These are robbers, who finally pounce upon White Aster and drag her into their rocky den, little heeding her tears or prayers; and, although the maiden cries for help, echo alone reiterates her desperate calls.
The brigands' lair is beneath an overhanging cliff, where they have erected a miserable booth, whose broken thatch has to be supplemented by the dense foliage of the ginkgo tree overshadowing it.

In front of this hut runs a brawling stream, while the rocks all around are hung with heavy curtains of ivy, which add to the gloom and dampness of the place.
Here the sun Ne'er visits with his parting rays at eve, But all is gloom and silence save the cry Of some belated bird that wakes the night.
Having brought their prisoner safely into this den, the robbers proceed to eat and drink, dispensing with chopsticks, so wolfish is their hunger.

Meantime they roughly jeer at their captive, who sits helpless before them, tears streaming down her pale cheeks.

Having satisfied their first imperious craving for food and drink, the brigands proceed to taunt their prisoner, until the captain, producing a koto or harp, bids her with savage threats make music, as they like to be merry.
"Sit you down, And let us hear your skill; for I do swear That, if you hesitate, then with this sword I'll cut you into bits and give your flesh To yonder noisy crows.

Mark well my words." So proficient is our little maiden on this instrument, that her slender fingers draw from the cords such wonderful sounds that all living creatures are spellbound.