It was not long before the materially hungry southerners, living in larger towns with standing armies, began to press northward seeking more riches. It was a matter of time before they came across the village clans, whose lack of defense against the strong armies meant their villages were plundered time and again. The villagers remained in constant terror for their lives as the raids became more frequent.

In one such village, the raiders had come many times, confiscating crops and demanding such exorbitant tribute from the villagers each year that the village was literally beginning to starve. The villagers were harassed continually, their land was stripped from being worked so hard, and their young boys were killed by the armies so that the village would have no chance to set up its own defense. The villagers decided that something must be done.

They prepared their strongest, most able young man with food and water for a long journey and sent him to seek help. His task was to find whatever help he could to save the village from certain destruction. The young man made his way toward the sacred mountains, and after journeying many days and nights, he reached the foothills and began to climb. Each night he would rest for a few hours before regaining strength to begin again. As he rested, he would pray to the gods to help him save his people--but he was answered only by silence. In the morning, he would again begin climbing higher and higher. Finally, after several days of following a single path that reached toward the peaks of the mountains, the young man stood at the top of a tall crest and looked into the lush and beautiful Fukushima Valley. Through the thick green forest fell a sparkling waterfall. The sun shone so perfectly on it that as the beams struck the cascading water, a permanent glimmering rainbow was formed.

It was here, without hesitation, that the young man fell to his knees. He knew he had come to the place he had been praying for: the sacred valley. The gods had led him here, and he knew that here he would find the answer to save his people. Though many fruits grew on trees and vines around him, he did not eat, but knelt at the base of the waterfall. With the loud roar of water crashing against the rocks drowning out any other sound, he began to meditate, praying to the gods. He knelt there day and night, never opening his eyes, and on the sixth day his body was so broken from not eating and so paralyzed from sitting in one position that tears flowed from his eyes from the pain. Still he meditated, and on the seventh evening he no longer felt the pain. His body was numb; the pain was overcome.

Still there was no response from the gods, so he continued to meditate day after day. On the evening of the thirteenth day, thoughts that his time was being wasted began disturbing his meditation. There was no response from the gods despite his dedication, despite his prayers. His emotions almost overwhelmed him; the attack on his faith reached its peak. He wanted to cry out and demand an answer. Why had the gods refused to respond to his prayers? He wanted to question their mercy, to lash out against them. But he continued to meditate.

As dawn broke on the fourteenth day, his frustration was totally exhausted, and he no longer had thoughts. He had overcome the attacks on his faith. He meditated still for seven more days. On the morning of the twenty-first day, there appeared before him a sennin, the Shorinjin, the Immortal Man. The Shorinjin had taken pity on the young man who had defeated the desires of his body and his ego. The Shorinjin blessed the young man and granted him the art of Ninjitsu Mastery, the "Magical Art." He directed the young man to return to his people and save them from the warlords. The Shorinjin instructed him to tell no man outside his family of his art, but to pass it directly so that each generation would preserve the mastery. The young man started home. His belly was full though he had not eaten. His body was strong though it had been weakened before. He possessed the wisdom of Ninjitsu Mastery.

As he went home, the young man passed through the forest at the base of the great mountains, and as he walked the goblins and creatures who dwelled there recognized that this mortal had been blessed by a powerful deity. Several of the small, winged goblins swept him up and flew him off to a cave deep in the forest. They presented him to their king, knowing this was no ordinary mortal. These goblins were know as tengu, immortal deities feared by all men for they were supreme in the art of swordsmanship. The young man had heard stories about their special art of swordsmanship, but it had never been seen by any mortal.

He stood before the Tengu King (Dai Tengu) and related the story of the village, the warlords, his journey, and the blessing of the Shorinjin. The king was touched, as the Shorinjin had been, and he granted the art of double- spinning Tengu Swordsmanship (an art that, to this day, is unique to the Saito family) to the mortal and saw that he was safely escorted out of the forest. The young man mystified his fellow villagers and devastated his enemies with the magical arts of Tengu Swordsmanship and Ninjitsu Mastery. He did not speak openly of the arts, secretly passed them down to his sons, and they to their sons, for generations....

This excerpt from the original article should be considered an introductory peek into the secret world of the Saito clan of Fukushima, Japan.