“‘Armed men,’ he said and scampered away. “‘And I must stay here,’ I thought.” “Poor little match man!” “Oh, yes. If I had only been able to fly. Even a mosquito can defend himself, but a willow, even if he is large and has lived a hundred and fifty years, can’t protect himself from any peril. It is terrible!” “Indeed it is.” “But to go on. Not long after I heard a cautious step and a rustling among the shrubs. My leaves shivered all over when I saw approaching—guess what!” “A ferocious wild beast.” “Worse! I saw a man coming. “‘This is the first,’ I said to myself. ‘Now others will come—they will set fire to the woods, and I shall die tortured in the flames.’ And my leaves shook even harder, as if there had been I don’t know what kind of a wind. “But no more men came, and I began to calm myself and to look about coolly. This man was very handsome, and dressed all in silver armour. He was so exhausted he could hardly walk. It seemed to me he left drops of blood behind him. He breathed hard. He stumbled over tufts of grass, he fell and rose again and went on staggering. Where he fell the grass was covered with blood. I am telling the truth when I say I forgot my own danger, I was so full of pity for him.” “Good for you, Fiam!” “At last he fell, close to my trunk. I looked at him. He was very young. The armour on his breast was broken. He took off his helmet, which was tied with a red cord under his chin, and laid his head against me to rest better. The sun had risen and I gave some shade to the wounded man. Some time passed, but I don’t know how long it was when I heard a distant noise.” “Was it the others?” “Wait. I heard the sound of arms, of steps, of voices. Little by little the tumult drew nearer. It came from all sides. It filled the woods. And the young warrior also heard it. He rose slowly to his feet, and stood immovable, leaning against me listening. “Suddenly a voice shouted, ‘Haiya, Hay!’ a kind of hurrah. A hundred voices from every side called ‘Haiya!’ and the first said, ‘Come, I have found traces of his blood! Let us follow it! Hay!’ “The other voices howled, ‘Haiya’ with so much eagerness and satisfaction that I thought they were all friends and followers of this unfortunate young man, happy to find him to save him, and care for him. So little did I know about men.” “And weren’t they friends?” “Far from it! The first voice said, ‘He can’t escape us any longer! He is our prisoner!’ The others echoed, ‘He is ours. Haiya!’ They were enemies looking for him, do you understand? He heard them. He knelt down and bowed his head calling on Amaterasu, the god of the sun, the god who made Japan. Then he took off his armour and bared his chest, which was covered with blood, and put his hand to his side to find the hilt of his sword. I saw at once that he didn’t wish to fall alive into the hands of his enemies, and I decided to save him.” [Illustration: The Haji Saves the Warrior] CHAPTER V