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Oraculous Tales
Sword of the Ramurai Written by Becky Ances Illustrated by Ryan Wilson
Meet The Gang Moo‑Cow The quiet, calm head of the gang. He may not always seem in charge or at the center of things, but don’t be mistaken; it’s all about the cow, man.
Keby An intelligent and easygoing young gardener and plant expert whose parents own an organic farm next door to Moo‑Cow’s pasture.
Ramses The most rascally and rambunctious ram you are bound to meet. Ramses is constantly getting into trouble and trying to talk his way out of it.
F.W. A kind little flucorder‑playing wombat hailing from Australia, F.W. tries to be good, but it’s hard when you’re best friends with Ramses.
Kiweenie A very fuzzy kiwi bird from New Zealand. When he’s not showing his smarts as Professor Kiweenie, he likes to eat, and talk about eating, bugs.
Rhetorical The Oracle He’s been around for ages, can see into the future, and is grumpy. Rhetorical may have other mysterious powers too, but don’t ask him or he’ll get snippy.
Table of Contents 1. The Sword and the Story................ 1 2. The Bell and Buddha.......................... 9 3. Behind the Paper Walls...................17 4. Ram on the Rocks. .............................22 5. The Ronin Recruit.............................30 6. Plan of No Attack..............................38 7. Lunch Break...........................................42 8. Nothing to Sneeze at.......................48 9. The Way of the Ramurai..................54 10. Call to Battle......................................60
Oraculous Tales
Sword of the Ramurai
Published by Moo-Cow Fan Club LLC. Moo-Cow Fan Club, PO Box 165, Peterborough, NH 03458 www.moocowfanclub.com First published in 2008 Text and illustrations Š 2008 Becky Ances & Ryan Wilson All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced, in whole or in part, in any form. All characters and content are the property of Moo-Cow Fan Club LLC, and not to be used without permission of the MCFC gang. Designed by Ryan Wilson Library of Congress Control Number: 2008910929 ISBN: 0982234007
For The Moo‑Cow Fan Club Fans
Chapter 1
the Sword and the Story “No way! F.W. totally cheated!” Ramses yelled, throwing his arms into the air. “No, he didn’t,” Rhetorical said with a sigh. “In checkers you are allowed to jump multiple pieces when you can.” F.W. smiled triumphantly.
“What? That makes no sense,” Ramses argued. “I think we should have a do‑over.” Ramses looked around to complain some more but realized no one was paying any
attention to him. Moo‑Cow and Keby were in the kitchen working on a new cookie recipe, F.W. had taken out his flucorder and begun softly playing, and Kiweenie and Rhetorical were already setting up the next game of checkers.
It was a rainy day and everyone was hanging out at Rhetorical’s cave. It wasn’t one of their usual hangouts, but Rhetorical had told the gang they could come over for a checkers tournament. Ramses opened his mouth to protest some more and then closed it again. “Fine,” he mumbled. “If they all want to let F.W. cheat, I don’t care.” He looked around Rhetorical’s cave, searching for something to do and then wandered over to a bookcase filled with dusty, thick, ancient‑looking books. He scanned the titles, picked up one and flipped through the pages. It looked really boring. “You got anything with more pictures in here?” he yelled over to Rhetorical. “Not that you’d like,” Rhetorical responded in his usual gruff manner.
Ramses sighed and looked around. The walls were covered with very old black and white photos, paintings of people in funny clothes, and assorted knickknacks. He almost turned away when a gleam of light caught his eye. As he looked closer, he saw a long, slightly curved tube displayed on the wall. Unlike most things in Rhetorical’s cave, it wasn’t dusty, but polished and shiny. Curious, Ramses took it down. It was completely black and smooth, except for some symbols etched onto it. One end was covered in woven thread and looked like a handle, so he grabbed it and pulled. Out of the black case slid a long, shiny silver blade. He held it up, and it reflected the glow from the fireplace. “Cool,” Ramses whispered to himself, turning it over in his hands.
