The Sticky-Sticky Pine

Once there was a young woodcutter who lived in Japan. He was very poor but kind-hearted. Whenever he went to gather firewood, he would never tear off the living branches of a tree, but would instead gather the dead branches that had fallen on the ground. This was because the kind woodcutter knew what would happen if you tore a branch off a tree. The sap, which is like the blood of a tree, would drip and drip, as though the poor tree was bleeding. Since the woodcutter didn't want to hurt any trees, he never tore off any of their branches.

One day the woodcutter was walking beneath a tall pine tree looking for firewood when he heard a voice saying:

"Sticky, sticky is my sap,
For my tender twigs are snapped."

The woodcutter looked around, and sure enough, someone had broken three branches off the pine tree and its sap was running out.

Skillfully, the woodcutter mended the broken branches, saying:

"Now these tender twigs I'll wrap,
And in that way I'll stop the sap."

He tore pieces from his own clothes to make bandages. No sooner had he finished than many tiny gold and silver things fell from the tree. They were coins! The surprised woodcutter could not believe his eyes. He looked up at the pine tree and thanked it. Then he gathered up all the coins and took them home.

The kind woodcutter had so many gold and silver coins that he knew he was now a very rich man. Pine trees are a symbol of prosperity in Japan, and, sure enough, the grateful pine tree had repaid him for his kind act.

Just then a face appeared at the window of the woodcutter's house. It belonged to another woodcutter. But this woodcutter was neither nice nor kind. In fact, it was he who had torn off the three branches from the pine tree. When he saw the coins, he asked, "Where did you get all those coins? Look how nice and bright they are."

The kind woodcutter held up the coins for the other to see. They were oblong in shape, the way coins used to be in Japan, and he had five basketfuls. He told the mean woodcutter how he had got the coins.

"From that big pine tree?" asked the mean woodcutter.

"Yes, that was the one."

"Hmm," said the mean woodcutter and away he ran as fast as he could. He wanted some of the coins for himself.

The mean woodcutter came to the old pine tree, and the tree said:

"Sticky, sticky, is my blood.
Touch me, you'll receive a flood."

"Oh, that's just what I want," said the mean woodcutter. "A flood of gold and silver!" He reached up and broke off another branch. The pine tree suddenly showered him. But it showered him with sticky, sticky sap— not gold and silver at all!

The mean woodcutter was covered with the sap. It got in his hair and on his arms and legs. It was so sticky, he couldn't move at all. Though he called for help, no one could hear him. He had to remain there for three days—one day for each branch that he had broken—until the sap became soft enough for him to drag himself home.

And, after that, he never broke another branch off a living tree.