The Lion Hunter

A young man from the town desiring to bag a wild fowl or a hare, entered forest, riding a horse. He had dressed well as a hunter and had his bow painted in glittering colors. A wood-cutter who saw him was quite impressed by his appearance and his horse. "Hunter, sir, a moment ago I saw a large lion going this way!"


"Is that so? Which way?" asked the young man gravely. The question impressed the wood-cutter so much that he not only showed him the way but also followed him. He had never met a lion-hunter in life. Next they met a few villagers. They were small hunters. The two wood-cutters confided to man's mission. They forgot their own business and joined the two wood-cutters in following the brave rider. 


The young man trotted on silently, but feeling quite proud that he had become an object of wonder and admiration for so many. They went quite a long way when they met another wood-cutter. "Have you seen a lion going this way?" asked the young man, pulling the rein. "Of course I have! It has just entered that cave!" said the wood-cutter showing a cave that was a few yards away.


The little crowd felt quite tense. Their eyes were glued to the rider. Now is the moment to watch him act! But the rider turned his horse back at once. "I just wanted to see the way the lion took. I never wanted to see the lion!" he said and galloped away as fast as he could.


                                                                             - A Folk tale from Greece

The Origin Of Stories

"Mother, tell us a story!" Manzandaba's children cried out as the family sat around the fire at the end of the day. That really put Manzandaba in a spot, because she just didn't know any, and as hard as she thought, she couldn't think of any. Has that ever happened to you - when someone says "tell us a story' and your mind goes blank? Well, that's just what happened to poor Manzandaba. She asked the others in the village whether they knew any stories, but they didn't.

Now, the village in which these story-hungry children lived was in deep Africa , in Zululand . The people there hunted for meat in the bush at the edge of the village or tilled the clearing around the village. Sometimes, they would go down to the coast and fish or catch the funny crabs that scuttled sideways on the sea-smoothened sand. The people of the village were very clever with their hands. When they were not hunting for meat or tilling the land to grow their crops, they wove beautiful baskets and carved things out of wood. The cleverest of them all was Manzandaba's husband, Zenzele. He was an artist who could carve the most beautiful pictures in wood. He carved birds and impala deer, and other animals that roamed on the earth. He put in trees and plants and flowers into his pictures. But even he did not know any stories.

One day, after the children had been particularly loud in their demand for stories, Zenzele told Manzandaba: "Why don't you go out and look for stories? I shall look after our home and children while you are away". Manz thought it was a very good idea. After she had packed some uputhu (maize meal porridge) in a basket to eat with boiled amadumbe tubers (which grow in the swamps), she hugged her husband and kissed her children goodbye. Then she placed the basket on her head and set out to look for stories.

As Manz walked gracefully with the basket on her head with the colourful beads on her dress swaying gently, a hare popped out from behind a bush and looked at her curiously. Now Manz knew that the hare was a clever and tricky fellow, but she thought she better ask him if he knew any stories. You never know who can be of help. "O! Clever Hare!" she said flatteringly. "Do you know any stories? My children want to hear stories every evening!"

"Stories?" repeated the hare scornfully. "Why, I know millions of them! But I have no time for stories now. Don't I have a million other more important things to do?"

He bounded off with a hop, skip and a jump. Manzandaba realised he was lying! He didn't have any stories! He was a real trickster. As Manz walked along shaking her head at him, she met Fene, the baboon with her babies. "O! Fene," she called out, "do you tell stories to your children?"

"Stories? What are stories?" asked Fene. "In any case, I'm too busy trying to keep my babies fed and warm. I've no time for anything else". With a sigh, Manzandaba continued on her way. An owl nodding in a wild fig tree next caught her eye."O! Owl," she called out loudly, "do you have any stories you could give me to take back home? My children want to hear some".

Well, the owl was very upset at having been disturbed while she was sleeping. "Who's that yelling into my ears?" she hooted. "What do you want? Stories! You woke me up for stories? Don't you have any useful work to do that you wander around the forest looking for stories? These humans cannot live in peace; they are looking for something or doing something", she grumbled as she settled herself on a higher branch and once more began to nod off. And Manzandaba sadly went her way.

Next, she came upon an elephant flapping his large ears as he munched on a bunch of bananas. "O! Kind Elephant," she asked, "do you know any stories? My people are hungry for some tales, and we do not have any! Do you know where one can look for them?" Now the elephant being a kind animal felt sorry for the worried woman. "Well", he said, "I do not know of any stories. But why don't you ask the Eagle? He is the king of birds and flies so high in the sky that he sees many things which others don't".

