�
Oraculous Tales
presents
Sword of the
Ramurai
Written by Becky Ances
Illustrated by Ryan Wilson
1
Meet The GangMoo‑CowThe 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.
RamsesThe 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.
Keby An intelligent and easygoing young gardener
and plant expert whose parents own an organic farm next door to Moo‑Cow’s pasture.
KiweenieA 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 OracleHe’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.
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
Table of Contents
Meet The Gang
Published by Moo‑Cow Fan Club LLC. Moo‑Cow Fan Club, PO Box 165, Peterborough, NH 03458
www.moocowfanclub.comFirst published in 2008
Text and illustrations © 2008 Becky Ances & Ryan WilsonAll 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
Oraculous Tales
Sword of the Ramurai
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.
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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
Tsuka Ito (Cord Wrap) Kashira (Pommel)
Tsuka (Handle)
Tsuba (Hand Guard)
Habaki(Blade Collar)
Shinogi(Blade Ridge)
Ha (Edge)
Kissaki(Point)
Mune (Back)
Boshi(Curved Edge)
Hamon (Edge Pattern)
Sageo(Hanging Cord)
Saya (Scabbard)
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.
�
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
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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.”
�
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
Chapter 2
The Bell and Buddha
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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
��
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
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.
You Can Meditate!
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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
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.
�6
“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.
��
“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
Chapter 3
Behind the Paper Walls
��
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.”
Muromachi ClothesThe 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.
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“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.
��
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.
��
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.
Chapter 4
Ram on the Rocks
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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.
Design a Zen Garden
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.
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.
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“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
�6
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.
��
“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.
��
“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
��
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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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.
Chapter 5
The Ronin Recruit
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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.
Samurai ArmorSamurai 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!
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
#__Kabuto
#__Shikoro
#___Haramaki
#__Sode
#__Sode
#__Nodowa
#__Suneate
#__Kote
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“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.
��
“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.”
��
“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.
�6
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
��
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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