The Woodman and the Mountain Fairies

In this episode, we journey with Kilwee, a humble woodcutter, who finds himself entranced by a mystical game of goban played by mountain fairies in a tale that spans centuries. So snuggle up in your blankets and have sweet dreams. 

The music in this episode is Morning Light Serenade by Martin Landh. 

Chapters

• 0:21 Woodman Encounters Mountain Fairies and Modernity
• 18:34 Encounter With Timeless Mountain Spirits
• 36:33 Encounter With Time-Traveling Mountain Spirit

Transcript

Speaker 1: 0:21

Welcome to Dreamful Podcast bedtime stories for slumber. I have just gotten back from a podcast conference where I talked to hundreds and hundreds of people and I got sick, so I cannot record a full episode this week, so instead I am going to be sharing with you a subscriber-only episode that I really enjoyed from about a year ago. I hope you love the Woodmen and the Mountain Fairies just as much as I do. So snuggle up in your blankets and have sweet dreams. ¶¶.

Speaker 1: 1:44

Over half thousand years ago there lived in a northern village a woodcutter named Kilwee. He owned a sturdy bull that carried on its back the fuel which he daily cut on the mountains and sold on the main street of his village. At the fair which was held every fifth day, the docile brute could carry a load of sticks and brushwood, piled many feet high over his head and tied down with ropes so that at a distance nothing but his legs were visible. This beast, also huge, was the gentlest creature imaginable. The children were all very fond of the big fellow and were accustomed to play with him as if he were one of them, or at least like a pet dog. The reason of this was that when but a week old, the bull calf had been taken from his cow mother and brought up in the family with the girls and boys. Only the puppy dog that also occupied the house with the young folks was a great favorite. On a fine summer morning, kielwee, leaving his beast behind, went up on the mountain and cut enough wood to load up and bring down on another day, told him to be sure and be home in time for supper, for their eldest son had gone a-fishing and a good string of perch was expected. Shouldering his axe, he started up the mountain path. He had to go pretty far for near towns or cities, although timber had long since been cut away. Every year the woodmen have to search farther afield to find fuel.

Speaker 1: 3:58

Arriving in the woods where there was a clearing, kiel Wee prepared to wield his trusty axe. He was about to take off his big hat and outer coat and lay about him when he spied at some distance off two fairy-like beings. They had long hair, looked very wise and were dressed in costume of the Chao dynasty of 2,000 years ago. They sat on stones and played the game of goban. Coming near, the woodmen, took a respectful attitude and, looking on, soon became interested in the moves of the players. So, far from being at all disconcerted at the presence of a stranger, the two fairies seemed by eye-winks to invite him to look on. Feeling quite proud to be thus honored, kiu-wi, leaning his chin upon the handle of his axe, became absorbed in the game and, by and by, grew quite excited. Forgetting himself and his manners, he stretched forth his right hand to move one of the pieces. His right hand to move one of the pieces At once, the fairy nearest to him gave him a crack on the fingers for his impudence and jerked Kiwi's arm away. Then, without saying a word, he took out from his wallet something that looked like a persimmon seed and put it in the woodman's mouth. After this, all three were perfectly quiet.

Speaker 1: 5:58

Hour after hour, the game proceeded and the players grew more intensely interested. As for QI, his eyes never winked. So hard did he look at the yellow board covered with the black and white pieces Several times when he thought he saw how the fairy on his right could beat in the game or the one on his left make a better move. He felt like telling one of the other. So when, however, he tried to move his tongue, he found he could not speak or utter a cry. Somehow he felt as if he were in a dream. Yet all the time he became more and more wrapped up in the game, so that he determined to see the end of it and know which player had beaten. He forgot that with mountain spirits there is no night or morning or passing of the hours, nor do they care anything about clocks or bells, because in Fairyland there is no time.

Speaker 1: 7:21

All the while, kielwee was leaning with his chin on the stout axe handle, holding it with both hands under his neck. He took no note of the sun or stars, daylight or darkness, and he felt no hunger. Suddenly, the timber of his axe seemed to turn to dust and his chin fell. The next thing he knew he had lost his support. Down went his head and forward fell his body as he tumbled over, upsetting the checkerboard, breaking up the game and scattering the round pieces hither and yon over the ground.