“Hey Rhetorical,” he yelled, “why do ya have a big knife hanging on your wall?” “Knife?” snorted Rhetorical. “That is not a knife, Ramses; it’s a katana, a samurai sword, made long ago by Magoruku Kanemoto, the great Japanese sword maker.” “Wow, you’ve been to Japan?” asked Kiweenie, who had just made a move and jumped two of Rhetorical’s pieces. He was quite proud of himself; it looked like he was going to win. “Of course I have,” answered Rhetorical matter‑of‑factly. “I lived in a lot of places when I was a young oracle.” Rhetorical was an oracle. The gang never could figure out exactly what it meant to be an oracle, but as far as anyone could tell, Rhetorical seemed to have been just about everywhere and seen just about everything.
Anatomy of a Katana The katana is a curved sword with a single cutting edge. It is the type of sword most people recognize as a “samurai sword.� Katana are very carefully created; every part is important and has a name. Traditional katana are as much pieces of art as they are weapons.
Kissaki (Point) Boshi (Curved Edge) Ha (Edge) Hamon (Edge Pattern) Shinogi (Blade Ridge)
Saya (Scabbard)
Mune (Back) Habaki (Blade Collar)
Sageo (Hanging Cord)
Tsuba (Hand Guard) Tsuka (Handle) Tsuka Ito (Cord Wrap)
Kashira (Pommel)
He never bragged or boasted about his past experiences, but they would sometimes come out when he was telling a story. The thing was, Rhetorical didn’t only know about the past and the places he’d been, it seemed that he always knew what was going to happen in the future as well. That’s why no one was surprised when Rhetorical glanced at the board for a moment and quickly used one piece to jump over all of Kiweenie’s remaining pieces. “Hey!” Kiweenie protested. “What was it like in Japan when you were there?” asked F.W., stopping his song and jumping down from the chair. Rhetorical turned and gave them all a hard look. “Do you really want to know what Japan of long ago was like?” he asked in a low, serious tone. “Yeah, of course,” answered Keby, coming out of the kitchen. Moo‑Cow
followed close behind her carrying a plate of warm cookies. “Cookies and a story. What could be better than that?” “Might as well, seeing how our game is over,” answered Kiweenie, glumly. The rest of the gang nodded. Uncharacteristically, Rhetorical smiled. “Ramses, bring that sword over here. You’re going to need it.”
Chapter 2
The Bell and Buddha
Ramses slid the sword back into its scabbard. “I’m gonna need a samurai sword to listen to a story?” he asked. Rhetorical gave him a knowing look but didn’t answer. Kiweenie moved the game
table so they could sit around Rhetorical who was in his rocking chair in front of the fire. “Fine, I think it’s cool anyway. It’s just that you normally yell at F.W. when he touches your stuff,” Ramses said as he pushed himself between Moo‑Cow and F.W. to a spot on the floor in front of Rhetorical. “Hey!” protested F.W. “I don’t get yelled at for touching his stuff. You do!” “Whatever,” Ramses said, rolling his eyes. Rhetorical cleared his throat and began. “Well, my story begins in 1521, a time of great unrest in Japan. I was an apprentice to a master sword maker. We worked extremely hard, but it was very honorable work. My master Kanemoto made the finest swords in all of Japan, and the best samurai
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from all over the country would come to buy them.” “I spent my days carrying fuel for the fires and fetching large buckets of water. We would have a short break in the middle of the day, but aside from that, we worked nonstop from sunrise to sunset.” “Did you make swords yourself?” asked Kiweenie. “No,” said Rhetorical shaking his head. “I was just an apprentice, and apprentices were not allowed to touch the metal used to make the swords. I was only allowed to keep the fires hot, the water cool, and do errands as my master needed.” Ramses whispered to F.W., “An apprentice? It sounds more like he was a sucker.” “One day a week,” Rhetorical continued, “I had a few free hours, and I would go
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You Can Meditate! Learning to meditate is actually very easy. You don’t need fancy equipment or special clothes. All you need is a quiet place where you won’t be disturbed for a little while.
