"The Goblin of the Plains" is a Japanese folk tale.

Once upon a time and long ago in Japan, some people spoke of a terrible goblin who haunted the woods of a province known as Adachigahara. They told tales of the goblin devouring people who crossed its path. They said this goblin could transform itself, taking the shape of an old woman and luring strangers into its cave. Others said the goblin laid a trap underground. They said the goblin was a cannibal, and that is why, from time to time, people would vanish without a trace.

But others refused to believe in such stories. And after a while they stopped telling the tale of the goblin of Adachigahara.

One day a Buddhist priest was walking across the plains of Adachigahara. He was a young man, and though he had heard tales of the goblin, he never believed them. He was traveling from shrine to shrine to pray. He thought only of his prayers, and of the long journey ahead of him.

It was a crisp autumn day and the winds carried the chill of the winter to come. The young man had walked for hours. As the sun was setting, he had not come across any inn or house. He began to worry about where he would spend the night. He decided he must pray, for he had great faith in Buddha's protection.

Just as he finished his prayer, he saw a bright light ahead of him. "My prayer is answered," he sighed with relief, and began to walk quickly toward the light.

The light came from a tiny, dilapidated cottage. The doors were slanted and the thatched roof was nearly worn bare. As he moved closer, he saw through a broken window an old woman sitting at her spinning wheel. The sight warmed his heart, so he hurried to her door.

"Dear woman," he called from the road. "Good evening. I hope you will excuse me, but I am a weary traveler, a stranger in this part of the world. I wonder if you might allow me to spend the night in your cottage."

The old woman seemed reluctant, but when he smiled at her, she softened, and opened the door. "Come in and warm yourself," she said, and when he was comfortable beside the fire, she bustled about as she cooked him supper.

She served a great steaming bowl of rice, and as they ate, they spoke about the little things of life — the way the weather had turned, the beauty of the sunset, the silence of the plains. The young man felt lucky. This was a most pleasant way to spend a night. Buddha had, indeed, answered his prayer.

As the night grew later, the fire began to die down. "Let me fetch some wood," said the young priest, but the woman stood quickly.

"No, no, you are my guest," she said. "I shall go out and find wood. You stay here." She set out into the cold night air.

She was gone only a moment. "Young man," she said shyly, "please take care not to go to the back of my house while I am gone," and before he could ask why, she left again.

For a few minutes the young man basked in the comfort of the fire, but after a while he began to think about the old woman's warning, and as the fire died down, a feeling of uneasiness crept up his spine.

"What could be in the back of the house?" he wondered aloud, and suddenly, as he looked around, he felt goosebumps crawling up and down his limbs. He vaguely remembered a story about a goblin who haunted these very woods.

"Foolish legends," he said to himself, but he decided he must peek in the back of the house. He stood up and tiptoed to the rear of the house, and there he saw a door. Slowly, without making a sound, he opened it a crack, but he nearly fainted at the sight. This was a room filled with stacks of human bones!

The young priest had to swallow his scream as he turned from the room, and gathering all his strength, he dashed out the front door.

So it was true: The goblin of Adachigahara did exist.

As he ran down the front path, he heard a voice calling, "Stop, please stop."

But the young priest did not stop. He ran faster and faster, and yet her voice was louder as she shrieked, "You are a wicked man! You looked into a forbidden place. You must return and pay me for your crime!"

A moment earlier the young man had been exhausted, but now all his fatigue left him, and as he ran, he prayed to Buddha for his safety.

He looked back and saw what the woman had become: A dreadful creature was chasing him, and in its hand it held a bloody knife. "Stop and return!" it shrieked.

The young man ran on and on, and as he felt his strength failing him, dawn broke on the horizon. The darkness lifted, and as it did, the goblin disappeared.

But now the young man knew he had met the Goblin of Adachigahara, and he fell to the ground, bowed his head and said a prayer of thanks for Buddha's protection. From that day on, it was he who told everyone he met of the Goblin of Adachigahara. Whenever anyone looked at him as if they did not believe him, he told this very tale, and prayed to Buddha to protect even those who disbelieve.