Speaker 1: 8:12

Awaking as out of a sleep and thoroughly ashamed of himself for his impoliteness, he tried to pick himself up and humbly apologized for the accident which he had caused by his own rudeness. He expected and was ready for a good scolding, but when he looked up, the fairies were gone. Nothing whatever was seen of them, or of the playboard and checkers, nor any signs of them having been there, except that when he put his hand on the flat stones which they had used as seats, he found them warm to his touch. But where was his axe handle? And what had happened when he had left home? He had come straight from the barber shop with his face, smooth and clean-shaven. Now he put his hand to his breast and found that he had grown a long white beard. As for the iron axe head, it was there, but rusty and half buried in the ground. He had worn one of the big farmer's hats which, when turned upside down, might hold a bushel or two of turnips and, when fastened to his head, spread over his shoulders like a roof. Where could it be? He looked about him to find it, but saw only the bits of the slats inside the frame and a few scraps of what remained, for the rest had long ago rotted away. Meanwhile he had discovered that his joints were stiff and he felt like an old man. His clothes were a mass of rags, his hemp sandals were no more, and on both fingers and toes had grown long nails like burr's claws. His hair had burst its topknot string and hung down his back like a woman's. Only it was grayish-white.

Speaker 1: 10:36

Wondering what it all meant, kielwee hobbled down the mountain and found the road that ran into the main street of his village. Rocks and hills, rivers and rills were there. But what a change. Instead of the two grinning idle posts of male and female faces carved out of trunks and trees with sawed-out teeth painted white and artificial ear flaps of wood nailed on, there was a line of high thick poles with iron wires stretching from one to the other and for miles in the distance. These, he found out afterwards, were called telegraph poles. In place of the rambling and sprawling three-sided thatched houses and yards divided off with mats hung from sticks, there was a well-built but odd-looking office of painted wood with openings through which he saw young men sitting. They were dressed in strange clothes and were fingering outlandish-looking clicking instruments.

Speaker 1: 11:58

His curiosity prompted him to go up and look more closely when something bumped against his nose and nearly knocked him over. When he tried again to get closer, his face was flattened, his nose nearly broken and his lips knocked against his teeth so that they swelled. Feeling with his hands to solve the mystery, he touched something hard which he could yet see through. Just then he heard a young man inside shout to him here you, mountain daddy, leave that glass alone. Glass, glass, glass. Thought to kill. We leave that glass alone, glass glass, thought Kilwi. What is that? Yet he could not speak.

Speaker 1: 12:57

He had hardly drawn a long breath when, looking down along two lines of shining iron in the street, he saw a house on wheels coming right at him. There was no horse, no donkey, no bull, no man pulling or pushing it, but overhead was a long pole at the end of which were a touch of string, as he thought, but it was an iron wire, was something that looked like a squirrel. It was going round and round as if turning somersaults, and seemed to be pushing the moving house along. Inside, near the same stuff which he had already heard was glass, sat a dozen or so people, the whole thing wheels and all nearly ran him over as it thundered by and his mouth opened in wonder, while a man on the end shouted rudely Hello old goblin, where did you get your pumpkin mouth? Look out on your small the moon, get out of the way of the trolley.

Speaker 1: 14:14

Thus did the man they called conductor or guard make fun of the poor old fellow, for indeed, he did look like one of the mummers who, on New Year's Eve, amuse or scare the children by putting on their shoulders the huge round devil heads and false faces, masks shaped like a melon with cut out eyes, nose and mouth, like those which American boys have fun with on All Hallows' Eve. This was just the trouble the woodman in tatters with no topknot, long hair down his back and a white beard floating over his breast, leaning on a long white stick as he hobbled down the street. It looked just like one of them. When one of these mountain men odd creatures that were half-savage in dress and ways came into town, all the children laughed and the big dogs barked while the little ones ran away, for the sight was so unusual. Even the bulls bellowed, the donkeys balked and the pigs squeaked. As Kilwee came near, no wonder he was taken for a mountain grad daddy or a bumpkin dressed like one, for few of the city or village folks had really ever seen one of the mountain men, any more than they had seen tigers that are plentiful farther away but which only the hunters ever caught sight of.

