d and angry, with a humming sound
like a swarm of bees. But the Coyote was still ahead; the sparks of the
brand streamed out along his flanks, as he carried it in his mouth; and he
stretched his body to the trail.
The Boy saw him coming, like a falling star against the mountain; he heard
the singing sound of the Fire Spirits close behind, and the labouring
breath of the Counsellor. And when the good beast panted down beside him,
the Boy caught the brand from his jaws and was off, like an arrow from a
bent bow. Out he shot on the homeward path, and the Fire Spirits snapped
and sang behind him. But fast as they pursued he fled faster, till he saw
the next runner standing in his place, his body bent for the running. To
him he passed it, and it was off and away, with the Fire Spirits raging in
chase.
So it passed from hand to hand, and the Fire Spirits tore after it through
the scrub, till they came to the mountains of the snows; these they could
not pass. Then the dark, sleek runners with the backward streaming brand
bore it forward, shining starlike in the night, glowing red in sultry
noons, violet pale in twilight glooms, until they came in safety to their
own land.
And there they kept it among stones and fed it with small sticks, as the
Counsellor advised; and it kept the people warm.
Ever after the Boy was called the Fire-Bringer; and ever after the Coyote
bore the sign of the bringing, for the fur along his flanks was singed and
yellow from the flames that streamed backward from the brand.
THE BURNING OF THE RICEFIELDS[1]
[Footnote 1: Adapted from _Gleanings in Buddha-Fields_, by Lafcadio Hearn.
(Kegan Paul, Trench, Truebner and Co. Ltd. 5s. net.)]
Once there was a good old man who lived up on a mountain, far away in
Japan. All round his little house the mountain was flat, and the ground
was rich; and there were the ricefields of all the people who lived in the
village at the mountain's foot. Mornings and evenings, the old man and
his little grandson, who lived with him, used to look far down on the
people at work in the village, and watch the blue sea which lay all round
the land, so close that there was no room for fields below, only for
houses. The little boy loved the ricefields, dearly, for he knew that all
the good food for all the people came from them; and he often helped his
grand father to watch over them.
One day, the grandfather was standing alone, before his house, looking far
down at t
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