Kavi and the Whispering Mountain by Fabella Publishing
Reading Age: 4-8 years | Genre: 📜 Human Wisdom Tales, Allegory & Folklore
Synopsis: Young Kavi wants nothing more than to hear the Great Mountain sing its grandest secrets, but the louder he shouts, the harsher the valley roars back. As his angry words bounce back through the gorge, Kavi must learn a profound lesson from his wise grandfather. A breathtaking stor
Characters: Kavi, Baba Anand
Page 1
High above the cloud-draped mist of Pine Valley, six-year-old Kavi lived for sound. He listened to the sizzle of morning rain on cedar shingles and the rhythmic tap-tap of woodpeckers in the hollow trees. But most of all, Kavi loved the Great Mountain. He was certain the soaring peak held wondrous secrets, and he desperately wanted the mountain to speak back with its grandest voice.
Page 2
Down on the porch, Baba Anand shaved sweet-smelling bamboo with steady hands, humming a low valley tune. “Baba, when will the mountain talk to me like it talks to your flutes?” Kavi asked, bouncing on his heels. “The mountain is an honest mirror, little bird,” Baba chuckled in his warm baritone. “It listens before it speaks.” Kavi frowned. He didn’t want to wait; he wanted to shout!
Page 3
Determined to wake the mountain’s secret, Kavi dashed up to the lookout ledge. The cool morning air smelled of crisp pine needles. “HELLO, MOUNTAIN!” Kavi roared at the craggy grey cliffs, puffing out his chest. “GIVE ME A SONG!” Across the gorge, the jagged stones cracked back with a harsh, sharp snap: *A SONG!* It sounded angry and clipped. That was not the grand magic Kavi wanted.
Page 4
*If the mountain wants big noise, I will give it bigger,* Kavi thought. He rolled a wide sheet of dried bark into a giant horn, tilted his head toward the highest peak, and blew a booming shout through the cone. “TELL ME EVERYTHING!” he bellowed. The stone walls bounced the sound back with a hollow, thundering roar: *EVERYTHING! THING! THING!* The booming rumble startled him, rattling his teeth.
Page 5
Kavi scrambled along the rocky trail to the dry creek bed. He grabbed two heavy river stones and pounded them against a fallen hollow pine log. *THWACK! BANG! CLATTER!* “LISTEN TO ME NOW!” Kavi yelled into the canyon. The high cliffs tossed the noisy clatter back in a furious rattle of sound: *LISTEN! NOW! CLATTER!* A flock of wild sparrows fluttered out of the firs, fleeing the awful racket.
Page 6
Frustration flared hot in Kavi’s chest. Why was the mountain being so difficult? He marched all the way up to Whispering Ridge, where the stone drop-off plummeted into deep shadows. “WHY WON’T YOU BE NICE?” Kavi screamed, stamping his foot on the flinty dirt. “YOU ARE A STUBBORN ROCK!” The wind caught his words and whipped them against the cold, towering granite face across the valley.
Page 7
A heartbeat later, the mountain answered with terrifying force. *STUBBORN! ROCK! WHY WON’T YOU!* The words crashed down from the jagged peaks, sounding cruel and mean. The echoing roar shook the tall fir trees and bounced between the canyon walls until the entire valley seemed to scold him. Kavi clamped his hands over his ears, stepping backward as the harsh noise battered his ears.
Page 8
“STOP IT!” Kavi yelled back into the howling gorge, fighting against the cruel sound. *STOP IT!* the cliffs snapped. “I DON’T LIKE YOU!” he cried. *DON’T LIKE YOU!* the stony heights roared in return. Kavi shouted and hollered until his throat felt dry as dust and his voice splintered into tiny squeaks. Every bitter shout only summoned a louder, uglier reply from the grey peaks.
Page 9
Then, the noise died. An icy, heavy silence swallowed the valley. Kavi slumped onto a mossy boulder, clutching his knees. His throat ached, and his eyes stung with hot tears. The mountain felt colder and farther away than ever before. Soft footsteps crunched on the gravel behind him. Baba Anand sat down on the stone, his warm presence smelling of sawdust and pine resin.
Page 10
“It hates me, Baba,” Kavi whispered, burying his face in his hands. “The mountain does not hate, my boy,” Baba said gently. He lifted his smooth bamboo flute to his lips and blew a sweet, airy note. The melody floated outward like a warm ribbon of sunlight. A second later, the canyon softly sang the exact same tune back—gentle, ringing, and pure as golden honey.
Page 11
Kavi lifted his head, his eyes widening. “It gives back… Whatever you send it?” “Whatever you offer to the valley,” Baba smiled, “the valley returns to your heart.” Kavi stood tall. He took a slow breath of mountain air, cupped his small hands, and called out warmly into the dusk: “Good evening, beautiful mountain! Thank you for the view!” The peaks answered in a shimmering chorus: *BEAUTIFUL! THANK YOU!*
Page 12
The echo danced across the ridges like ringing bells, filling the sunset with music. Kavi laughed, skipping along the trail as Baba played his flute beside him. Every sweet note they shared drifted up toward the purple peaks, and the mountain sang every word right back, keeping them company all the way home. For whatever kindness you give the world, the world will always whisper back.