Speaker 1: 16:05

More and more bewildered, kielwee wended his way further into the town. He saw that the men no longer wore top knots, nor did the lads have a long braid down their back which showed that they were youths but not married. Yet. Just then, some rough boys, supposing that maybe some rustic gawk had mistaken the time of year, jeered at him and cried Hello hermit, do you think it's New Year's Eve? Kilwee thought he had better ask some questions. So, catching sight of a dignified-looking gentleman in black, broad-brimmed hat and flowing white clothes, who was coming down the street and toward him, kilwi bowed his head low, almost to the ground. As he did so, the stone put in his mouth by the fairies dropped out and his tongue was loosened. He inquired, exalted Sir, can you tell me where may be the wretched hut of my miserable wife and children? She was the daughter of Ji Kim, and your contemptible slave is Kiel Wee.

Speaker 1: 17:30

The gentleman whose dress showed that he was a scholar and a person of rank, looked long and hard at the questioner to satisfy himself that he was not being mocked or imposed upon by a jester, and then cried Heavens man, are you a beggar spirit of the mountains? Your speech sounds like the dialect spoken in these parts five hundred years ago. In that time such a family lived here, but the head of it, a woodcutter, is reported to have gone up into the mountains and was eaten up by a tiger Yonder. In the graveyard are buried ten or more generations of his descendants. Tell me, kind, sir, what has happened here since King Wang died? It was under his reign that I was born and lived in this village.

Speaker 1: 18:34

Still eyeing the questioner as if expecting to see him jump out of his rags and declare himself a mummer and the whole affair a joke, the kindly gentleman proceeded to give an outline the history. During the previous 500 years there have been many kings and great wars. The most recent was just over and now people rode in cars, talked hundreds of miles over wires and traveled over iron rails as fast as a dragon could fly, drawn by a steel horse that drank water and fed on wood and black stones that burned. In a word, it was the era of civilization. This was too much for Kilwi. He now realized that he had lived ten times longer than the average man, so, hobbling over to the graveyard, he stumbled among the mounds until he found that one of his clan, where the bones of his wife and children, lay. The next morning, all that was seen of Kilwi was a mass of dust, rags, some bones and much long white hair. Yet when they buried him, there sprang up around and on his grave strange flowers that no one had ever seen in city or village but which bloomed only on the high mountains.

Speaker 1: 20:39

Over half thousand years ago there lived in a northern village a woodcutter named Kilwee. He owned a sturdy bull that carried on its back the fuel which he daily cut on the mountains and sold on the main street of his village at the fair which was held every fifth day. The docile brute could carry a load of sticks and brushwood, piled many feet high over his head and tied down with ropes so that at a distance nothing but his legs were visible. This beast, also huge, was the gentlest creature imaginable. The children were all very fond of the big fellow and were accustomed to play with him as if he were one of them, or at least like a pet dog. The reason of this was that when but a week old, the bull calf had been taken from his cow mother and brought up in the family with the girls and boys, only the puppy dog that also occupied the house with the young folks was a great favorite.

Speaker 1: 22:04

On a fine summer morning, kielwee, leaving his beast behind, went up on the mountain and cut enough wood to load up and bring down on another day. His wife, as she shouted goodbye, told him to be sure and be home in time for supper, for their eldest son had gone a-fishing and a good string of perch was expected. Shouldering his axe, he started up the mountain path. He had to go pretty far for near towns or cities, although timber had long since been cut away. Every year the woodmen have to search farther afield to find fuel.

Speaker 1: 23:01

Arriving in the woods where there was a clearing keel, we prepared to wield his trusty axe. He was about to take off his big hat and outer coat and lay about him when he spied, some distance off, two fairy-like beings. They had long hair, looked very wise and were dressed in costume of the Chao dynasty of two thousand years ago. They sat on stones and played the game of goban. Coming near, the woodman took a respectful attitude and, looking on, soon became interested in the moves of the players. So, far from being at all disconcerted at the presence of a stranger, the two fairies seemed, by eye-winks, to invite him to look on. Feeling quite proud to be thus honored, kiyo-wi leaning his chin upon the handle of his axe, became absorbed in the game and by and by grew quite excited. Forgetting himself and his manners, he stretched forth his right hand to move one of the pieces. At once, the fairy nearest to him gave him a crack on the fingers for his impudence and jerked Kiyoi's arm away. Then, without saying a word, he took out from his wallet something that looked like a persimmon seed and put it in the woodman's mouth. After this, all three were perfectly quiet.

