Yamori
At the edge of the village of Toyama, almost right by the forest, lived an old man and an old woman. One autumn evening, they were sitting and warming themselves by the stove. Rain tapped on the roof, and the house was cold and damp. "Who are you most afraid of in the world?" the old woman asked the old man. The old man thought for a moment and replied:"Of course, the tiger. There's no one scarier than a tiger in the world!"
The old woman shook her head:
"That's true, a tiger is a fearsome beast. It attacks sheep, cows, and even horses. But we don't have any livestock, so why should we poor folks fear a tiger? No, I'm much more afraid of yamori—they're so nasty and slimy. Look, there's one crawling right now!"
And the old woman pointed to the ceiling: a small gray lizard, a yamori, was slowly crawling across it.
Meanwhile, outside the window, a tiger was lurking. It was a young, foolish tiger. It was creeping along the walls, trying to sneak into the house to eat the old man and the old woman.
The tiger had sharp hearing. Standing under the window, it heard that the old woman was most afraid of yamori.
The tiger felt offended. "What is this yamori? Until now, I thought there was no one scarier than me. But it turns out that yamori is even scarier. I'd like to see this beast," the tiger muttered to itself.
And it began to imagine what kind of face, fangs, and claws a yamori must have to be feared more than a tiger. In the darkness, the young and foolish tiger conjured up the most terrifying monsters imaginable on a rainy night under someone else's window. The tiger became scared. It felt as though the yamori was about to leap out of the house and pounce on it.
Suddenly, the old man inside the house shouted:
"Ah, it's crawling!"
At this, the poor tiger trembled with fear and took off running as fast as it could, faster than any old, wise tiger had ever run.
Only when it reached the depths of the forest did the tiger slow down.
"Well, now the yamori is far from me, and I'm far from the yamori," the tiger thought.
It almost calmed down and was about to catch its breath when it suddenly trembled with fear again: something had jumped onto its back.
"Yamori!" the tiger thought.
In reality, it wasn't a yamori but a man, a village horse thief.
He had been standing under a tree at the edge of the forest for some time, keeping an eye out for any loose horses wandering nearby.
And suddenly, he saw someone running on all fours toward the edge of the forest.
The thief's eyes lit up with greed: he thought it was a foal. The thief took aim, jumped onto the tiger's back, and grabbed its neck.
The tiger, in its panic, couldn't tell who had jumped on it, nor could it see what was happening on its back. It became even more frightened and took off running for the second time, faster than any old, wise tiger had ever run.
The thief barely held on to the tiger's back. He had never seen a foal run so fast before. Frightened, the thief clung even tighter to the neck of his "foal."
To the tiger, it felt like the terrifying yamori had sunk its claws into it. It ran even faster. And the faster it ran, the tighter the thief clung to its neck, and the tighter the thief clung, the faster the tiger ran. Terrifying each other, they raced deeper into the forest.
The tiger knew there was a mountain in the forest, and at the foot of the mountain was a deep pit. It was heading straight for that pit.
"I have to throw the yamori into the pit! If I don't, it will eat me," the tiger thought. Finally, it reached the edge of the pit and shook its head with all its might. The thief lost his grip, tumbled over, and flew headfirst into the pit.
Only then did the tiger catch its breath and slowly trudge away.
It was very tired after this evening.
Its tail drooped, its face sagged, and everything on its face—its whiskers and eyebrows—sagged too, except for its nose: a tiger's nose is flat and can't sag.
Not far from the pit, a monkey sat in a tree. When the tiger ran past, the monkey pointed at it and laughed.
"Why are you laughing?" the tiger asked, offended.
"You look so funny! What happened to you?"
"Oh, what happened to me! I just saw a yamori!" the tiger said.
"And what is a yamori?" the monkey asked.
"It's a terrifying monster! It jumped on me and climbed onto my back. But I wasn't scared. I ran to the pit and threw the monster to the bottom."
The monkey bared its teeth and laughed even louder:
"Oh, you fool, you fool! I saw who you threw into the pit. It wasn't a yamori—it was a man."
The tiger became angry:
"Monkey, you're talking nonsense. Prove it wasn't a yamori but a man!"
"What's there to prove? Go to the pit and see for yourself!"
The tiger shivered. It really didn't want to go back to the pit. But it couldn't refuse—it would be too ashamed in front of the monkey. It stood there, shifting from foot to foot, and since it had four feet, this went on for a long time. The monkey looked at it and laughed again:
"What a coward you are! Let's go together."
The monkey climbed down from the tree and bravely marched toward the pit.
The tiger had no choice but to follow the monkey. But it didn't go all the way to the pit, stopping instead near the edge, hiding behind a tree, and waiting to see what would happen.
The monkey approached the pit and leaned over.
"Well, what's down there?" the tiger asked from behind the tree.
"I don't know. It's dark in the pit; I can't see anything. How am I supposed to tell who's in there?"
The monkey thought for a moment.
"Ah, I've got it! I'll lower my tail down and feel around."
Now, it must be said that this happened a long, long time ago. Monkeys back then weren't like they are now. They had long, long tails—so long that a monkey could easily toss it over its shoulder and wrap it around its neck several times like a scarf.
So the monkey lowered its long tail into the pit.
Down in the pit, the thief was struggling. He tried to climb up the steep earthen wall, but each time the dirt crumbled, and he fell back to the bottom.
Suddenly, he saw a long rope being lowered into the pit.
"Finally, someone's come to help me!" the thief rejoiced.
He jumped up, grabbed the monkey's tail with both hands, and hung onto it.
The monkey immediately felt that someone had grabbed its tail. It got scared and tried to pull its tail back up, but it couldn't lift it because the thief was heavy and held on tightly.
The monkey pulled and pulled, yanked and yanked, but it couldn't free its tail. Its face turned red from the effort. The thief heard it groaning and thought:
"These kind people are really trying hard to pull me out! I just have to hold on!"
With that thought, he gripped the tail even tighter.
The monkey squealed in pain. The tiger heard the squeal, cautiously peeked out from behind the tree, and saw the monkey thrashing at the edge of the pit, tugging with all its might but unable to move away.
"What a disaster!" the tiger thought. "The yamori must have caught the monkey by the tail. Any moment now, it'll climb up the tail and jump out!"
The tiger shut its eyes in fear and took off running for the third time, faster than any old, wise tiger had ever run.
The monkey didn't even notice it was gone. With one last burst of strength, it yanked its tail. But the long tail snapped off and fell into the pit, leaving the monkey with only a stub.
From that day on, monkeys have had short tails and red faces.
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