In a small town not far from here there was a field that was full of rocks, boulders both large and small, ranging from some the size of a kettle to some the size of a small house. Over the years, paths had been cleared through the field, passing in every direction that one might find on a compass until the field represented a vast maze of dusty ways which crossed each other time and again until it resembled an irregular spider’s web. The towns people had to pass through the field for many reasons, and it became common knowledge that someone, possibly a young boy, was living and hiding in the field of Rugged Rocks. Several travellers through the rocks had reported glimpses of a small figure clad in ragged clothes, who ran away when sighted. It was discussed in the town as to who the boy could be, there was no one missing in the town or the surrounding country, so it came to be understood that the figure must be some kind of spirit who was lost and had come to hide in their field of rocks.
This rumour unsettled the inhabitants of the town and people became afraid of venturing into the rocks. It was not clear what the Rugged Rascal would do to a traveller who dared venture into the rocks, but people became too scared to venture there alone. This was inconvenient in the extreme for many people in the region who were in the habit of using the paths through the rocks to shorten their journeys.
Then one day a local goat herd claimed that one, or was it two, of his goats had disappeared in the vicinity of the great Rock Maze. He claimed that this disappearance was completely out of character as his goats were loyal to him to a goat. He claimed that the Ragged Rascal must be stealing his goats and that he had definitely not sold the goats himself, unbeknownst to the owner of the goats, his uncle.
This turn of events seemed to demand some action and it was decided to send a party into the Rocks to apprehend the Ragged Rascal or frighten away any Ragged Spirit.
As the sun rose the next day, a swirling dusty wind was searching with cold fingers through the winding paths which spread their irregular net through the ragged rocks. A small group of nine men and women, armed with long sticks, their faces mostly covered with scarves to repel the dust, hooded and booted, they made their way slowly into the rocky maze. They split up and began to make their way through the maze, calling to each other in an attempt to keep in contact and not allow anyone or anything to slip between them. But, inevitably, as they moved deeper into the maze, they moved further and further apart, until each searcher became quite isolated. Half a day later, as the sun reached the point where the shadows amongst the stones maintained their smallest presence, the searchers began to emerge once more, at different points of the boundary of the great Field of Stone. They gathered together and it was agreed that nothing and no one had been seen in amongst the rocks and that their search had been fruitless. At that moment the last searcher stumbled out of the field carrying a larger wicker basket covered with a cloth.
‘I have seen something that you will not believe,’ he said quietly, with the voice of exhaustion. ‘There is a scented garden, like unto a paradise, lost in the maze. I chased the Ragged Rascal long and hard before he led me to it.’ Then he proceeded to relate the events that had befallen him.
After searching diligently through the passageways and aware that the sun would soon be at its highest point in the sky, the searcher had been about to return to the edge of the rocky field when he thought he glimpsed, just for a second, a tangle haired child peering at him around the base of a rock. He pretended not to notice but quickened his step in the hope of catching the youngster. As he reached the corner where he had had seen the face, he saw a dirty foot disappearing around the next junction in the paths and quickened his step once more. As the chase continued, he found himself running as fast as he was able and was amazed that the Ragged Rascal was always able to stay ahead of him. The chase twisted to the left and right so many times that the chaser completely lost any sense of direction and concentrated solely on following the Ragged Rascal as he ran through the Rocks.
Suddenly, from somewhere close in front of him, he heard the clang of metal on metal. He slowed his pace and approached the next corner with apprehension. But what he saw when he poked his head around the next great rock was not what he expected. There, built carefully between two of the largest rocks, both the size of haystacks, was a pair of wrought iron gates with curlicues and motifs across their broad fronts, indicating an entrance of some grandeur and consequence.
He approached slowly and peered suspiciously through the bars. There, laid out before him, was an exquisite garden, scented by many blooms gathered in tidy flower beds. A large gravel path leading away through the shrubs and ornamental trees. The Ragged Rascal was standing beneath a pergola, some distance into the garden, but still just visible from the gate. He was looking up into the eyes of an elegantly clad lady with a large hat and a covered basket in her hands.
‘And who might you be?’ she asked the boy.
‘I am the boy who knows all the paths but is always lost,’ said the boy, ‘I am the boy who runs but never arrives.’
‘In that case you must take these provisions in my basket which I have provided for you.’ said the woman gently and with that she handed the boy the basket, turned and walked away amongst the trees. The boy looked under the cloth and turned to move back towards the gates. The chaser ducked away from the gates and hid in a deep shadowed recess to the side of the entrance. When the gate clanged again, he jumped out and tried to grab the Ragged Rascal as he turned away from the gates but all he managed to get hold of was the handle of the basket and the boy was gone.
Carrying the basket, the chaser had made his way back out of the maze with some difficulty, stumbling, exhausted out into the sunlight.
Once the group had heard this story, they went back to the town to discuss what to do and hatch a plan to unravel this mystery.
The next day the towns folk decided to make a new search for both the boy and the garden. Two people, a man and a woman, equipped this time with provisions that would allow them to spend a full day in the maze, were sent into the Rocks to reveal the Mystery of the Ragged Rascal and the Scented Garden. The townsfolk waited patiently, with great expectation of revelations concerning the maze and its inhabitants, but as the day wore on, curiosity turned to impatience and concern as evening drew in and the shadows lengthened. As night fell the townsfolk retired to their houses, saying to each other that the morning would bring good news of the re-emergence of the two brave searchers.
The Guardians of the Cave 