapped viciously ; the smile had died away and in its place was a look of cruel determination about the thin, compressed lips ;his yellow face was livid with a look of rage and hate. The doctor had barely time, in his astonishment, to note the. startling transformation in the usually inoffensive waiter, when the latter suddenly sprang from the window, and. drawing the sword from its scabbard, advanced threateningly upon the doetor.

‘1 must kill you ; there’s no help : you must die.’ ‘What do you mean ? Put down that sword,' exclaimed the doctor, thinking the man had gone insane, and now thoroughly alarmed. •1 mean what I' say ; 1 must take your life ; there’s no help for you.' lie cried, still advancing upon the doetor. and now the picture of murderous fury. There was no time to call for asistanee. In fact, it was done so quickly that it never occurred to the doctor to do so. Convinced that the Japanese intended to take his life, he sprang from his chair and around to the other side of his desk, placing it between himself and the would-be assassin. There was no weapon within reach with which to defend himself, so he grasped a chair, a small, heavy one of mahogany, sent him from the West Indies by a patient. Lifting it he prepared to sell his life dearly, just as the maddened man. with an exclamation in Japanese, rushed upon him. Seizing the handle of the sword in both hands and swinging it around

above his head, he brought it down with murderous strength. The doctor raised his chair just in the nick of time to catch the full force of the blow. To that solid old ehair the doctor to-day owes his life. The keen blade cut through two of its rounds, but the heavy seat met the blow with such force as to send the sword flying from the murderous grasp, and. spinning across the floor, it flew under the big sofa standing against the wall. The Japanese looked dazed for an instant at being thus foiled, but only for an instant, for he quickly turned and ran to where he had thrown the scabbard on the floor near the window. Picking it up. he drew forth the hara-kiri knife and again turned toward the doctor. This momentary respite was not lost to the latter. He had reached over the comer of his desk and. pulling open a drawer, drew forth his big revolver, which he always kept there, but had never before had occasion to use. It was a modern weapon, fully loaded, and carried a ball of 38 calibre. As the frenzied man again rushed at the doctor he found himself facing the revolver. Contrary to the doctor’s expectations. however, this did not deter him in the least from his murderous purpose. As he sprang forward for the second time with the keen-bladed hara-kiri knife raised in the air to strike the doctor fired. The shot took effect. The villain's right arm dropped to his side broken by the ball, and the knife fell from his powerless grasp to the floor. With a yell of pain and defiance, the Japanese sprang to where the knife had fallen, picked it up in his left hand, raised it high in the air, and turning his livid face upward uttered several words in his own language. Then, before the doctor could divine his intention, he plunged the knife into his own abdomen —and again—and again, pulling and tearing at the handle each time —and lastly, with a dying yell, drove it into his breast and fell to the floor dead. The hara-kiri bad been committed.

PART 11. The doctor was glad to see Mr Warner. when the latter called a few nights after Timme’s tragic ending. ‘Glad to see you again,’ said the old gentleman as he cordially shook the doctor's hand. ‘Well ! I see by the papers you have hail quite an experience.'

‘lndeed. I have,’ said the doctor. ‘I hardly know what to expect next, nowadays, when a man comes into my office.’

•Rather an unpleasant feeling I should judge.’ ,‘Decidedly. The affair gave my office so much notoriety that I fear it may rival Central Park as a suicidery. I like to be accommodating, but I really wish Timme had selected some other place in which to make away with himself.’

Mr Warner laughed. ‘Don’t worry about me. doctor. I've no thought of attacking you. much less of killing myself." ‘Thank you. I feel relieved. I was going to say that if you had I’d like the chance to take up some of my rugs, just to save the wear and tear, as it were.’

‘So it really all happened in connection with the old sword, did it ?’ said Mr Warner, nodding toward the weapon which hung on the wall.

‘Yes. The Japanese no sooner began to scrutinise the characters on: the handle than he went insane, and after nearly killing me with the thing, finished by killing himself.' ‘Humph ! romantic. Well. I've found the history, and after your dramatic experience the sword is doubly interesting to me. I must admit my curiosity is wrought up to a high pitch, so instead of sending it to you. 1 brought it myself, hoping you will give me a chanee to hear it.’ ‘Certainly,’ replied the doctor. ‘Light one of those cigars and make yourself comfortable, and we'll look it over together.’ The doctor took the well-filled legal envelope which Mr Warner extracted from his inside coat pocket. On the outside was inscribed in Colonel Davidson's bold handwriting : ‘History of my Japanese Sword.' Taking a pair of scissors from his desk the doctor carefully cut the end from the envelope and drew forth a bulky manuscript, also in the Colonel's familiar hand. Seating himself by the desk, he spread it open and read aloud the following account :

