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Authors: Mark James Russell

Young-hee and the Pullocho (20 page)

BOOK: Young-hee and the Pullocho
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Shooting pains of annoyance jabbed just behind Young-hee's eyes. “Fine, let's get going.”

Without the path, the cave was much tougher to navigate. The floor was rockier and more uneven. When a chamber opened wide, it was tough to find where the main route continued. And sometimes there were several options. In the lamplight, Young-hee examined her strange companion, trying to get a sense of him. He wore a casual, not-terribly-clean hanbok, with a gray
jeogori
jacket, yellow vest, and white-ish leggings. His clothing revealed the odd tension of someone who cares deeply about his appearance, but completely lacks the ability to keep tidy. After so long underground, he could see fairly well in dim light, and scouted the way while keeping up a cheery flow of banter. It was annoying—and probably not a good way to hide their presence from any unfriendly creatures—but after her long solitude, Young-hee appreciated the company and resolved to be positive. At least until they got out.

Young-hee tried to keep quiet about who she was and why she was making this long journey, but in the course of polite conversation she let out more than she intended—including that a problem with a dokkaebi had sparked her quest. “A dokkaebi?” he exclaimed, eagerly. “Silly creatures. Easy to outwit. One time, after a long day's hike in the hills, night fell as black as any night ever, as dark as this cave. Unable to go on, I rested on a grassy gravesite, and as, I snacked on half a melon, a dokkaebi came by. ‘Is that you, skeleton?' he asked. It was too dark for him to see me, but I could tell he was a dokkaebi from his ashen smell, like an old fireplace.

“So I told him, ‘Yes, it's me,' but I must have sounded different, because he angrily demanded who I was. I dropped my voice, trying to sound all dead and scary. ‘No, my friend, it's really me. Here, touch my head,' I said, holding out the melon skin. ‘Yes,' he said, ‘it seems like your hairless head.' He still didn't sound convinced, so I held out my walking stick. ‘And here, touch my arm.'

“‘Ah, you have a skinny, bony arm, like you starved to death. You must be my friend skeleton.'

“‘What brings you out tonight?' I asked, and he told me his plan to steal the soul of the daughter of a rich landlord. I went along and watched him steal her soul, and put it in a little canvas bag. I told him I would keep it safe until the next night. He gave it to me and vanished. A few hours later, I went to the landlord's home, where everyone was mourning the daughter, who had died mysteriously in the night. I asked to see her privately, and once the door closed, opened the bag and returned her soul. She woke as if nothing had ever been wrong.”

“That was really nice of you,” said Young-hee, wondering what it would take to stop him from talking. She looked about as they walked into another large cavern. “What did the landlord do?”

“Oh, he was overjoyed, of course. He offered me the girl's hand in marriage and half his fortune. But the Samjogo is not tied down so easily. I took a modest reward and went on my way. It's a vast world, with much so see.”

Young-hee tried gauging the vast emptiness of this latest cavern. Black was black, pretty much impossible to estimate, but Young-hee noticed the echo of Samjogo's voice getting deeper and delaying more, until the echo, too, was swallowed by darkness. This was the largest cave chamber yet, she thought.
What was this place?
“Didn't the dokkaebi come back to get you? I bet he was mad.”

“I bet he was angry too. But the Samjogo has more tricks up his sleeve. One time, when walking through the mountains with nothing but a drum, I …” At long last, he went quiet, but the way he just stopped mid-sentence didn't fill Young-hee with confidence. Then she caught up and saw what silenced him.

Ahead, in the inky-gray distance of her lamp's light, was a tree. Huge and full of leaves, despite growing in the black of the cave. As they approached, more shapes emerged—something like a barn, a stone house, unkempt hedges, and perhaps a well. A big stone wall surrounded the property, crumbling in places, including where the path cut through.

“What is this?” Young-hee asked.

“This is the home of probably the worst ogre in a hundred realms, Agwi Kwisin, the nine-headed ogre. His is a very exciting story, with a noble warrior and a princess, betrayals, a magical life-giving pullocho, and Agwi the ogre.”

“A pullocho?!” exclaimed Young-hee. “There was one here? In this cave?”

“Well, it's a famous part of the ogre's story, that much is for certain. If I recall the tale correctly, it was…” But before Samjogo could finish, a loud, sulfurous
blam
exploded a few feet from them. Standing in the center of the stinky cloud, was a hideous creature, seven feet tall, completely misshapen from head to toe, wearing dark armor, holding a jagged spear, and covered in a glow of blue flames.

“What is
that?
” cried Young-hee, shielding her eyes from the flames.

“Oh, him,” deadpanned the Samjogo. “That would be Yeonggam, the demon of this cave. I would imagine he's pretty upset that I've been freed. And even more angry at the one who freed me.”

Agwi Kwisin the Nine-Headed Ogre and the Warrior

Long ago, when the Tiger used to smoke, there lived a terrible ogre named Agwi Kwisin in the mountains of a beautiful kingdom. The huge, nine-headed rock monster would descend from his secret mountain cave and, armed with a great sword, ravage the land, stealing food, destroying villages, and sometimes taking young women.

One day, he stole the king's three beautiful daughters. The distraught king promised a great reward and the youngest daughter's hand in marriage for the return his daughters. But none would risk facing the monster, even for the reward.

Then a mysterious warrior came to the palace and said he would return the daughters. The courtiers laughed, finding the young warrior neither frightening nor famous. But the king, happy to have someone willing to try, offered three servants to help on the quest.

The warrior searched the kingdom's mountains and forests for weeks and months, but found no ogre. The three servants complained endlessly, and begged for permission to abandon the fruitless quest and return to the nice palace. But the warrior refused and persisted.

