The Golden Ax and the Silver Ax

High in the rugged mountains of ancient Korea, where mist clung to the pine trees and ancient spirits were said to dwell among the rocks and streams, there lived two woodcutters whose lives would teach an important lesson about the power of honesty and the dangers of greed.

The first woodcutter was named Lee Jinsu, a man of humble origins but noble character. He was neither wealthy nor particularly skilled, but he possessed something far more valuable than riches or talent - an absolutely honest heart that had never been corrupted by envy or greed. Every morning, Jinsu would wake before dawn, shoulder his simple iron axe, and climb the steep mountain paths to gather firewood, which he would sell in the village market to earn just enough money to feed his elderly mother and himself.

Jinsu’s axe was old and worn, passed down from his father and grandfather before him. The handle was smooth from decades of use, and the iron blade had been sharpened so many times that it was significantly smaller than when it was new. But Jinsu treasured this humble tool because it represented his family’s legacy of honest work and because it enabled him to earn an honorable living through his own efforts.

The second woodcutter was named Park Tamsu, who lived in a larger house on the other side of the mountain. Tamsu was younger and stronger than Jinsu, and he owned several high-quality axes made of the finest steel. However, despite his advantages, Tamsu was constantly dissatisfied with his lot in life. He spent his days looking enviously at the wealth of others and scheming about ways to get rich quickly without having to work so hard.

“Why should I spend my entire life cutting wood like a common laborer?” Tamsu would complain to anyone who would listen. “Surely there must be easier ways to become wealthy. If only I could find some secret treasure or win the favor of a powerful patron, I could live like a nobleman instead of a peasant.”

One particularly beautiful spring morning, Jinsu was working near a crystal-clear mountain stream that was fed by snowmelt from the highest peaks. The water was so pure that it reflected the sky like a perfect mirror, and the sound it made as it flowed over the smooth stones was like gentle music.

As Jinsu worked to cut down a dead tree that would provide excellent firewood, his concentration was absolute. He took pride in making clean, efficient cuts that would not damage the surrounding forest, and he always worked with respect for the natural world that provided his livelihood.

However, in his focused effort to make a particularly difficult cut, Jinsu swung his axe with more force than usual. The blade bit deeply into the wood, but the impact sent vibrations up the handle that loosened his grip. To his horror, the precious axe slipped from his hands and flew through the air in a high arc before splashing into the deepest part of the mountain stream.

Jinsu rushed to the water’s edge and peered desperately into the clear depths, but the stream was much deeper than it appeared, and the swift current had already carried his axe downstream to where the bottom disappeared into shadowy darkness.

“My axe!” Jinsu cried out in anguish. “How could I have been so careless? That axe was everything to me - my livelihood, my inheritance from my father, my only means of supporting my poor mother!”

He waded into the cold stream up to his waist, searching frantically with his hands along the rocky bottom, but the water was too deep and the current too strong. After an hour of futile searching, Jinsu finally had to admit that his precious tool was lost forever.

Sitting on the bank with water dripping from his clothes, Jinsu felt overwhelmed by despair. Without his axe, he couldn’t work, and without work, he couldn’t earn money to buy food for his mother or himself. The little savings he had would last only a few days, and he had no way to purchase a new axe.

“What will become of us?” he whispered to himself, tears mixing with the stream water on his face. “Mother is too old to work, and I have no other skills to earn a living. We will surely starve without my axe.”

As Jinsu sat in his misery, contemplating his desperate situation, the surface of the stream began to shimmer with an unusual light. The water, which had been crystal clear moments before, now seemed to glow with an inner radiance that had nothing to do with the sunlight filtering through the trees.

Suddenly, the water in the center of the stream began to bubble and churn, as if something large was rising from the depths. Jinsu watched in amazement as a figure emerged from the water - an old man with a long white beard and robes that seemed to be made of flowing water and mist.

This was the Mountain Spirit, an ancient being who had watched over these peaks and valleys for countless centuries. His eyes held the wisdom of ages, and his presence radiated a power that was both awesome and benevolent. In his hands, he carried two magnificent axes that caught the sunlight and threw it back in brilliant flashes.