Sit on the floor (or a chair if it is more comfortable) with your legs crossed and your hands in your lap. Close your eyes and begin to pay attention to your breathing. Notice how you breathe. Does your belly move in and out, or does your chest expand? Keep your attention on your breathing and see each inhalation and exhalation. Your mind will likely begin to wander after a few moments, and you may begin to get restless. That’s okay; it’s natural. When you notice that you are thinking of something else, bring your attention back to your breathing. Try to concentrate only on your breathing for five minutes a day and increase the time as you get more comfortable with it. This is especially helpful if you are angry or stressed or even if you just want to give yourself a break from your day.
to a nearby temple to meditate. Most Japanese at that time were Buddhists, and Buddhists meditate to cleanse the mind of all distracting thoughts,” he explained. “Then Ramses must be a Buddhist master, because he doesn’t have any thoughts distracting him,” F.W. snickered. “I would meditate at the foot of a giant statue of Buddha,” Rhetorical said ignoring the interruption. “In front of the statue, sticks of incense were burning to remind meditators of pure moral conduct. They filled the room with a wonderful scent of flowers and herbs.” “Wow,” said Keby, sniffing the air, “you’re a good storyteller. I can practically smell that.” “Me, too!” said Kiweenie, taking some sniffs of the air with his long beak. Rhetorical continued. “During the spring, a cool breeze would blow through 13
the temple, bringing with it the scent of newly sprouted cherry blossoms.” As he spoke, a breeze ruffled the cape tied around Ramses’ neck and shook some tufts of fur on top of Moo‑Cow’s head. “But my favorite thing was the temple’s large bell. It stood over six feet tall and was ornately designed. Next to the bell was a large log suspended by rope. To ring the bell, you had to tug on the rope to swing the log, which was set up to strike the bell perfectly. The ring was unlike anything I’ve heard since: low, strong and ancient. It was a sound so pure that you felt it as much as heard it, and it would last for several minutes, getting softer and softer until all that was left was a gentle hum. It was the sound of great wisdom.”
Rhetorical grew quiet, remembering the powerful gong of the bell. “I wish we could hear something like that,” Keby said. No sooner had the words come out of her mouth than the room filled with a great, deep ringing tone. Everyone gasped and turned around. Outside Rhetorical’s cave, they could see the shape of what looked like a very large bell.
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“Rhetorical, is that…”Keby asked as she turned back to him. But he was no longer there. In his place, was a large statue of Buddha, with sticks of incense burning in front of it. They all looked around, confused and frightened. What had been just Rhetorical’s rough walled cave now looked like the inside of a Japanese temple. And Rhetorical was nowhere to be seen.
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Chapter 3
Behind the Paper Walls “Where are we?” asked F.W. His normally squeaky voice grew even higher with fright. “Wow!” said Kiweenie. “Look at us. Look at what we’re wearing.” They looked at one another and saw that they were each wearing a type of robe in 17
various rich, dark colors. The robe was held shut by a sash tied around the waist. “Hey, look at Keby!” yelled Kiweenie. Keby stood up off the floor so they could all see. She was also wearing a robe, but it was a beautiful light blue and green one with a design of pink cherry blossoms curling around it. Her hair, which she always kept in pigtails, was down and held lightly back with a ribbon. Ramses began to snicker. “I’ve never seen Keby in a dress before.” “Well, I’ve never seen you in one either Ramses,” she said, sticking out her tongue. Ramses looked down at his robe and noticed the sword was still across his lap. “Look,” he said holding it up. “I still have Rhetorical’s sword.”
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Muromachi Clothes The kosode (meaning “small sleeves�) was an everyday piece of clothing for both men and women during the Muromachi period (1300s ‑1573). During this period, the samurai ruled and clothing was simpler. Later the basic kosode was replaced by the more elaborate kimono that we think of when we picture Japanese clothing.
Samurai would often wear the kosode covered by a kataginu (similar to a vest) and a hakama (like baggy pants or a pleated skirt). Together these were known as a kamishimo. The hakama has seven pleats, five in front and two in back, which are said to represent the seven virtues of Bushido.
For everyday occasions, a woman of the Muromachi period might only wear a kosode and a very simple obi (belt) over her undergarments. The kimonos of later eras were up to sixteen layers thick and had very complex obi tied with elaborate bows.
“What’s going on? Is this some kind of weird oracle game?” asked Kiweenie, looking around the room for Rhetorical. “Okay, Rhetorical, come out, come out wherever you are,” he said, getting up and walking around the small temple to examine every nook and cranny. Moo‑Cow stood up calmly and headed towards the door. “I’m with Moo‑Cow,” said Keby excitedly. “Let’s do a little exploring!” “I don’t know,” said F.W. hesitantly. “I think we should just sit here and wait for Rhetorical to come and get us.” Moo‑Cow stood at the door, looking at it. It wasn’t like a regular door.
