The Story Bag

by Kim So-Un

  And she spilled about half a ladleful of rice out on the hearth. The toad looked up at the girl in gratitude and then gobbled up that rice too, all the while wriggling his puffy throat.

  From that day on the girl and the toad became fast friends. The toad did not go anywhere. He made his home in a corner of the kitchen and would come out at mealtimes to eat his share of rice right out of the girl's hands. This way of life continued day after day, until one whole year had passed. By this time the toad had grown into a huge creature..

  Now, this village had been troubled for a long, long time by a huge snake that lived in a nest on the outskirts of the hamlet. It was a bad snake. It played havoc with the rice paddies and the vegetable fields. It stole cows and horses. It even kidnapped women and children and dragged them away to its nest, where it ate them up at leisure. This had happened not once or twice, but many, many times.

  The villagers knew the hide-out of the snake. Its nest was in a huge cave in a rocky hill just outside the village. Master bowmen and famed marksmen came in turn to the great snake's nest to try and kill the monster, but none succeeded. Year after year the snake continued to harass the villagers. The people lived constantly under the threat of death. They never knew when the snake would come forth from its nest and pounce upon the unsuspecting. They never knew where it would strike next. The villagers lived in constant fear.

  The toad's friend, the kind-hearted girl, soon came to the point where she could not bear to see the sufferings of the village people. Without really knowing when, she found herself thinking: "The villagers must be saved. There must be some way. Isn't there a good scheme?"

  But when bows and arrows and guns had failed to kill the snake, what could one lone and weak girl do? After much pondering, the girl finally decided that she would give up her own life to save the villagers from this curse.

  "That's it!" she thought. "If a large number of people can be saved, it doesn't matter what happens to me. I shall offer myself to be eaten by the great snake, and I shall entreat the snake never again to terrorize our village. Where guns and arrows have failed, my sincere pleas might succeed."

  Her old mother was now dead, and she was all alone in the world except for her friend the toad. So, once she had made her mind up, she put on her little shoes with their turned-up toes and slipped out of the house. Just before leaving she called the toad and, wiping the tears from her eyes, said: "We have lived happily together for a long time, haven't we? But today is our last day. I must say goodbye. There will be no one to give you your rice tomorrow. When you become hungry, you will have to go out and find your own food."

  The toad, of course, had no way of understanding the language of human beings. But the girl spoke to it in simple and gentle words, just as if she were talking to a child. All the while the toad squatted on the hearth gazing steadily up at the girl's face.

  The girl finally wound her way to the snake's nest in the rocky hill outside the village. Forgetting her fear and her sorrow in her desire to save the villagers, she stepped right up to the mouth of the snake's nest. "I have come in place of the villagers to offer you my life," she said. "Please eat me. But, after this, please never again bother the village people."

  Nothing happened, so the girl continued speaking thus for a long time. Soon night drew near, and darkness began to fall over the countryside.

  Finally, when the last light of day faded, the earth began to tremble, and the snake came out of its hole. Its scales were a gleaming green, its red tongue was like a flame. When the girl saw the terrible appearance of the snake, she fainted on the spot and fell to the ground.

  Just then a single streak of white poison flashed toward the snake. It came from the toad which the girl had cared for with such kindness. No one knew when it had come, but there it was, squatting right beside the girl. And though it was small compared to the snake, it was squirting poison with all its might to protect the unconscious girl.

  But the snake was not to be beaten so easily. It began spewing poison right back at the toad. Thus the snake and the toad matched poison against poison, the jets of poison crossing and criss-crossing in the air like two sharp darts. Neither would give in. This continued for one hour, two hours. There was no sound of clashing swords, no shouts of battle. For all that, it was a deadly fight, waged in grim silence.

  Gradually, the snake's poison began to weaken. On the other hand, the toad's poison became stronger and stronger. And yet, the fight still continued.

  Suddenly the snake let out a great gasp and fell down on the rocky hillside. Its great body twitched once, twice, and then it was dead. At the same time the toad, worn out with its struggle, fell dead too. The battle was finally at an end.

  A lone villager chanced by the scene of the fighting the next morning and found the small girl still unconscious. He took her to her home and nursed her back to health. In this way, not only was the girl saved but the whole village as well—thanks to the heroic struggle of a lone toad whom the maiden had befriended. Now that the evil snake was dead, the villagers were able to live in peace and quiet.

  20 The Pheasant's Bell

  DEEP in a lonely forest there once lived a woodcutter. One day the woodcutter was at work felling trees, when he heard the cry of a pheasant and the fluttering of wings nearby. He wondered what was happening and went to see what the commotion was about. Under the shade of a bush he saw a pheasant nest with many eggs inside it. A great snake was poised to strike at a mother pheasant, who was bravely trying to defend her nest. The woodcutter picked up a stick and tried to scare the snake away, crying: "Go away! Go away!" But the snake wouldn't move, so the woodcutter struck it with his stick and killed it.