Speaker 1: 25:01

Hour after hour, the game proceeded and the players grew more intensely interested. As for QIU, his eyes never winked so hard did he look at the yellow board covered with the black and white pieces, covered with the black and white pieces. Several times when he thought he saw how the fairy on his right could beat in the game or the one on his left make a better move. He felt like telling one or the other. So when, however, he tried to move his tongue, he found he could not speak or utter a cry. Somehow he felt as if he were in a dream. Yet all the time he became more and more wrapped up in the game, so that he determined to see the end of it and know which player had beaten. He forgot that with mountain spirits there is no night or morning or passing of the hours, nor do they care anything about clocks or bells, because in Fairyland there is no time. Because in fairyland there is no time.

Speaker 1: 26:26

All the while Kielwee was leaning with his chin on the stout axe handle, holding it with both hands under his neck, he took no note of the sun or stars, daylight or darkness, and he felt no hunger. Suddenly, the timber of his axe seemed to turn to dust and his chin fell. The next thing he knew he had lost his support. Down went his head and forward fell his body as he tumbled over, upsetting the checkerboard, breaking up the game and scattering the round pieces hither and yon over the ground. Awaking as out of a sleep and thoroughly ashamed of himself for his simple lightness, he tried to pick himself up and humbly apologized for the accident which he had caused by his own rudeness. He expected and was ready for a good scolding, but when he looked up, the fairies were gone. Nothing whatever was seen of them or of the playboard and checkers, nor any signs of them having been there, except that when he put his hand on the flat stones which they had used as seats. He found them warm to his touch, but where was his axe handle? And what had happened when he had left home?

Speaker 1: 28:13

He had come straight from the barber shop with his face, smooth and clean-shaven. Now he put his hand to his breast and found that he had grown a long white beard. As for the iron axe head, it was there, but rusty and half buried in the ground. He had worn one of the big farmer's hats which, when turned upside down, might hold a bushel or two of turnips and, when fastened to his head, spread over his shoulders like a roof. Where could it be? He looked about him to find it, but saw only the bits of the slats inside the frame and a few scraps of what remained, for the rest had long ago rotted away. Meanwhile he had discovered that his joints were stiff and he felt like an old man. His clothes were a mass of rags, his hemp sandals were no more, and on both fingers and toes had grown long nails like burrs claws. His hair had burst its topknot string and hung down his back like a woman's. Only it was grayish white.

Speaker 1: 29:39

Wondering what it all meant, kielwee hobbled down the mountain and found the road that ran into the main street of his village. Rocks and hills, rivers and rills were there. But what a change. Instead of the two grinning idle posts of male and female faces carved out of trunks and trees with sawed out teeth painted white, and artificial ear flaps of wood nailed on, there was a line of high thick poles with iron wires stretching from one to the other and for miles in the distance. These, he found out afterwards, were called telegraph poles. In place of the rambling and sprawling three-sided thatched houses and yards divided off with mats hung from sticks, there was a well-built but odd-looking office of painted wood with openings through which he saw young men sitting. They were dressed in strange clothes and were fingering outlandish-looking, clicking instruments clicking instruments.

Speaker 1: 31:03

His curiosity prompted him to go up and look more closely when something bumped against his nose and nearly knocked him over. When he tried again to get closer, his face was flattened, his nose nearly broken and his lips knocked against his teeth so that they swelled. Feeling with his hands to solve the mystery, he touched something hard which he could yet see through. Just then he heard a young man inside shout to him here you, mountain daddy, leave that glass alone. Glass Glass, thought, kill we. What is that? Yet he could not speak.

