"Good priest," said he, "I must tell you that my father has recently died. We did not like to explain the matter upon your arrival, because you were tired and much needed rest. The number of people you saw in the principal apartment had come to pay their respects to the dead. Now we must all go away, for that is the custom in our village when any one dies, because strange and terrible things happen to corpses when they are left alone; but perhaps, being a priest, you will not be afraid to remain with my poor father's body."
Musō replied that he was in no way afraid, and told the young man that he would perform a service, and watch by the deceased during the company's absence. Then the young man, together with the other mourners, left the house, and Musō remained to perform his solitary night vigil.
After Musō had undertaken the funeral ceremonies, he sat meditating for several hours. When the night had far advanced, he was aware of the presence of a strange Shape, so terrible in aspect that the priest could neither move nor speak. The Shape advanced, raised the corpse, and quickly devoured it. Not content with this horrible meal, the mysterious form also ate the offerings, and then vanished.
The next morning the villagers returned, and they expressed no surprise, on hearing that the corpse had disappeared. After Musō had narrated his strange adventure he inquired if the priest on the hill did not sometimes perform the funeral service. "I visited him last night at his anjitsu, and though he refused me shelter, he told me where I might rest."
The villagers were amazed at these words, and informed Musō that there was certainly no priest and no anjitsu on yonder hill. They were positive in their assertion, and assured Musō that he had been deluded in the matter by some evil spirit. Musō did not reply, and shortly afterwards he took his departure, determined if possible to unravel the mystery.
Musō had no difficulty in finding the anjitsu again. The old priest came out to him, bowed, and exclaimed that he was sorry for his former rudeness. "I am ashamed," added he, "not only because I gave you no shelter, but because you have seen my real shape. You have seen me devour a corpse and the funeral offerings. Alas! good sir, I am a jikininki [man-eating goblin], and if you will bear with me I will explain my wretched condition.
"Many years ago I used to be a priest in this district, and I performed a great number of burial services; but I was not a good priest, for I was not influenced by true religion in performing my tasks, and thought only of the good and fine clothes I could get out of my calling. For that reason I was reborn a jikininki, and have ever since devoured the corpses of all those who died in this district. I beg that you will have pity on my miserable plight, and repeat certain prayers on my behalf, that I may speedily find peace and make an end of my great wickedness."
Immediately after these words had been spoken, the recluse and his hermitage suddenly vanished, and Musō found himself kneeling beside a moss-covered tomb, which was probably the tomb of the unfortunate priest.
The Ghost Mother
A pale-faced woman crept down a street called Nakabaramachi, entered a certain shop, and purchased a small quantity of midzu-ame.[3] Every night, at a late hour, she came, always haggard of countenance and always silent. The shopkeeper, who took a kindly interest in her, followed her one night, but seeing that she entered a cemetery, he turned back, puzzled and afraid.