One day the Moon ran into the earth passage earlier than she should have done, and before the Sun himself had passed through. So offended was he that he robbed her of all her heat and much of her light, and she was never able to keep pace with him in the Sky.
Not knowing why her light had grown dim, or what had become of her, the Little Turtle went out to see what was the matter. He found the Moon lingering along the underground trail. There was just a little light and heat left to her, and barely a strip of her once glorious body—just as much as one sees of the new Moon nowadays.
Little Turtle brought her out and tried to mend her. But it was of no use. She would become better for a time and then relapse. Soon she would improve again until she was almost as strong as ever she had been; then again she would begin to fade away until at last only a tiny strip was left of her, and she had almost no heat. And this trick of changing has been repeated many, many times. Indeed, to this day the Moon continually changes her shape.
THE PRINCESS MOONBEAM[[1]]
Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
A woodman once dwelt with his wife at the edge of the forest, under the shadow of the Honorable Mountain. The two were industrious and good, but though they loved each other they were not happy. No children had come to bless them and this the wife mourned deeply. The husband pitied her and treated her very kindly, yet still she was sad. As she gazed upon the snows of Fujiyama her heart swelled within her and she prostrated herself and said, "Fuji no Yama, Honorable Mountain, my heart is heavy because no childish arms encircle my neck, no little head nestles in my bosom. From thy eternal purity send some little white soul to comfort me!"
The Honorable Mountain spoke not; yet as she prayed, lo, from its heights there sparkled and glowed a tiny light. Fitful and gleaming it seemed, yet it had a silver radiance as of the moon.
The woodman's wife beheld it, and she called to her husband eagerly, "Come hither, I pray you. See the strange light which comes from Fuji San. I seem to see a face smiling at me. It is the face of a little child."
Then her husband smiled at her fancy, but, because he loved her so, he said, indulgently, "I will go and see what it is."
"I thank you, my lord; go quickly!" she replied.
So, quickly he went to the forest, and as he neared a mountain stream, with Fuji gleaming cold and white in the moonlight, he saw the strange light, which seemed to hover and rest upon the branches of a tall bamboo. Hastening thither he found there a moon child, a tiny, fragile, fairy thing, more beautiful than any child he had ever seen.