"O! That's a good idea!" Manz exclaimed. "Thank you so much!"So Manzandaba went looking for the great fish eagle. Near the mouth of the Tugela River, she saw him swooping down from the sky, talons outstretched to grab a fish. Excitedly she ran towards him. "O! Great Eagle!" she called, startling him into dropping the fish that he had picked up. He circled around and landed on the shore near the woman.

"Hey, why did you do that?" he demanded. "You made me drop my supper. What do you want?" "O! Great and wise Eagle," began Manzandaba in a flattering way, because she knew the Eagle was a very vain bird. "My people are hungry for stories but we have none. I've been searching high and low but haven't found any. Now I'm quite desperate and feel I'll never find stories. Do you know of any that I can take back to them?"  "Well", the Eagle said, feeling very important, "I'm quite wise, but I do not know everything. I only know of the things that are here on the face of the earth. But there's one who knows even the secrets of the deep, dark ocean. Perhaps he could help you. I'll try and call him for you. Stay here and wait for me!"

So Manzandaba waited several days for her friend the fish eagle to return. Finally he came back to her. "Here I am!" he called. "Did you think that I was not going to come back? But, see who I have brought with me! My friend, the big sea turtle, has agreed to take you to a place where you can find stories!" Then as Manz gazed at the water, the great sea turtle lifted himself out of the ocean.  "Climb onto my back and hold onto my shell", said the sea turtle in his deep voice. "I'll carry you to the Land of the Spirit People".So Manz caught hold of his shell, and down they went into the depths of the sea. As they journeyed deeper and deeper into the ocean, Manz's eyes grew rounder and rounder. Everything was so amazing and beautiful, quite unlike the sights she had seen on the face of the earth.

Finally they came to the bottom of the ocean where the Spirit People dwell. The sea turtle took her straight to the thrones of the King and Queen. Manzandaba looked at them in awe. They sat on such magnificent thrones and their faces shone with such a light that she was a little shy and afraid. She bowed low before them.  "What do you want from us, O woman from the dry lands?" they asked kindly. "Do you have stories that I could take back to my people?" she asked rather shyly.

"Yes", they said, "we have many stories. But what will you give us in exchange for those stories, Manzandaba?""What would you like?" Manzandaba asked.

"What we would really like", they said, "is a picture of your home and your people. We can never go to the dry lands, but it would be so nice to see those places. Can you bring us a picture, Manzandaba?"

"Oh, yes!" she answered. "I can do that! Thank you, thank you! My husband can carve the most beautiful pictures. He will surely carve a lovely one for you". So Manzandaba climbed back onto the turtle's shell, and he took her back to the shore. She thanked him politely and asked him to return at the next full moon to collect her and the picture.

Then Manz went home and got Zenzele to carve her a beautiful picture which showed the forest and the river and all the animals and birds on the face of the Earth. The picture also had the village and all the people in it. Zenzele carved them doing all the things that they normally did. When he was through, it was almost time for the full moon to appear in the sky. Zenzele wrapped the picture carefully in woven cloth and tied it to Manz's back and then Manz climbed on to the turtle's back and away they went to the land of the Spirit People. 

When they saw the picture, the King and Queen of the Spirit People were so happy! And then they turned to Manzandaba herself. "For you and your people", they said, "we give the gift of stories". And they handed her the largest and most beautiful shell she had ever seen. "Whenever you want a story", they said, "just hold this shell to your ear and you will have your tale!" 

When Manz got back to her village, all the people clamoured, "Tell us a story, Manzandaba! Tell us a story!"

So she sat down, as everyone gathered around the fire, put the shell to her ear, and began, "Once upon a time...."

What Color is Chameleon

There was an island the King of which loved animals. He had built a zoo with many beasts and birds. But he did not have a particular creature about which he had heard much. That was the chameleon. No chameleon was available on that island.


The King announced that one who can bring him a chameleon shall receive a lump of gold. It was rarely that the people of that island went out for countries beyond the sea. However, a lump of gold was a great prize. So, three friends sailed in a boat and reached a country after a month's voyage. But chameleons were not available in that country. They walked on to reach the next country. There, they could see only a picture of the chameleon. They were informed that the creature was found in plenty in a neighboring country. 


