Once upon a time, in far off Japan, a band of fierce robbers had their
hiding place on top of a mountain almost always covered with grey clouds,
windswept and battered by storms. The robbers lived in a large cave where they
had piled their spoils. Now and again, they went down the mountain, attacked a
village, murdered the poor folk they chanced upon, stole whatever they could
lay hands on and burned it to the ground. Wherever the robbers passed, there
was nothing but smoking ruins, weeping men and women, misery, mournlng and
desolation.
The Emperor, worried at this, had sent his soldiers to attack the mountain,
but the robbers had always managed to drive them off. The Emperor sent for one
of the last remaining Samurai, old Raiko, and said to him:
"Raiko, you've served me for many years. Do my bidding for one last time.
Go to the mountain at the head of an army and wipe out these bloodthirsty
bandits." Raiko sighed.
"Your Majesty, if I were young again I'd do it alone. Today I'm too old,
far too old to do that, or to command an army."
"Must I then," said the Emperor, "submit to the force of these marauding
robbers?" The old Samurai replied:
"No, I'll go up there with six Samurai like myself."
"But if they're all as old as you, how can they help you?"
"Have faith in us!" said Raiko.