Speaker 1: 32:00

He had hardly drawn a long breath when, looking down along two lines of shining iron in the street, he saw a house on wheels coming right at him. There was no horse, no donkey, no bull, no man pulling or pushing it, but overhead was a long pole, at the end of which were a touch of string, as he thought, though it was, an iron wire, was something that looked like a squirrel. It was going round and round as if turning somersaults, and seemed to be pushing the moving house along. Inside, near the same stuff which he had already heard was glass, sat a dozen or so people, the whole thing wheels and all nearly ran him over as it thundered by and his mouth opened in wonder, while a man on the end shouted rudely Hello old goblin, where did you get your pumpkin mouth? Look out or you'll swallow the moon. Get out of the way of the trolley.

Speaker 1: 33:17

Thus did the man they called conductor or guard make fun of the poor old fellow, for indeed he did look like one of the mummers who, on New Year's Eve, amused or scared the children by putting on their shoulders the huge round devil heads and false faces, masks shaped like a melon with cut out eyes, nose and mouth, like those which American boys have fun with on All Hallows Eve. This was just the trouble. The woodman in tatters with no top knot, long hair down his back and a white beard floating over his breast, leaning on a long white stick as he hobbled down the street, looked just like one of them. When one of these mountain men, odd creatures that were half savage in dress and ways, came into town, all the children laughed and the big dogs barked while the little ones ran away, for the sight was so unusual. Even the bulls bellowed, the donkeys balked and the pigs squeaked. As Kilwee came near, no wonder he was taken for a mountain granddaddy or a bumpkin dressed like one, for few of the city or village folks had really ever seen one of the mountain men, any more than they had seen tigers that are plentiful farther away but which only the hunters ever caught sight of, but which only the hunter has ever caught sight of.

Speaker 1: 35:08

More and more bewildered, kielwee wended his way further into the town. He saw that the men no longer wore top knots, nor did the lads have a long braid down their back which showed that they were youths and not married yet. Just then, some rough boys, supposing that maybe some rustic gawk had mistaken the time of year, jeered at him and cried Hello hermit, do you think it's New Year's Eve? Kill Wee thought he had better ask some questions. So, catching sight of a dignified-looking gentleman in black, broad-brimmed hat and flowing white clothes, who was coming down the street and toward him, Kill Wee bowed his head low, almost to the ground. As he did so, the stone put in his mouth by the fairies dropped out and his tongue was loosened. He inquired, exalted Sir, can you tell me where may be the wretched hut of my miserable wife and children? She was the daughter of Ji Kim, and your contemptible slave is Kiel Wee.

Speaker 1: 36:33

The gentleman whose dress showed that he was a scholar and a person of rank looked long and hard at the questioner to satisfy himself that he was not being mocked or imposed upon by a jester and then cried Heavens man, are you a beggar spirit of the mountains? Your speech sounds like the dialect spoken in these parts 500 years ago. In that time such a family lived here, but the head of it, a woodcutter, is reported to have gone up into the mountains and was eaten up by a tiger. Yonder in the graveyard are buried ten or more generations of his descendants. Down during the graveyard are buried ten or more generations of his descendants. Tell me kind, sir, what has happened here since King Wang died? It was under his reign that I was born and lived in this village.

Speaker 1: 37:47

Still eyeing the questioner as if expecting to see him jump out of his rags and declare himself a mummer and the whole affair a joke, the kindly gentleman proceeded to give an outline the history. During the previous five hundred years there had been many kings and great wars. The most recent was just over and now. People rode in cars, talked hundreds of miles over wires and traveled over iron rails as fast as a dragon could fly, drawn by a steel horse that drank water and fed on wood and black stones that burned. In a word, it was the era of civilization.

Speaker 1: 38:34

This was too much for Kilwi. He now realized that he had lived ten times longer than the average man. So, hobbling over to the graveyard, he stumbled among the mounds until he found that one of his clan where the bones of his wife and children lay. The next morning, all that was seen of Kilwi was a mass of dust, rags, some bones and much long white hair, and much long white hair. Yet when they buried him there sprang up around and on his grave strange flowers that no one had ever seen in city or village, but which bloomed only on the high mountains ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶.

Speaker 2: 43:26

© BF-WATCH TV 2021. ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶. © transcript Emily Beynon. ¶¶, ¶¶, © transcript Emily Beynon.