They reached their destination at last. The three friends went in different directions, looking for a chameleon, to come together in the evening at an inn. The one who entered a forest met a hunter. "Can you get me a chameleon?" he asked.


"No problem. Wait here till i get one," said the hunter. In an hour he returned with a chameleon. The traveler put the creature in a box, which he bought from the market nearby, and returned to the inn. The other two friends had not been able to get any. But one chameleon was enough. They walked back to the seashore and sailed for their island. 


It took them another month to reach the island. From time to time they threw bits of food into the box that contained the chameleon, through a chink. 


"How happy the King would be to see the blue creature!" said one of three friends upon their landing on the island. "What do you mean by blue? I had opened the box one day and observed it. Green it was there is no doubt about it," said the second friend. 


"Both of you are wrong. It is brown. There is no mistaking about it," asserted the third friend.
They stuck on to their own points of view and argued forcefully while passing through a forest. They opened the box and let the chameleon come out fully so that they could see it in the broad daylight.


Well, the chameleon looked white! The friends were so surprised that they took their hands off it. Instantly the creature slipped into the forest never to be found again.


                                                                          - A Folk tale from France.

The Prisoner Who Escaped

Once upon a time the Sultan considered a certain nobleman of his country his enemy. When the nobleman learnt that the Sultan was trying to catch him, he escaped from his house. But the Sultan did not forget him. He set his spies to trace him. They spread into every town and village. At last the Sultan's enemy was trapped and captured. He was brought before the Sultan. The Sultan called his jailer and said, "Keep him as securely as possible. He is a cunning man who has evaded arrest for long. Now that he has been caught, he should not be able to escape. Should he escape, you'd be hanged in his place." The Sultan knew that his jailer was an able officer. No-body had ever escaped from his custody. The jaler knew that the prison house was so carefully built and so well-guarded that nobody could escape from it. Even then he took no chances. He put the prisoner in fetters. Then, inside the room itself he erected a cage around him. The fetters round the prisoner's feet were tight. The cage was locked. The room containing the cage was locked too. The entrance into the house in which the room was situated was locked and the gate of the compound wall was doubly locked.

But when the jailer came to inspect the prize catch in the morning, he saw the prisoner gone leaving the fetters lying on the floor. No lock had been broken. "I'm going to be hanged. Very well, let me prepare for that," he told himself. He went home and bathed and asked his wife to cook the best dishes for him. After he had eaten, he dressed himself in his best and sprinkled sweet scent on his raiment. Then he disclosed to his family that he was going to die. Leaving them weeping, he went over to the court and saluted to the Sultan and said, "My Lord, the prisoner has escaped."

"Has he?" thundered the Sultan, "Then you must die!"
"Yes, my Lord said the jailer. "I'm ready."

The Sultan then questioned him to find out how the prisoner escaped. There seemed to be absolutely no defect in the arrangement. "Did you hear him saying anything to anybody?" asked the Sultan.

"Yes, my  Lord. Every time our workman's hammer came down on the nail while fitting the cage he called out to God saying that He alone could save him," reported the jailer.

The Sultan kept silent for a moment. Then he told the jailer gravely, "You fool, how then do you take the responsibility for his escape upon yourself and come ready to die? Do you think that you could have detained a man who had sought God's intervention in his escape? How could you ever become a match for God?"

So saying, the Sultan waved the jailer to go away without bothering to die and sat down for praying himself.

Hansel and Gretel

Once upon a time a very poor woodcutter lived in a tiny cottage in the forest with his two children, Hansel and Gretel. His second wife often ill-treated the children and was forever nagging the woodcutter.

   "There is not enough food in the house for us all. There are too many mouths to feed! We must get rid of the two brats," she declared. And she kept on trying to persuade her husband to abandon his children in the forest.

   "Take them miles from home, so far that they can never find their way back! Maybe someone will find them and give them a home." The downcast woodcutter didn't know what to do. Hansel who, one evening, had overheard his parents' conversation, comforted Gretel.

   "Don't worry! If they do leave us in the forest, we'll find the way home," he said. And slipping out of the house he filled his pockets with little white pebbles, then went back to bed.

