Such is the story of the miracle, translated from a small ill-printed
pamphlet sold by the priests of the temple, all the decorations of
which, even to a bronze lantern in the middle of the yard, are in the
form of a cuttlefish, the sacred emblem of the place.

What pleasanter lounge in which to while away a hot day could a man
wish for than the shade of the trees borne by the hill on which stands
the Temple of Fudô Sama? Two jets of pure water springing from the
rock are voided by spouts carved in the shape of dragons into a stone
basin enclosed by rails, within which it is written that "no woman may
enter." If you are in luck, you may cool yourself by watching some
devotee, naked save his loin-cloth, performing the ceremony called
_Suigiyô_; that is to say, praying under the waterfall that his soul
may be purified through his body. In winter it requires no small pluck
to go through this penance, yet I have seen a penitent submit to it
for more than a quarter of an hour on a bitterly cold day in January.
In summer, on the other hand, the religious exercise called
_Hiyakudo_, or "the hundred times," which may also be seen here to
advantage, is no small trial of patience. It consists in walking
backwards and forwards a hundred times between two points within the
sacred precincts, repeating a prayer each time. The count is kept
either upon the fingers or by depositing a length of twisted straw
each time that the goal is reached; at this temple the place allotted
for the ceremony is between a grotesque bronze figure of Tengu Sama
("the Dog of Heaven"), the terror of children, a most hideous monster
with a gigantic nose, which it is beneficial to rub with a finger
afterwards to be applied to one's own nose, and a large brown box
inscribed with the characters _Hiyaku Do_ in high relief, which may
generally be seen full of straw tallies. It is no sinecure to be a
good Buddhist, for the gods are not lightly to be propitiated. Prayer