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It was more like a sliding panel that was made out of squares of crisp, white paper set into a wooden frame. Moo‑Cow couldn’t see through the paper, but it practically glowed with the sunlight from the outside. He opened the door slowly and poked his head out.
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Chapter 4
Ram on the Rocks
The first thing Moo‑Cow saw outside of the temple was a giant bell that was still giving off a faint hum. Next to the bell was a rock garden. Keby peeked out and noticed the garden.
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“Oh, a Japanese rock garden. How beautiful!” She hopped out of the door and saw a number of sandals lined up against the wall. The sandals were made out of wood and had little blocks on the bottom. “Hey guys, I think these are ours,” she said as she slipped hers on quickly. The rest of the gang came out of the room and tried to put the sandals on, but they were meant for feet, not hooves and paws. Keby walked unsteadily over to the garden, trying to balance on her strange shoes. “I thought you said there was a garden,” said Ramses, giving up on his sandals and walking over to Keby. “I did. This is the garden,” she said, pointing to a large area filled with tiny white rocks.
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Design a Zen Garden Below is an example a Japanese rock garden. It’s so much fun and so relaxing designing one on paper, that you might not even need a real one to help clear your mind.
Why don’t you try drawing the rock garden you’d like to have? Most rock gardens contain a few large rocks surrounded by white stones or sand and maybe a few patches of grass or plants. But, remember it’s really about the open spaces.
“What? I think this is just a parking lot or something. There aren’t any flowers or vegetables or anything.” “No, it’s called a Japanese Zen garden. Like meditation, it’s supposed to help clear your mind. There is also a lot of symbolism in the garden. The white pebbles can represent the sea, and the large rocks could mean different things,” she said, pointing to three big rocks set in among the white pebbles. “Sometimes they represent land, like the islands of Japan; or sometimes they represent animals. Those two could represent a mother tiger swimming with her cubs towards a dragon.” “Huh?” said Ramses. “That makes no sense. It’s just a couple of rocks. And why would a tiger be swimming towards a dragon?” “It’s all about symbolism and meaning,” Keby said. “And look how nicely raked the 25
lines are. To help clear their minds, monks will often rake designs into the pebbles.” They could see that a beautiful swirling pattern had indeed been raked into the white rocks. “Guys, I think we really are in Japan,” Keby said happily. “Uh, yeah well… It’s nice and all, but can’t we just go back into that room and wait for Rhetorical?” asked F.W. worried. “Oh come on F.W. Stop being such a worry wombat,” chided Ramses. “What?!” said F.W., getting upset. “Am I the only one concerned that we were just sitting in Rhetorical’s cave, and suddenly for no reason, we were transported to a different country?” he asked, his voice rising in panic. “And from the looks of things, we are probably in a different time period, too,” interjected Kiweenie. 26
“Different time period!” he squeaked, his little brown face going pale. “Well, we can’t be sure. It doesn’t look like anyone else is in here,” Keby said, scanning the garden. The temple was small and enclosed completely with a solid white wall. The only room was the one they had just left. “Why don’t we go out and look around?” Keby suggested. Everyone nodded in agreement, except F.W. “Ramses, I think we should stay here, don’t you?” he asked, looking for support from his best friend. But Ramses wasn’t there anymore. Keby spotted him in the middle of the rock garden. With the end of the sword scabbard, he was writing “Ramses the Great Wuz Here” and drawing a portrait of himself in the pebbles like it was sand on a beach.
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“Ramses,” chided Keby, “come on. We’re getting out of here.” “Good idea!” he shouted. “Some monk is probably going to be pretty mad when he sees I uncleared his mind.” Keby rolled her eyes. “As usual, you’re missing the point. Let’s go.” “C’mon guys, let’s just…, F.W. protested, but no one was listening. He rushed to keep up with them so he wouldn’t be left behind. Ramses admired his masterpiece one more minute before running after his friends. As he ran to the gate in the temple wall, he was busy trying to slip his sword into his belt and didn’t see that everyone had stopped right outside. He tripped right over Moo‑Cow’s hoof and crashed face down into the dirt. The ground was shaking around him, and he heard a noise like thunder, despite the clear skies. Lifting his head up, Ramses 28
saw six armored samurai soldiers on horseback heading straight for him, all with horrible, monstrous faces staring out from under their helmets.