  Some years after this, the woodcutter one day set out on a distant journey. Twilight found him walking along a lonely mountain path. Soon it became completely dark. He was hungry and tired. Suddenly, far ahead of him in the woods he saw a dim light. He walked toward this light and came to a large and beautiful straw-thatched house. The woodcutter was surprised, for he had never expected to find such a fine house so deep in the forest. He knocked on the door, and a beautiful girl, about nineteen or twenty years of age, came out.

  "I am hungry and tired," the woodcutter told her. "I have walked a long way today and have no place to stay. I wonder if you would put me up for the night?"

  The girl answered in a kind tone: "I am alone in this house, but please do come in."

  She welcomed the woodcutter inside and spread out a grand feast for him. But the woodcutter felt very ill at ease. He could not understand why such a beautiful young girl should be living all alone in the middle of a forest. He couldn't help wondering if he hadn't entered a haunted house.

  But he was so hungry that he ate the fine food put before him and asked no questions. Only when he was quite full did he finally speak.

  "Why should such a young person as you live all alone here in such a large house?" he asked.

  "I am waiting to take my revenge against my enemy," the girl answered.

  "Your enemy?" he asked. "Where would he be?"

  "He is right here," she said. "See, you are my enemy!" Then she opened a great red mourn and laughed loudly.

  The woodcutter was astounded and asked her why he should be her enemy.

  The girl reminded him of the time he had saved the mother pheasant and her nest, and added: "I am the snake you killed that time. I've wailed a long long time to meet up with you. And now I'm going to take your life. Then finally I'll have the revenge I've dreamed of so long."

  When the woodcutter heard this, his heart sank. "I had nothing against you at that time," he said in a quavering voice. "It was simply because I couldn't bear to see helpless beings hurt by someone strong like you were. That's why I saved the pheasant. But I really didn't mean to kill you. Don't say I'm your enemy. Please, please spare my life."

  At first the girl kept laughing at him and would not listen to has pleas. But he kept on pleading, from bended knees, with tears flowing down h
is cheeks.

  "All right then," the girl said, "I'll give you one chance. Deep in the forest and high in the mountains there is a temple ruin. Not a single soul lives there. However, a huge bell hangs in that temple. If, before dawn, you are able to ring that bell without moving from the place where you're sitting now, then I'll spare your life."

  When the woodcutter heard this, he was even more frightened. "How can I ring that bell while I'm still sitting here in this room?" he sighed. "You're unfair. I'm no better off man before. Please don't say such a cruel thing. It's the same as killing me right now. Please let me go home."

  The girl firmly refused: "No! You are the enemy I've waited for so long. Yes, I've waited a long time for this chance to avenge myself. Now mat I have you in my hands, why should I let you go? If you can't ring the bell, resign yourself to death. I shall eat you up."

  The woodcutter gave up all hope. He realized that he was as good as dead.

  Suddenly, the quiet night air vibrated with the sound of a distant bell. "Bong!" the bell rang. Yes, it was the bell in the crumbling old mountain temple!

  When the girl heard the bell, she turned white and gnashed her teeth. "It's no use," she said. "You must be guarded by the gods."

  No sooner had she said this than she disappeared from sight. The fine house in which the woodcutter was sitting also disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  The woodcutter, whose life had been so miraculously saved, could hardly wait for daylight to break. With the first sign of dawn he set off toward the mountains in search of the ruined temple, filled with gnawing curiosity.

  Sure enough, as he had been told, there he found a temple in which hung a great bell. But there was not a single soul in sight. The woodcutter looked at the bell in wonder. On it he noticed a stain of blood. He looked down to the floor. There, with head shattered and wings broken, lay the bloodstained body of a pheasant.

  21 The Green Leaf

  DAY in, day out, the rain poured down in sheets. The small river flowing by the village rose higher and higher. One day the dikes broke. The muddy river water surged through the gap, sweeping everything in its path—houses, people, cows, and horses. Everywhere was death and devastation.

  Just then there appeared in the raging waters an old man, rowing a small boat. He was a gentle and kind man. He could not bear to remain in safety while listening to the cries of people stranded on tree-tops and on roof-tops. He rowed his small boat here and there, helping as many people as he could to places of safety.

  Just as he was about to leave he saw a small child struggling in the water. He pulled the child into his boat. He next saw a deer swimming by. The deer too he saved. A little while later a snake came swimming by. The old man looked carefully and saw mat it had hurt itself. It couldn't swim very well. A snake is not a very pleasant thing, but the old man felt sorry for it. He reached into the swirling waters and pulled the snake into the boat.

  When he reached high ground, the old man let the snake and the deer go free. But the child had nowhere to go. He had lost his home, his parents, and his brothers and sisters. He was now an orphan. The old man felt pity for the poor little boy. He seemed such a clever fellow, with fine features. Since the old man was childless, he decided to adopt the boy as his own. "You will become my boy from this day," the old man said, and from then on he cared for him as if he were his own child.

  One day much later the old man was puttering about the house. Suddenly the same deer that he had saved during the flood came to the house. The deer came right up to the old man inside the house, nudged him with its nose as though glad to see him, and made happy sounds in its throat. Then the deer took hold of the old man's sleeve in its mouth and started pulling. The deer kept pulling at the old man as though wanting him to follow it.

