HÜSEYİN ULAŞ, ŞERİF REMZİ ORTAOKULU
The Cunning Wolf
Once upon a time, in a faraway land — in China, to be exact — when camels were town criers and fleas were barbers, and I was rocking my great-grandmother’s cradle, there was a mountain.
But what a mountain it was! Those who saw it couldn’t tell if it was a mountain or a vineyard. Those who looked at its peak said it was a mountain; those who looked at its slopes said it was a vineyard.
At the very top of this mountain, a wolf appeared.
And what a wolf it was! Fierce-eyed, thick-necked, and as harmful as could be.
At night, the wolf would descend to the plains and raid the village, devouring goats, horses, donkeys — whatever it could find.
It became the terror of the village.
The villagers realized they couldn't live like this any longer, so they grabbed their weapons and set off towards the mighty mountain.
They traveled far and wide and finally reached the mountain, searching it from seven directions.
They didn’t sleep, didn’t rest, and for seven days and nights they tracked the wolf.
At last, they spotted him. But they couldn't capture him then.
Instead, they set seven traps across the mountain.
Finally, they managed to catch the cunning wolf and brought him to the village hall.
Now, the village hall was a special place where the law was based on tradition and customs — and punishment often meant a beating.
The wolf, knowing this, was terrified.
But interestingly, the villagers were also scared of the wolf.
Instead of beating him, they decided to question him.
“Hey, wolf,” they said, “why are you eating our animals? Don’t you feel sorry for the poor villagers?”
At first, the wolf stayed silent, but then he answered:
“I am a wolf. I, too, have a life to sustain.
Your food is bread, but mine is meat.
If I don’t eat your animals, what shall I eat?
If you want to save your livestock, bring me one kilo of meat every day.
Then I promise not to harm your animals.”
The villagers, having no better option, agreed.
They released the wolf back to the mountain and even built him a shelter.
They organized themselves in turns, and every day someone brought meat to feed the wolf.
Days turned into weeks.
Time passed, and soon the village’s livestock was nearly gone.
The villagers saw they couldn’t keep up any longer and stopped bringing meat.
The wolf waited patiently at first, one day, then two.
But when no one came, his hunger grew unbearable.
His eyes darkened with anger and vengeance.
Finally, he descended slowly to the plains.
There, he saw a donkey and its foal grazing.
The wolf ate a kilo from the donkey and half a kilo from the foal, then returned to his den.
That evening, the donkey and its foal returned to the village crying loudly, shaking the mountains with their wails.
The owner’s heart broke at the sight.
He ran to the village hall and told the others what had happened.
The villagers gathered once more, caught the wolf again, and brought him back to the hall.
“Well,” they said, “tell us:
Why did you eat the donkey and the foal?”
The wolf lifted his head and replied:
“If you don't bring me meat, I’ll even eat your calves!”
“But,” the villagers said,
“There are hardly any animals left in the village.
We can't plow the fields or herd anymore.
What will we do now?”
The wolf simply said:
“I don’t care.
If necessary, I’ll even eat you!”
Upon hearing this, the villagers grew terrified.
Without saying another word, without even daring to glance sideways at the wolf, they quietly left the hall one by one.
The wolf laughed heartily.
It turns out, he had been scared too.
His trick was just a way to escape.
He left the hall, ran off to unknown lands, and was never seen again.
Nor did he ever return to eat the villagers’ animals.
And so they lived happily ever after —
may good fortune come to all those still waiting!
Comments
Post a Comment