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Chapter 5
The Ronin Recruit
The riders thundered up to the group and reared their horses, making everyone jump back. Ramses scrambled up and stood breathless next to Moo‑Cow. The lead rider slid off his horse with a thud and approached the gang. 30
The samurai had a frightening face with a wide crazy looking mouth and a big bushy moustache. His face didn’t twitch or move, but it looked like he was laughing or screaming. Either way it was terrifying. The samurai examined each of them. Up close, they could see his horrible face was actually a mask. The whites of his eyes moved back and forth behind it. Knowing it was a mask didn’t make the samurai less frightening, though, and F.W. began shaking. When the samurai’s eyes met Ramses he bowed slightly. Keby hit Ramses and motioned for him to bow back. He bowed back, bending awkwardly at the waist. “Honorable samurai,” said the man behind the mask in a muffled voice. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Ramses looked around to see who the man was talking to. 31
Samurai Armor Samurai armor was made up of many layers to protect the samurai in battle. Each part has its own name and function. Can you match up the description of each piece with its Japanese name? Then you can cut out all the pieces and have your very own Ramurai paper doll!
#__Kabuto #__Shikoro
#__Nodowa
#___Haramaki
#__Kote
#__Sode #__Sode #__Suneate
1.Helmet 2.Body Armor 3.Throat Guard 4. Shin Guard 5.Right Shoulder Guard 6.Left Shoulder Guard 7.Neck Guard on Helmet 8. Armored Sleeves
“I think he’s talking to you,” Kiweenie whispered. “Me? How did he know that I was the leader? My good looks?” Ramses asked confused. Moo‑Cow rolled his eyes, and the man in the mask laughed. “Your Kanemoto sword, honorable samurai. It was your sword, not your looks that gave you away. That and your many servants of course,” he said, motioning to the rest of the gang. “Oh,” Ramses said relaxing. “Right, my servants. Exactly! Well, what can I do for ya pal?” The samurai bowed slightly again. “I ask, who is your daimyo?” “My dime‑what?” Ramses looked at Kiweenie, because he knew all sorts of things about history and language. “Daimyo means master,” Kiweenie whispered to Ramses. 33
“Master? Ramses has no master,” he said smugly as he crossed his arms. “Oh, a ronin then,” said the samurai, nodding his head. “Yeah, I’m a roamin’ man. Just roaming around with my servants here.” Moo‑Cow gave him a little kick in his leg. “No, Ramses. He said ronin, which is a samurai without a master,” Kiweenie whispered. The samurai continued. “Since you are a ronin, then I ask for your sword to join ours in battle tomorrow. You will be well compensated.” Ramses looked around at the rest of the group who were shaking their heads no. “Hmmm, sounds pretty tempting, but sorry, I don’t think I can make it tomorrow. Thanks anyway, though. Nice talking to ya.”
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“I see,” said the samurai coldly. “If you, or maybe your servants, feel that I am not worthy to fight alongside, then I respectfully request to duel with you to regain my honor.” “Um, no thanks, that’s okay. I’m kinda’ on vacation right now. I’m takin’ a break from duels.” “You shame me and yourself with a refusal of this duel,” the samurai said as he took a few steps back. Ramses, thinking that meant he was leaving, turned to face his friends again. “Phew, that was a close one. Let’s get out of…” There was a sound of metal sliding against wood. “Uh, Ramses, you might want to turn around,” whispered Keby, whose eyes suddenly grew bigger than her glasses.
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Ramses turned to see the samurai in a battle stance. He held his sword, tilted at an angle, above his head. The edge of the blade glinted wickedly in the sun. “You refused to fight honorably as the samurai code, Bushido, demands. Now we must fight as enemies.” Ramses looked over his shoulder for help and saw that his friends had left him and were hiding behind the temple gates. Only their heads peeked out. Ramses looked back at the samurai. “Heh, well honorable
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samurai, you…um… have passed my test with an A…uh…an A plus plus. You’ve proven you really know your um…burrito code, so I…uh…I will honorably join your honorable battle tomorrow.” He paused as the samurai lowered his sword and stepped out of his fighting stance. “How much did you say I’d get paid?”
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