The Fairies of Merlin's Rock

About two hundred years ago, there lived a poor man. He worked as a farmhand on a farm in Lanarkshire, where he was, as they say, at everyone's beck and call—running errands and doing whatever he was told. One day, the master sent him to dig peat in a peat bog. It should be noted that at the edge of this bog stood a rock, very strange in appearance. It was called "Merlin's Rock," named so because, according to legend, the famous wizard Merlin had once lived there long, long ago.

The farmhand arrived at the bog and set to work with great diligence. He dug peat near Merlin's Rock for a long time and had already piled up a good amount when he suddenly shuddered in surprise—a tiny woman stood before him, the likes of which he had never seen in his life. She was no more than two feet tall, dressed in a green gown and red stockings, with long yellow hair flowing loose over her shoulders.

The woman was so small and so pretty that the farmhand, dumbfounded, stopped working and, sticking his spade into the peat, stared at her wide-eyed. But his astonishment grew even greater when the woman raised her tiny finger and said:

"What would you say if I sent my husband to tear the roof off your house, eh? You humans think you can do whatever you please!" She stamped her tiny foot and sternly ordered the farmhand: "Put the peat back right now, or you'll regret it later!"

The poor man had heard many tales about fairies and how they take revenge on those who wrong them. Trembling with fear, he began to put the peat back. He placed each piece exactly where he had taken it from, so all his hard work went to waste.

Once he finished, he looked around for his strange companion. But she was gone. He hadn't noticed how or where she had disappeared.

The farmhand slung his spade over his shoulder, returned to the farm, and told the master everything that had happened. Then he suggested it might be better to dig peat at the other end of the bog.

But the master only laughed. He didn't believe in spirits, fairies, elves, or anything magical, and he was displeased that his farmhand believed in such nonsense. So he decided to set him straight. He ordered the farmhand to hitch the horse to the cart, go to the bog, and collect all the dug-up peat, then spread it out in the yard to dry when he returned.

The farmhand didn't want to obey, but he had no choice. Weeks passed, and nothing bad happened to him, so he eventually calmed down. He even began to think that the tiny woman had been a figment of his imagination and that his master had been right.

Winter passed, then spring, then summer, and autumn came again. Exactly a year had passed since the day the farmhand had dug peat near Merlin's Rock.

That evening, the farmhand left the farm after sunset and headed home. As a reward for his hard work, the master had given him a small jug of milk, which he was carrying to his wife.

He felt cheerful and walked briskly, humming a tune. But as soon as he approached Merlin's Rock, he was overcome with an irresistible fatigue. His eyes grew heavy, as if before sleep, and his legs felt like lead.

"I'll sit here and rest a bit," he thought. "The way home seems unusually long today." So he sat down in the grass beneath the rock and soon fell into a deep, heavy sleep.

He woke up around midnight. The moon had risen over Merlin's Rock. The farmhand rubbed his eyes and saw a huge whirlwind of fairies dancing around him. They sang, danced, laughed, pointed at him with their tiny fingers, shook their little fists, and spun around him in the moonlight.

Stunned, the farmhand got to his feet and tried to walk away—far away from the fairies. But it was no use! No matter which way he stepped, the fairies chased after him, keeping him trapped in their enchanted circle. He couldn't break free.

Then they stopped dancing, brought forward the prettiest and most elegant fairy, and shouted with shrill laughter:

"Dance, human, dance with us! Dance, and you'll never want to leave us! This is your partner!"

The poor farmhand couldn't dance. He shyly resisted and tried to push the elegant fairy away. But she grabbed his hands and pulled him along. It was as if a magical potion had entered his veins. In an instant, he was leaping, spinning, gliding through the air, and bowing as if he had danced all his life. Strangest of all, he completely forgot about his home and family.

He felt so good that he lost all desire to escape the fairies.

The merry dance went on all night. The tiny fairies danced like mad, and the farmhand danced in their enchanted circle. But suddenly, a loud "cock-a-doodle-doo" echoed over the bog. The rooster on the farm was crowing to greet the dawn.

The merriment stopped instantly. The circle broke apart. The fairies, with anxious cries, huddled together and rushed toward Merlin's Rock, dragging the farmhand with them. As soon as they reached the rock, a door he had never noticed before opened by itself. The fairies slipped inside, and the door slammed shut behind them.

It led into a vast hall, dimly lit by thin candles and filled with tiny beds. The fairies, exhausted from dancing, immediately lay down to sleep, while the farmhand sat on a stone fragment in the corner and wondered, "What happens next?"

But he must have been enchanted. When the fairies woke up and began their household chores, the farmhand watched them curiously. He didn't even think about leaving them. The fairies not only did household tasks but also engaged in other, rather strange activities—things the farmhand had never seen before. But, as you'll later learn, he was forbidden to speak of it.

As evening approached, someone touched his elbow. The farmhand shuddered and turned to see the same tiny woman in the green dress and red stockings who had scolded him a year ago when he was digging peat.

"Last year, you took the peat from the roof of my house," she said. "But the peat has grown back, and grass covers it again. So you may return home. For what you did, you were punished. But now your sentence is over, and it was no small one. First, swear that you will not tell anyone what you have seen."

The farmhand gladly agreed and solemnly swore to keep silent. Then the door opened, and he stepped out of the rock into the open air.

His jug of milk stood in the grass where he had left it before falling asleep. It seemed as if the farmer had given it to him only the evening before.

But when the farmhand returned home, he discovered that wasn't the case. His wife stared at him in fright, as if he were a ghost, and his children had grown up and didn't seem to recognize him—they stared at him as if he were a stranger. And no wonder, for he had left them when they were very young.

"Where have you been all these long, long years?" cried the farmhand's wife when she recovered and finally believed he was truly her husband and not a ghost. "How could you leave me and the children?"

Then the farmhand understood: the single day he had spent in Merlin's Rock was equal to seven years in the human world.

That's how harshly the "little folk"—the fairies—had punished him!

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The Fairies of Merlin's Rock

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