MOMOTARO, THE PEACH BOY - a story from Japan

Once there were a woodcutter and his wife who lived near a river and loved each other very
much.  Every day they prayed they might have a baby but none came.  Until one day the woodcutter
fished a large peach out of the river.  His wife cut it open and what did she find inside it?  A little
baby instead of a peach stone, all curled up asleep with his thumb in his mouth.

            ‘He is so cute,’ said the woodcutter’s wife.  ‘We shall look after him as if he were our own.’

            ‘And we’ll name him Momotaro, the boy-in-the-peach,’ added the woodcutter.

            His wife fed the baby some milk and, with every drop, he grew bigger and bigger until he was
a healthy boy, standing on strong. Plump feet.   The woodcutter taught him how to write and sing,
and the woodcutter’s wife made him dumplings, which were his favourite food.

            Now one night, while Momotaro was eating his dumplings, giants came sailing down the
river.  They stole food from the villagers, they trampled the farmer’s crops into the ground and
ripped the fishermen’s nets apart, just for fun.

            ‘Will no one stand up to the giants?’ Momotaro asked his mother and father while they were
hiding in the cellar.

            ‘They are too big for anyone to fight,’ said the woodcutter.  ‘It’s best to keep out of their way
till they are gone.  See, they have left already.’

            ‘I’ll stop them attacking our village,’ said Momotaro. 

            ‘But you are only a boy and they are powerful giants,’ cried the woodcutter’s wife.

            ‘And they live in a castle far up river,’ added the woodcutter.  ‘No one who went there ever
came back.’

            ‘The giants might be big,’ agreed Momotaro, ‘but I’ll take them on still.  Mama, put the rest of
my dumplings in a basket.’

            There were four dumplings left for Momotaro’s dinner, and the woodcutter’s wife put them in
a little basket.  Momotaro asked his parents to bless him, and then he set off along the banks of the
river.

            By morning, he came to a forest.   A monkey was swinging from a tree with his tail, like a
pendulum in a clock.

            ‘What have you there?’ he asked Momotaro, eyeing the basket.

            ‘Dumplings,’ said Momotaro.  ‘One for you and three for me.’

            The monkey ate the dumpling and then he chattered, ‘Where are you going/’

            ‘To fight the giants in their castle,’ said Momotaro.

            ‘If you promise to give me more dumplings when we get home, I’ll come with you,’ said the
monkey, and hopped on to Momotaro’s shoulder.

            By noon, the two of them came to a deserted farm.  A dog was lying outside his kennel.
            ‘What have you there?’ the dog asked Momotaro.

            ‘Dumplings,’ replied Momotaro, ‘one for you and two for me.’

            The dog gobbled up the dumpling, and then he barked, ‘Where are you two going?’

            ‘To fight the giants,’ said Momotaro.

            ‘If you promise to give me more dumplings when we get back,’ said the dog, ‘I’ll come with
you.’

            And he followed Momotaro and the monkey along the river, wagging his tail.

            By sundown they came to an island.  A pheasant was sitting on the sand, preening his feather.

            ‘What have you there?’ the pheasant asked Momotaro, dipping his beak in the basket.

            ‘Dumplings,’ said Momotaro, ‘one for you and one for me.’

            The phesant ate the dumpling and then he asked, ‘where are you three going?’

            ‘To fight the giants,’ replied Momotaro.

            ‘If you promise to give me more dumplings, I’ll come with you,’ said the phesant.  And he
waddled behind Momotaro, pecking at the earth.

            By and by, the four of them came to the giant’s castle.  The giants were all inside, tucking into
a feast of roast cow and bull and some of them were spitting bones out of the window.  The noise
they made was deafening.

            Momotaro ate his dumpling and then he said, ‘The door to the castle is locked but by hook or
by crook, we shall win.’

            They waited until the giants were asleep.  Then the pheasant flew in through the window and
stole the key to the door.  The donkey climbed up and put the key in the lock, and the dog leapt in
and blew out the lamps.

            The giants all woke up, too full of food to fight, and stumbled around in the dark, looking for
their swords.

            The pheasant started pecking their hair, the monkey pulled their ears, the dog bit them on the
leg and Momotaro prodded them with his sword.  The giants thought they were fighting other
giants.

            ‘Please, spare our lives,’ they begged.  ‘We’ll give you all our treasure.’

            ‘And you must promise never to attack people again,’ insisted Momotaro.

‘We promise,’ sobbed the giants.

‘Remember, a promise is a promise,’ said Momotaro.  He relit the lamps and they giants realised
they had been fooled by a boy, a monkey, a dog and a pheasant.

            They felt so foolish, they fetched their treasure without another word.

            Momotaro and his friends returned home to the woodcutter and his wife, and with all that
treasure they could afford to eat the best dumplings every day for the rest of their lives.