   All night long, the woodcutter's wife harped on and on at her husband till, at dawn, he led Hansel and Gretel away into the forest. But as they went into the depths of the trees, Hansel dropped a little white pebble here and there on the mossy green ground. At a certain point, the two children found they really were alone: the woodcutter had plucked up enough courage to desert them, had mumbled an excuse and was gone. Night fell but the woodcutter did not return. Gretel began to sob bitterly. Hansel too felt scared but he tried to hide his feelings and comfort his sister.

   "Don't cry, trust me! I swear I'll take you home even if Father doesn't come back for us!" Luckily the moon was full that night and Hansel waited till its cold light filtered through the trees.  "Now give me your hand!" he said. "We'll get home safely, you'll see!" The tiny white pebbles gleamed in the moonlight, and the children found their way home. They crept through a half open window, without wakening their parents. Cold, tired but thankful to be home again, they slipped into bed.

   Next day, when their stepmother discovered that Hansel and Gretel had returned, she went into a rage. Stifling her anger in front of the children, she locked her bedroom door, reproaching her husband for failing to carry out her orders. The weak woodcutter protested, torn as he was between shame and fear of disobeying his cruel wife. The wicked stepmother kept Hansel and Gretel under lock and key all day with nothing for supper but a sip of water and some hard bread. All night, husband and wife quarreled, and when dawn came, the woodcutter led the children out into the forest.

   Hansel, however, had not eaten his bread, and as he walked through the trees, he left a trail of crumbs behind him to mark the way. But the little boy had forgotten about the hungry birds that lived in the forest. When they saw him, they flew along behind and in no time at all, had eaten all the crumbs. Again, with a lame excuse, the woodcutter left his two children by 
themselves.

   "I've left a trail, like last time!" Hansel whispered to Gretel, consolingly. But when night fell, they saw to their horror, that all the crumbs had gone. "I'm frightened!" wept Gretel bitterly. "I'm cold and hungry and I want to go home!"

   "Don't be afraid. I'm here to look after you!" Hansel tried to encourage his sister, but he too shivered when he glimpsed frightening shadows and evil eyes around them in the darkness. All night the two children huddled together for warmth at the foot of a large tree.

   When dawn broke, they started to wander about the forest, seeking a path, but all hope soon faded. They were well and truly lost. On they walked and walked, till suddenly they came upon a strange cottage in the middle of a glade.

   "This is chocolate!" gasped Hansel as he broke a lump of plaster from the wall. "And this is icing!" exclaimed Gretel, putting another piece of wall in her mouth. Starving but delighted, the children began to eat pieces of candy broken off the cottage. "Isn't this delicious?" said Gretel, with her mouth full. She had never tasted anything so nice.

   "We'll stay here," Hansel declared, munching a bit of nougat. They were just about to try a piece of the biscuit door when it quietly swung open. "Well, well!" said an old woman, peering out with a crafty look. "And haven't you children a sweet tooth?"

   "Come in! Come in, you've nothing to fear!" went on the old woman. Unluckily for Hansel and Gretel, however, the sugar candy cottage belonged to an old witch, her trap for catching unwary victims. The two children had come to a really nasty place.

   "You're nothing but skin and bones!" said the witch, locking Hansel into a cage. I shall fatten you up and eat you! You can do the housework," she told Gretel grimly, "then I'll make a meal of you too!" As luck would have it, the witch had very bad eyesight, an when Gretel smeared butter on her glasses, she could see even less.

   "Let me feel your finger!" said the witch to Hansel every day to check if he was getting any fatter. Now, Gretel had brought her brother a chicken bone, and when the witch went to touch his finger, Hansel held out the bone.

   "You're still much too thin!" she complained. When will you become plump?" One day the witch grew tired of waiting.

   "Light the oven," she told Gretel. "We're going to have a tasty roasted boy today!" A little later, hungry and impatient, she went on: "Run and see if the oven is hot enough." Gretel returned, whimpering: "I can't tell if it is hot enough or not." Angrily, the witch screamed at the little girl: "Useless child! All right, I'll see for myself." But when the witch bent down to peer inside the oven and check the heat, Gretel gave her a tremendous push and slammed the oven door shut. The witch had come to a fit and proper end. Gretel ran to set her brother free and they made quite sure that the oven door was tightly shut behind the witch. Indeed, just to be on the safe side, they fastened it firmly with a large padlock. Then they stayed for several days to 
eat some more of the house, till they discovered amongst the witch's belongings, a huge chocolate egg. Inside lay a casket of gold coins.