“Young woodcutter,” the Mountain Spirit said in a voice that sounded like wind through pine trees, “I have observed your distress and wish to help you. I have recovered an axe from my stream, but I want to make certain it belongs to you. Tell me, is this your axe?”

As he spoke, the Mountain Spirit held up the first axe, and Jinsu gasped at its beauty. The blade was made of pure gold that gleamed like captured sunlight, and the handle was carved from precious jade inlaid with intricate designs. It was the most beautiful tool Jinsu had ever seen, worth more than he could earn in a lifetime of cutting wood.

For a moment, Jinsu was tempted. With such a valuable axe, he could sell it and have enough money to support his mother comfortably for the rest of her life. He would never have to worry about poverty again, and all his troubles would be solved.

But Jinsu’s honest nature was stronger than his desperation. He looked at the magnificent golden axe and shook his head slowly.

“Honored Spirit,” he said respectfully, “that beautiful axe is not mine. My axe was made of simple iron, old and worn from many years of use. I could never claim something that doesn’t belong to me, no matter how desperate my situation.”

The Mountain Spirit nodded approvingly and set aside the golden axe. Then he held up a second axe, this one made of gleaming silver with a handle of polished ebony. It was almost as beautiful as the first, and certainly valuable enough to solve all of Jinsu’s financial problems.

“Perhaps this one is yours?” the Mountain Spirit asked, watching Jinsu’s face carefully.

Again, Jinsu felt the pull of temptation. The silver axe was exquisite, and claiming it would mean security and comfort for both him and his mother. But once again, his integrity won out over his material needs.

“No, honored Spirit,” Jinsu replied with a heavy heart, “that is not my axe either. Mine was made of common iron, scratched and dented from long use. It was not beautiful or valuable, but it was honest work that earned it, and I could only honestly claim what truly belonged to me.”

The Mountain Spirit smiled with deep satisfaction and set aside the silver axe. Then, reaching into the water one more time, he produced a third axe - old, worn, and made of simple iron. It was exactly the axe that Jinsu had lost, looking small and humble compared to the magnificent tools that had been offered before it.

“And this axe?” the Mountain Spirit asked, though he already knew the answer.

Jinsu’s face lit up with joy and relief. “Yes! That’s my axe! My father’s axe, and his father’s before him. It may not be beautiful or valuable, but it’s mine, and it represents honest work and family tradition.”

The Mountain Spirit nodded with great approval. “Young man,” he said, “your honesty in the face of great temptation has impressed me deeply. In a world where many people would lie to gain advantage, you have chosen truth even when it meant continued hardship. Such virtue deserves reward.”

To Jinsu’s amazement, the Mountain Spirit handed him not just his own iron axe, but the golden and silver axes as well.

“Because you were honest when you could have been deceitful,” the Spirit explained, “because you chose integrity over material gain, you have earned these gifts. Use them wisely, help others in need, and remember that honesty is the most valuable treasure of all.”

With these words, the Mountain Spirit sank back into the stream, leaving Jinsu alone on the bank holding three axes and marveling at what had just occurred. He could hardly believe his good fortune, but even more than the material reward, he felt proud that he had remained true to his principles in the face of temptation.

Jinsu carefully wrapped the golden and silver axes in cloth and returned to his village, where he used his newfound wealth to care for his mother and help other poor families in the community. He continued to work with his original iron axe, never forgetting that honest labor was the foundation of his good fortune.

Word of Jinsu’s encounter with the Mountain Spirit and his miraculous reward spread quickly throughout the region. When the story reached Park Tamsu, the greedy woodcutter, he was consumed with jealousy and immediately began plotting how he could duplicate Jinsu’s success.

“If that simple fool could win such riches just by talking to a mountain spirit,” Tamsu reasoned, “surely someone as clever as I am could do even better. All I need to do is drop my axe in the same stream and wait for the spirit to appear.”

The next morning, Tamsu traveled to the exact spot where Jinsu had lost his axe. After looking around to make sure no one was watching, he deliberately threw his best steel axe into the deepest part of the stream.

