Jimmu had expiated his fault, and was again in favor with the gods. The chief whom he now faced surrendered without a blow, and presented the conquering hero with a sword. A picture of this scene, famous in the early history of Japan, is printed on one of the Japanese greenback notes issued in 1872.

The victor next sought the mountain-defended land of Yamato, which was to be reached only by difficult mountain-passes, unknown to the chief and his followers. But the gods had taken him in charge and came to his aid, sending a giant crow, whose wings were eight feet long, to guide him to the fertile soil of Yamato. A crow with smaller spread of wing might have done the work as well, but would have been less satisfactory to the legend-makers.

Fierce was the conflict now impending, and stern the struggle of the natives for life and liberty. Here were no peaceful chiefs, like the one met at Arasaka, and only by dint of trenchant blows was the land to be won. On went the fight, victory now inclining to one side, now to the other, until in the midst of the uncertain struggle the gods sent down a deep and dark cloud, in whose thick shadow no man could see his foe, and the strife was stayed. Suddenly, through the dense darkness, a bird in the shape of a hawk came swooping down from the skies, enveloped in a flood of golden light, and, dispersing the cloud, rested upon the hero's bow. The light shed by his refulgent wings struck like the glare of lightning upon the eyes of the enemy, so dazzling them with its radiance that they broke into panic flight.

A victory gained in such a fashion as this does not seem quite satisfactory to modern ideas. It is not fair to the other side. Yet it was in this way that the Greeks won victory on the plains of Troy, and that many other legendary victories were obtained. One cannot help wishing that the event of battle had been left to the decision of brave hearts and strong hands, instead of depending upon the interposition of the gods. But such was the ancient way,—if we choose to take legend for truth,—and we must needs receive what is given us, in default of better.

At any rate, Jimmu was now lord of the land, and built himself a capital city at Kashiwabara, near the site of the modern Kioto, from which he governed the wide realms that the sword had made his own. The gods were thanked for their aid by imposing religious ceremonies, and the people rejoiced in the peace that had come upon the land. The soldiers who had followed the hero to victory were amply rewarded, and his chiefs made lords of provinces, for the control over which they were to pay in military service. Thus early a form of feudal government was established in Japan.

FUJIYAMA.

All being now at peace within the realm, the weapons of war were hung up in home and temple, sacrifices were offered to the goddess of the Sun, and the three sacred emblems of the new kingdom, the mirror, the sword, and the ball, were deposited with solemn ceremonies in the palace of the emperor.

The remainder of Jimmu's story may be briefly told. He took for bride the princess Tatara, the daughter of one of his chiefs, and the most beautiful woman in all the land. The rest of his life was spent in strengthening his rule and extending the arts of civilization throughout his realm. Finally he died, one hundred and thirty-seven years old, as the Kojiki states, leaving three children, one of whom he had chosen as the heir of the throne.

That there was an actual Jimmu Tennō is more than any one can say. Of course the crow and kite, serpents and spiders, are myths, transformed, perhaps, from some real incidents in his career, and the gods that helped and hindered were doubtless born in men's fancies in later days.