In despair he bethought him of the box which was the gift of the
princess. Perhaps after all this dreadful thing was not true. He
might be the victim of some enchanter's spell, and in his hand
lay the countercharm. Almost unconsciously he opened it, and a
purple vapour came pouring out. He held the empty box in his
hand, and as he looked he saw that the fresh hand of youth had
grown suddenly shrivelled, like the hand of an old, old man. He
ran to the brook, which flowed in a clear stream down from the
mountain. and saw himself reflected as in a mirror. It was the
face of a mummy which looked back at him. Wounded to death, he
crept back through the village, and no man knew the old, old man
to be the strong handsome youth who had run down the street an
hour before. So he toiled wearily back, till he reached the
shore, and here he sat sadly on a rock, and called loudly on the
turtle. But she never came back any more, but instead, death came
soon, and set him free. But before that happened, the people who
saw him sitting lonely on the shore had heard his story, and when
their children were restless they used to tell them of the good
son who from love to his parents had given up for their sakes the
splendour and wonders of the palace in the sea, and the most
beautiful woman in the world besides.





The Slaying of the Tanuki
From the Japanische Murchen und Sagen.