Akutagawa Ryunosuke – Tiger Stories (Tora no Hanashi)

One December night, a father held his five-year-old son together in their living room.

Son: Dad, tell me a story!
Dad: What kind of story?
Son: Any kind. I know, tell me a story about a tiger.
Dad: A tiger? I don’t know about that.
Son: Please? I want a tiger story.
Dad: A tiger story… Alright, I’ll give you one. A long time ago, a Korean soldier, a bugle boy, was dead-drunk and passed out snoring on a mountain road. Just then his face got wet, and wondering what it was, he opened his eyes. At some point a tiger had shown up and was wiping his face with his wet tail.
Son: Why?
Dad: Well, because the bugle boy was drunk, the tiger thought it would get rid of the stink of wine so he could eat him.
Son: And then?
Dad: And then, gathering up his courage, the soldier shoved his bugle into the tiger’s rear. The tiger was hurt and surprised and ran away down, down to the village.
Son: He didn’t die?
Dad: He did, when he reached the middle of the town, he fell over and died because of his wound. But the bugle, still stuck in his rear, kept right on trumpeting.
Son: (Laughing) What about the soldier?
Dad: The soldier was praised lavishly as a tiger-hunter and got a huge reward… Okay, the end.
Son: No! One more.
Dad: Okay, but not a tiger story.
Son: No, I want another.
Dad: There aren’t that many tiger stories. Um, let’s see here… Oh, okay, I know one. Once, there was a Korean hunter, and when he went up to the mountains to hunt, he spied a lone tiger walking along at the bottom of a ravine.
Son: A big tiger?
Dad: Yeah, a big one. Thinking it was good prey, he loaded a bullet into his rifle.
Son: He shot him?
Dad: Well, right when he was about to, the tiger suddenly shrunk back, and jumped at a big rock behind itself. But it couldn’t quite reach the top, unfortunately, and tumbled back down to the ground.
Son: What then?
Dad: The tiger went back to where it was and tried again to jump up on the rock.
Son: Did it do it this time?
Dad: No, it fell again. Feeling ashamed, its long tail drooping, it went off somewhere.
Son: So the tiger wasn’t shot?
Dad: Yep, he thought it was a little human of the tiger to act like that, so feeling sorry for it, he let it go.
Son: That story was boring. Tell me another tiger story.
Dad: Another? How about a cat story? One that wears boots.
Son: No, tell me another tiger story.
Dad: Oh well. Alright, there was once a big tiger. And it had three tiger cubs. Every day when the sun set, the tiger would play with its three cubs. Then at night, it would go into a cave with them and sleep. Hey, don’t go to sleep yet.
Son: (Sleepily) I’m not.
Dad: One autumn evening, the tiger was hit with a hunter’s arrow, and returned just barely escaping death. The three cubs, unaware, jumped on the tiger. Just as always, the tiger jumped and danced around and played with the cubs. And just as always, they went into their cave and went to sleep together. But when they looked at dawn, the tiger had crawled in between the three cubs and was dead. The cubs were all surprised, and… Hey, are you awake?
Son: (Fallen asleep. No answer.)
Father: Hey, is someone there? He’s asleep now.
A far-off response could be heard: “Yes, I’m here.”

(December, Taisho 14)

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