   "The witch is now burnt to a cinder," said Hansel, "so we'll take this treasure with us." They filled a large basket with food and set off into the forest to search for the way home. This time, luck was with them, and on the second day, they saw their father come out of the house towards them, weeping.

   "Your stepmother is dead. Come home with me now, my dear children!" The two children hugged the woodcutter.

   "Promise you'll never ever desert us again," said Gretel, throwing her arms round her father's neck. Hansel opened the casket.

   "Look, Father! We're rich now . . . You'll never have to chop wood again."

   And they all lived happily together ever after.

One Who Became The Richest Man

Long ago there was a merchant who led his forty camels, loaded with merchandise, to a distant place.
On his way one evening he camped on the bank of a river close by a forest. At night some bandits came there by boat and took away all his merchandise.
The merchant was in grief. He dismissed his servants; for he had no money to pay them. He sat weeping amidst his forty camels. Nearby was a forest. A hermit who lived in it saw him and summoned him to come to his hermitage. The merchant told him of his misfortune and wept before him. Said the kind hermit, "Don't feel sad. You have forty camels. I will see to it that they are loaded with gold. You will become probably the richest man in the world. But will you leave twenty camels with their load for me?"
"Revered One, the value of all the stuff my forty camels were carrying would not amount to one fourth of the load of gold that only one camel can carry. Why should I not leave twenty camels and their loads with you?" said the merchant with great joy. The hermit led the merchant and his camels to the hills deep inside the forest. He stood in front of a cave and took out a small box from his clothes. It contained some ointment. He applied a little of it to his own eyes. "Is this some magic ointment?" asked the merchant. "Yes. It reveals to me all the hidden wealth," replied the hermit. Then he said, "You be here, I'll drag gold filled bags one after another. You can keep loading them on the camels." In a few minutes the hermit drew out the first bag. Unable to check his curiosity, the merchant opened it and saw that it contained pure gold bricks. He was amazed. When all the forty camels were loaded the hermit said, "Now, lead twenty camels away to your home and let me lead the other twenty to my hermitage."
The merchant led away twenty camels, but a minute later he turned back and shouted to the hermit, "Wait, Wait!" Drawing close to the hermit, he asked, "You are a hermit, What will you do with all this gold? Why not go satisfied with ten camels?"
"You want to have ten more camels with their loads, do you? Very well, take them," said the hermit without slightest bitterness. The merchant added ten more camels to his twenty and advanced on his way. But two minutes later he turned back and shouted, "Wait, hermit sir, wait." The hermit stopped. The merchant came back running to him and said, "I am afraid, I am committing a sin by letting you have this wealth. You are a hermit. To lead a simple life dedicated to God is your chosen path. Gold might lead you astray. Should you better not let me have all the gold?"
"Why not? Take the remaining ten camels too!" said the hermit. "Thanks a lot." The happy merchant was now in command of all the forty camels loaded with gold. "Wait, wait!" he shouted again at the hermit who was moving away alone. "What now?" "Its about the magic ointment. As I see, you don't have any attraction for wealth. What will you do with that ointment? Please pass that on to me. I can make proper use of it," said the merchant. "Don't ask for it, my boy, for it will not work with you the way it works with me," said the hermit gravely. "Don't try to be fool me, hermit, sir, please hand over the ointment. I will never forget your kindness." "Why do you need it? The wealth you have got is more than what any king possesses. Your descendants can live on it for generations. I must tell you that the ointment will prove dangerous to you!"
"O Sir, don't bluff me! Please give me the thing!" The merchant spread his arms obstructing the hermit's passage. "You will regret it, my boy!" said the hermit. "Pass it on to me, sir!" The hermit threw the small container at the merchant. "Thanks," said the merchant. Without any loss of time, he applied the ointment to his eyes -- and he grew stone blind. "Hermit!" he shouted. "Take back your ointment and please do something to restore my vision!" There was no response. "Please take away ten camels - or twenty - or all of them if you please, but help me get back my vision!" the merchant screamed. "I have no power to help you!" The hermit's voice was heard from distance.
"What can I do with all the gold if I am blind?" There was no answer to his question. Days later some other merchants, passing by the forest, took pity on him and guided him to the nearest town. He  used to narrate his story to others while living as a beggar. Nobody believed him, for nobody saw the camels or the gold! And the merchant could not say what happened to them.