'This sword came into my possession while residing in Tokio during the winter of 1869. It formerly belonged to an official of rank under the Tycoon. named Ti Yama. By an ancient law no one but a man of the nobility is permitted to carry a sword in Japan. Ti Yama was a crafty old man who. though a favourite with the Tycoon, was so cruel that he was much hated by the people. In those days, when a head dropped into the basket every time the high officials winked ; cruelty in one in Ti Yama's influential position was often a good cause for hatred. Japan was at that time under a sort of feudal system, and was infested by organised bands of robbers, similar to the Italian banditti, who committed all kinds of outrages to persons and property. ‘By accident it was discovered that Ti Yama was in secret the chieftain of one of these bands of marauders, and he was condemned to death, together with six of his followers, who were seized with him. In Japan, when a man of rank was condemned to die. he might choose one of two options. Either to be killed by the public headsman, in which case his family were forever disgraced and his property confiscated by the Government, or if he possessed the courage he might commit hara-kiri. ‘This latter was an ancient custom, introduced into Japan during the Ashikaga dynasty, 1336 to 1568. The term comes from hara. a stomach, and kiri, to cut. It consisted in self-dis-embowelment with the hara-kiri knife, a keen, narrow blade, fitting into its separate little sheath made in the scabbard of every sword. Hara-kiri was only applied to the suicidal act. and was regarded as an honourable expiation for the crime committed. The ordinary culprit, of the common people, had no choice as to the manner of his removal from the earth. Decapitation followed as a matter of course. (I'nder the reign of the present enlightened emperor these barbarous methods and customs have been abolished.) Executions in Japan are strictly private, but through the influence of an official of rank I was smuggled into an upper room of the palace, and there, from behind the shutter of a window overlooking the court, I secretly witnessed the death of Ti Yama and his associates. When the hour came, the old robber chieftain, with his head erect, strode with dignified composure to the centre of the court set aside for the execution of criminals, followed by his trembling fellow-prisoners. When asked by whose hand he would die he made no answer, but calmly unfastened the belt that held his sword, and, laying it upon the ground, drew from its sheath in the scabbard the hara-kiri knife. Standing erect with a look of defiance on his face he plunged the blade deep into his abdomen and fell with an expiring groan to the ground. ‘The other six culprits who were to die had no choice. With their hands bound behind their backs they knelt on the ground, their heads bent forward and necks bared, while the headsman, a big muscular Japanese, picked up Ti Yama's own sword and dispatched them one after another. It is remarkable what skill a Japanese headsman attains in his gruesome work. So accurate is he that the head is completely severed from the trunk at one blow. To fail in this so that a second stroke would be necessary would result in the loss of his position and possibly his own life. ‘The slaughter effectually broke up that band of robbers. Those who escaped detection and capture fled from the country. Among them was Ti Yama's own son. who bore his father's name and was supposed to have embarked in a vessel bound for America. One of the condemned men confessed just before his death that the band had adopted a peculiar device —the heads of five serpents rising from flames of fire in the face of the rising sun —as its secret emblem. Each member of the mystic circle had sworn upon old Ti Yama's sword to kill at once any one upon whose person or property that symbol might be found. Failing to succeed in this, the one attempting it was to immediately commit hara-kiri. It was by ■narking this device upon the house or property that the intended victims were indicated. According to custom, old Ti Yama's sword fell into the hands of the headsman in lieu of n fee, and from him I purchased it shortly after the execution, lor an exorbitant price.

‘A Japanese never forget* or fails to keep an oath onee taken, and as a number of Ti Yama’* bandit followers escaped. and doubtless some of them are in America. 1 have thought it wise never to show this sword to a Japanese. fearing that should I by chance happen to show it to one of these desperate men the possession of that fatal symbol engraven on its handle might result in dangerous bodily violence to myself. Signed. EDWARD DAVIDSON? ‘Well, who would think that innocent piece of bric-a-brac could have such a thrilling story? said Mr Warner. as the doctor finished reading the narrative. That’s true.’ said the doctor : ‘it Is remarkable. If 1 had been less impatient and waited until I knew the history before showing it to that Jap it would have saved me considerable trouble? ‘Yes; we cannot always know what is best for us. I’m very glad, though, to have heard the tale? replied Mr Warner. ‘So am I? replied the doctor, thoughtfully. ‘However, there's one point lacking to make the tragic romance complete? ■What is that T To find out who this unfortunate Tininie really was.' ’Yes; but how can you do that ?' asked Mr Warner. •1 fear not at all. Wait ! I have one possible hope.' The doctor stepped to his telephone and rang the bell, while Mr Warner waited curiously. •Hello !’ ‘Hello I Give me the Fifteenth Precinct Station-house, 295. Boulevard, I think, is the number? After a moment’s delay he continued : ‘Hello ! Is that you. Captain Peek ? I'm Dr J. L Smith. I wanted to ask you if there was anything found out about that Japanese waiter who committed suicide in my office last week that would give a clue as to who he was '? The captain's reply came back over the wire : "No. doctor : he had worked in the restaurant for several years, but the proprietor. Mr Roberts, knew nothing about him beyond that. He had no possessions whatever but the clothes he wore. But wait —I believe there was something else. Hold the wire a minute until I look at the blotter?

The doctor repeated to Mr Warner what the police captain had said and waited impatiently, with the receiver at his ear. for the Captain to continue.

Hello:’ ‘All right, what is it ?* called the doctor.

‘The record of the case on the blotter says that underneath the Jap's clothing was a medal suspended from his neck by a cord? ‘Yes. what was on it '?' asked the doctor, eagerly. •On one side was a queer design—five snakes rising out of flaming fire. On the opposite face were some Japanese characters. The case seemed a dear one of suicide, yet in order to investigate it thoroughly the medal was submitted to the Japanese interpreter at the Criminal Court building. His report said that the strange design was probably the emblem of some secret order or society to which the man belonged. The characters on the reverse side were letters, he said, which, translated into English, would spell Ti Yama.” which was evidently the suicide's name."

Colonel Davidson's Japanese sword hangs in a conspicuous place on the walls of the doctor's office. The latter often repeats its story to his friends, vet he never takes the heavy blade into his hands that a shudder does not go through him at the thought of how nearly he came to losing his own life by its keen edge. And the slender hara-kiri knife is always unpleasantly eloquent to him of the tragic end of Timme? the son of old Ti Yama.