“Oh no!” he cried out dramatically, putting on a show of distress for the benefit of any spirits who might be listening. “My precious axe has fallen into the water! Whatever will I do? How will I support my poor family?”

Tamsu’s acting was not particularly convincing, since he had no poor family to support and had never shown concern for anyone other than himself. But he continued his performance, hoping to attract the Mountain Spirit’s attention.

Before long, the water began to shimmer and bubble just as it had for Jinsu. The Mountain Spirit emerged from the depths, carrying the same golden and silver axes he had shown to the honest woodcutter.

But this time, the Spirit’s expression was stern rather than benevolent. He had witnessed Tamsu’s deception and knew exactly what kind of man he was dealing with.

“Woodcutter,” the Mountain Spirit said in a voice that carried warning, “I have found an axe in my stream. Tell me, is this yours?”

He held up the magnificent golden axe, and Tamsu’s eyes immediately lit up with greed. Without any hesitation or consideration of honesty, he reached eagerly for the precious tool.

“Yes! Yes, that’s exactly my axe!” Tamsu lied enthusiastically. “I’m so grateful that you found it! That golden axe has been in my family for generations!”

The Mountain Spirit’s expression grew even more disapproving. “And this silver axe - is this also yours?” he asked, holding up the second beautiful tool.

“Oh yes!” Tamsu exclaimed, his greed overcoming any semblance of logic. “That’s my second axe! I dropped both of them at the same time! How fortunate that you were able to recover both of my precious family heirlooms!”

The Mountain Spirit set both axes aside and regarded Tamsu with cold disappointment. “You are a liar and a thief,” he said sternly. “You deliberately threw your own axe into my stream hoping to claim treasures that don’t belong to you. You show no honesty, no integrity, and no respect for truth.”

With a gesture of his hand, the Mountain Spirit caused the water to churn violently. From its depths rose not golden and silver axes, but Tamsu’s original steel axe - now rusted and corroded beyond use.

“Because you chose greed over honesty,” the Spirit continued, “you will receive exactly what your character deserves. Your axe is now as worthless as your integrity. Perhaps when you have learned the value of truthfulness, fortune will smile upon you again.”

The Mountain Spirit disappeared beneath the water, leaving Tamsu standing on the bank holding a rusted, useless axe. Not only had he failed to gain any treasure, but he had lost his ability to work and earn a living.

As Tamsu discovered over the following weeks, his punishment extended beyond just the ruined axe. Word of his attempted deception spread throughout the mountain region, and his reputation was forever tainted. No one wanted to do business with someone known to be dishonest, and he found it increasingly difficult to find work or earn people’s trust.

Meanwhile, Jinsu continued to prosper, not just because of his material rewards, but because his honest reputation brought him opportunities and friendships that money alone could never provide. People sought him out for advice, trusted him with important tasks, and included him in their business ventures because they knew his word was as solid as the mountains themselves.

The tale of the two woodcutters became one of the most beloved stories in Korean folklore, passed down from generation to generation as a teaching tool for children and adults alike. It reminded everyone who heard it that honesty is always the best policy, not because it always brings immediate rewards, but because it builds the kind of character and reputation that leads to lasting happiness and success.

Parents would tell this story to their children when they faced temptations to lie or cheat, reminding them that the Mountain Spirit - representing the moral order of the universe - is always watching and that truth will ultimately be rewarded while deception brings its own punishment.

The story also taught that material wealth, while useful, is far less valuable than integrity and good character. Jinsu’s true treasure was not the golden and silver axes, but the honest heart that made him worthy of receiving them.

In the years that followed, many people climbed to that same mountain stream, hoping to encounter the Mountain Spirit and test their own honesty. Some say that on quiet mornings, when the mist rises from the water and the sunlight filters through the pine trees, you can still see the Spirit’s presence shimmering just beneath the surface, waiting to reward virtue and punish vice with perfect justice.

The legend reminds us that in a world full of temptations to compromise our principles for material gain, the greatest wealth comes to those who choose honesty over advantage, truth over profit, and integrity over immediate gratification. For in the end, what we are matters far more than what we own, and the respect we earn through honest living is more precious than any treasure made of gold or silver.