�

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.

�

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

�

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

�0

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!

��

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.

�0

“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.

��

“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.

�0

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

��

“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?”