  "You want me to go outside with you, do you?" the old man said. "Yes, that must be it."

  So the old man went outside with the deer. The deer kept going on ahead, and the old man followed. The deer went on and on, toward the mountains. Up and up they climbed. The old man didn't know where they were going. Neither could he imagine what the deer wanted.

  Just as they crossed a mountain divide, the deer stopped short and waited for the old man to catch up. There in the mountain was a cave. The deer led the old man to the mouth of the cave and then went in ahead. The old man followed. And in the middle of the cave he found a large box filled to overflowing with gold and silver, shining with such dazzling brightness as to blind the eyes. The old man took this treasure home.

  Thanks to the deer, the old man was now very wealthy. He bought a large mansion and many fields and paddies. He came to live a life of plenty. And his adopted son quickly learned to live an easygoing life. He learned to be selfish and extravagant.

  He spent money like water, he made friends with good-for-nothing youths, and he frittered his days away in idleness.

  The old man began to worry over the future of his son. He tried to advise the youngster, but his words fell on deaf cars. Eventually the young man came to talk back to his foster father. He went from bad to worse and, in time, even started spreading a base lie about his father.

  "That old man didn't get his money from the deer. That's a black lie. He stole all of it during the flood from people who were washed away." This was the lie the youngster spread all over the village.

  When this lie came to the ears of the overlord, the old man was hauled off to the overlord's castle for questioning.

  "That's simply not true," the old man insisted. "The deer really did lead me to the money in a cave."

  But no mater how earnestly and how often the old man repeated this to the castle officials, they still doubted him.

  "Even your adopted son, whom you brought up yourself for so many years, says you stole your wealth," they said. "Isn't that sufficient proof of your crime?" And they threw him into the castle dungeon.

  There was nothing the old man could do about it. He spent long hours and days in the dungeon, crying and waiting for the day he would be brought out to hear his sentence.

  But one day while the old man sat despondently in the dungeon, something came moving across the floor. It was the snake the old man had saved during the flood. The snake slithered across the cell to where the old man was sitting and suddenly bit him sharply on the shin. Then it quickly slipped out again.

  The old man was greatly grieved. "How unfortunate I am! No matter how lowly a creature may be, to think that it would do such a terrible thing after I went to the trouble of saving its life! I should never have shown pity for that snake." First it was his adopted son and now it was the snake. The old man had saved both from the raging waters, and they had turned against him in ingratitude. The thought filled the old man's breast with such anguish that he felt his heart would burst. He pressed the snake bite with his hands and let the tears stream unashamedly down his cheeks.

  Suddenly the snake once again came into his cell. This time it was carrying something in its mouth. It was a green leaf. The snake applied the green leaf to the spot where it had bitten the old man and men quickly disappeared again.

  Then a strange thing happened. No sooner had the green leaf been placed on the wound than the pain disappeared, and the swelling also went down almost immediately.

  "What was the snake trying to do?" pondered the old man. "First it comes and bites me and then it brings a green leaf that heals me. Why?"

  But before he could think further, there was a great commotion outside his cell. "It's terrible, terrible!" the jailers were shouting. "What shall we do? The Lord's consort has just been bitten by a snake. There's no time to call a doctor."

  The old man suddenly realized the meaning of the snake's behavior. He shouted: "Let me cure her! I have a wonderful medicine for snake bites!"

  The jailers looked doubtfully at the old man. But it was no time to stop and argue. They let the old man out of his cell and rushed him off to where the overlord's wife lay moaning and suffering in pain. All the old man did was to press
the green leaf lightly against the snake bite, and the great lady was completely healed.

  The overlord was very pleased and had the old man brought before him. "Old man, where did you get that wonderful medicine?" the lord asked.

  The old man then told the overlord all that had befallen him from the time he saved his adopted son, the deer, and the snake in the great flood, until the time the snake appeared in his cell.

  "Even such a lowly creature as the snake knows enough to repay a debt of gratitude. But what a hateful man it is who would betray the foster father who saved his life!" the lord said in great anger. Then the lord ordered his men to bring the boy to the castle and to throw him into the dungeon.

  The kind and gentle old man was praised highly and heaped with many, many gifts. But, as a last request, he asked that his ungrateful son be released from prison. The overlord was deeply impressed by the compassion of the old man and immediately granted his request. Then the old man and his son made their way home together.

  The youth had learned his lesson well. Not only once, but twice, had his life been saved by his foster father. From then on, he became a changed person and grew into an upright and righteous man. He took good care of his father, and they were able to live a long and happy life together.

  22 The Grateful Tiger

  ONCE upon a time a huge tiger lay groaning and moaning by the roadside. A young student happened to pass by and see the suffering animal. He drew near, half in fear, and asked: "What is the matter, tiger? Have you hurt yourself?"

  The tiger, tears filling his eyes, opened its mouth as if to show the student that there was something wrong inside.