One day, they came across an old man sitting calmly under a tree, cooking soup on a fire. The servants ordered the man to give them the fire and food—because they were with the king. But the warrior told them to treat their elders with respect and apologized to the old man. Thanking the warrior for his kindness, the man revealed that he was in fact the great Mountain Spirit, Sanshin. He offered to share his soup and, as they ate, the warrior explained his quest. Taking pity, San-shin advised, “Go past this mountain, then the next, and finally on the third, halfway up, you will find a big cave. Deep down in the cave you will find the ogre.”

Then Sanshin thrust a bag into the coals, and it came out full of ashes. He held them out, saying the warrior might find them useful, especially if outnumbered.

The warrior thanked Sanshin and started walking with renewed purpose. And as promised, halfway up the third mountain was the cave and, far back within it, a great hole so dark and deep he couldn't see the bottom.

So the warrior tied all their ropes together, and anchored it to a big rock. “Servant, I will tie you to this rope, lower you into the cave. Tell us what you find.” But the servant was too scared. “Just yank on the rope twice if you are in any danger,' the warrior reassured, “and we will pull you right up.”

The servant agreed, but he was not down long when the warrior, felt a tug, and pulled up the servant. The warrior turned to the second servant, but he was even more scared and yanked the rope after only a short way. The third servant did not make it much farther. “Okay,” said the warrior, “I shall go myself. Stay here until I return.”

The servants lowered the warrior deeper and deeper into the cave. It was vast and very dark, but gradually his eyes adjusted, and he saw a whole farm in the hole, with trees, giant buildings and more.

The warrior untied himself and went carefully forward. By one tree, not far from the huge, stone farmhouse, he found a well. Hearing someone approach, hid behind some bushes and spied one of the king's daughters, drawing water. Seeing her alone, the warrior emerged and introduced himself, saying the king had sent him to free his daughters.

She thanked him, looking him over, decided there was no way the warrior could beat the ogre. “Do you see that large rock near where you hid? Can you lift it?” The warrior tried and tried, but barely moved it. “If you cannot lift that rock, you can't defeat the ogre. His skin is like stone, and he can carry an ox in one arm. His sword weighs more than you.” But then the princess had an idea. “Wait here,” she said, as she turned and quickly walked away.

She returned with a strange piece of ginseng. “This is no ordinary ginseng,” she revealed. “It is pullocho, a magical ginseng. Eat it.” Every day the warrior ate the pullocho the princess brought, and every day felt stronger. Finally, after two weeks, the warrior could lift the rock.

“Good, you're ready,” she said. “The ogre attacks our land for one-third of the year, does nothing but eat for another third, and only sleeps for the other third. He'll wake soon, so you must try to kill him tonight.”

The princess took the warrior to the ogre's bedroom. The huge monster filled a huge bed, his nine heads (all snoring loudly) spread across nine pillows. His rocky hide rumbled as he tossed and turned. The princess gave the warrior the ogre's huge sword and, thanks to the pullocho's power, with one huge swing he cut off all nine heads.

Unfortunately, that only served to awaken the now-headless and extra-angry ogre. He swung at the warrior with his immense, stony hands even as he tried to recapture his heads full of huge, thick, snapping teeth. Dodging the jaws and arms, the warrior managed to cut off one of the ogre's hands, but the dismembered hand kept fighting too.

Nearing exhaustion, the warrior suddenly remembered Sanshin's advice. He grabbed the spirit's bag, opened it, and threw ashes at the hand. When they touched the severed hand, it turned to simple stone and stopped moving. Dodging the ogre's body, the warrior peppered the necks with more ashes, and the body stopped moving, too. With only the heads left, the warrior covered them with ashes, and they also stopped moving.

The princess was so happy to be free, but there still was work to do. They opened all the ogre's barns. In one were all the animals the ogre had stolen from the kingdom; in another, the princess's sisters, nearly dead from hunger. A third barn held all the ogre's stolen gold and jewels. So they loaded a cart with the jewels, freed the animals, and made their way to the rope. First, the warrior sent up the three princesses, then the jewels and gold. But when it was the warrior's turn, the rope did not move. He yanked on it, but no one pulled him up.

The evil servants had ticked him and stolen the princesses and treasure! The warrior climbed the rope to the top, but the servants had covered the hole with a stone so huge that even his pullocho strength could not budge it.

The warrior returned to the bottom of the empty cave to think. He heard a donkey approaching from the darkness and as it got closer, saw someone riding on its back—Sanshin.

The Mountain Spirit gave the donkey to the warrior and told him to ride into the cave, toward the tallest tree. There, at the back of the cave, the warrior discovered a small path. Riding the uncomplaining donkey, he followed it for days, through the endless darkness, and last came into the light.

The warrior rode the long journey back to the palace. There the king was feasting with the servants, celebrating his daughters' return. The king was surprised when warrior rode up on a donkey, because the servants had said he died fighting the ogre. When the warrior explained, the king had the wicked servants beheaded. He gave the warrior his prettiest daughter to marry, a great estate, and many treasures, and the kingdom enjoyed peace for many years.

The demon's lumpy, flaming armor clanked heavily as it menaced Young-hee and Samjogo with his spear. Large, misshapen fangs jutted from its mouth at odd angles, and three bumpy horns covered its forehead. Long hairs, thick as broom bristles, shot from its eyebrows and sideburns. A cool, blue flame licked its skin and hair without burning, sometimes dripping like water. The monster emanated a foulness and evil Young-hee felt deep inside.
I guess there's no chance this guy turns out friendly like Mansoo
, Young-hee thought, eyeing the jagged blade.

BOOK: Young-hee and the Pullocho
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