What is a Fairy? 'Fairy' is the generic term for all creatures, mistakenly called 'supernatural', who are neither in God's nor the devil's service. Fairies inhabit most countries in the world, but each nation has it's particular cultural group. Irish leprechauns, Scottish brownies and German Kobolds are all fairies, all independent of religion and quite natural in movement, taste and manners. In Ireland two distinct fairy types exist - the trooping fairies and the solitary fairies. The trooping fairies are to be found in merry bands about the hawthorn tree or at feasts in gilded fairy palaces. They delight in company, while the solitary fairies avoid large gatherings preferring to be left by themselves and separate from one another. The trooping fairies are the major and presiding residents of fairyland, but the solitary ones have greater interest in mortal affairs and hence are generally more familiar to us. Irish fairyland exists now. It has always existed alongside mortal l borders and there has always been considerable intercourse between the two realms, although the traffic has slowed down a bit in modern times. But, although few mortals have the ability any more to see those of fairyland, fairies still live in immortal and good health and will yet manifest themselves to those sincere of belief and simple and passionate in nature. Fairies and the Devil The story goes that when fairies were cast from Heaven some were cast into Hell and became the Devils servants engaged in tempting mortal souls from their heavenly purpose. The proof for this some claim is that fairies have cloven feet; and since the devil and farieis conduct most heir business at nitght they must be in league. But, in truth, the fairies are most indifferent to the devil, except for maybe the Pooka. Besides, the continual torments of hell allow Devils little opportunity to disport about the Irish countryside; and the fairies are nothing if not ladies and gentlemen of leisure. In the ancient days witches, devils and evil spirits as well as fairies molested the mortal lands; and humans were not always able to discriminate between mailicious and mischievous deeds. All spirits were conveniently lumped together. But since the fairies act from desire and not morality, the principles of evil are as incomprehensible as the principles of good. The sidhe, like their familiar friend Death, stand outside of all human moral categories Pooka At night the Pooka goes abroad, sometimes as an eagle flinging a man on his back and flying to the moon, sometimes as a black goat with wide wicked horns leaping on a mortals shoulders and clinging with its claws until the man drops dead or blesses himself thrice. It is a bird, a bat, an ass, a solitary nightmare shape. Although it is an indistinct creature, like a dream dimly remembered yet arousing great fears, its flesh is warm, solid and palpable to the touch. Most often it appears as a terrible black horse, huge and sleek, breathing blue flames, with eyes of yellow fire, a snort like thunder, a smell like sulphur, a stride that clears mountains and a human voice deep as a cave. With a sound sometimes like the head on crashing of trains, sometimes like the wind ripping of trees from the earth, it haunts rivers and frightens fishermen and sailors, shivering in their boats, fearful of approaching land. Sometimes it follows ships to sea. Often at night the pooka lays pitfalls before horses' feet, taking a man up and riding him clear round the country at breakneck speed until he loses his grip and flies headlong into a bog or ditch. Yet, for all its black deeds, the pooka now is a tame creature compared to what it was before Brian Boru curbed it. In ancient days the pooka was Lord over all that went forth after dark, save on those errands of mercy. All roads belonged to it; and few who travelled them lived to tell. For the pooka kicked hard enough to pulverise human bones and could lift a man like an empty sack onto its back and jump with him into the sea, so deep that he drowned. Sometimes it sprang over a cliff and let the man, a bloody corpse tumble to the bottom. Satan's minister it was then and God save the poor sinner caught by the pooka on Halloween Eve, for he would find himself in the midst of a witches ring, with his limbs torn from their sockets, and the fiends toasting his health with huge noggins of his blood! But, Brian Boru tamed it with a charm made from three hairs from the pookas tail and thrown around its neck like a bridle. At the first pull, the hairs were transformed into threads of steel. Crossing himself and mounting, Brian Boru fiercely reined the beast and rode it until it heaved with exhaustion and promised never to kill another man save un-Irish blackguards. Since then it takes only drunkards on its madcap ridings and always returns them to the ditch where it found them, no worse for some bruises and a drunken tale. Now, it avoids the highways, sticking to the footpaths, where a man with too many pints might stumble, but, heroes such as Brian Boru hardly travel. Many precipices and caverns, places where a mortal might go astray in the night are named after it. But now as always, those who walk on God's path suffer no harm.