The Gelligaer Fairies

Years ago, when all rabbits were wild and lived in warrens, not in hutches, Gelligaer mountain was riddled with rabbits. At dusk they hopped out of their snuggeries to play their fluffy antics. They made themselves as dizzy as dice, sliding down trees on their tails, dangling from branches by their long ears, and roundabouting inside the dark green fairy rings.

Fairies tenanted Gelligaer mountain too. Like the rabbits they nestled in little burrows and made front doors from grass and weeds.

On a night that was as dark as a cow’s stomach, two poachers left Llancaiach, the cradle of the Caiach riverside, to rustle rabbits on Gelligaer Common. They pegged their nets of the burrows’ leafy tunnels and drove down their ferret, pink eyes burning like hot coals, to force the rabbits out.

The poachers hunted all moon long but were out of luck. They gathered their nets, slung their sacks over their shoulders, and plodded homeward. As they trudged past Gelliargwellt farm, a shrill voice suddenly squeaked from one of the sacks: “Hello, brother, where are you?”

“On the back of a scoundrel”, came the penny-whistle reply from the other sack.

The poachers shuddered in their shoes and with the hearts of deers dropped their bags to the ground and took flight.

Out of the sacks clambered two fairies, clad in their uniform of red jackets and green hats. They laughed fit to burst their fairy stitches. The poachers had fallen into their snare, and were diddled into dropping them near the Gelliargwellt farm, where, who knows what mischief they intended.

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