Translation:Collection of Slavic Folk Tales/XVIII
XVIII
THE FOOLISH WOLF
(UKRAINIAN TALE)
There was once a poor wolf; he couldn't catch anything; he was starving. He went to find God and ask for food. He arrived at God's place, so wretched, so wretched, you couldn't be more so.
"Merciful Lord God! Give me something to eat, or I'll die of hunger."
"What do you want to eat?"
"Whatever you please."
"Good, go over there to the meadow; the priest's mare is grazing; eat her."
The wolf went off. Hop! hop! You should have seen how he ran.
"Hello, mare! God told me to eat you."
"You eat me? Who are you?"
"The wolf."
"You're lying. You're just a dog."
"No, a wolf."
"A wolf, fine. Well, which end will you start with?"
"The head."
"No way, my little wolf. If you want to eat me, start with the tail; while you eat my rump, I'll keep grazing; it'll fatten me up."
"Very well," said the wolf.
And he set about attacking the tail; the mare gave him a kick that smashed his snout and made him see stars. You should have seen the mare, kicking right and left, standing on her front legs.
The wolf went to sit in a corner.
"Fool, idiot that I am, why didn't I grab her by the throat?"
He went back to find God.
"Merciful Lord, give me something to put in my mouth, or I'll die of hunger."
"What, you didn't get enough from the mare?"
"Some deal, trying to skin her alive, she nearly broke my jaws."
Then God said: "Go to the valley. A big ram is grazing there; eat him."
The wolf went off. The ram was indeed grazing in the valley.
"Hello, ram, God told me to eat you."
"Eat me! Who are you?"
"A wolf."
"You're lying: you're a dog; but if you're a wolf, how will you eat me?"
"How! I'll start with the head."
"Hey, wolf my friend. Listen, if you want to eat me, sit up there on the slope; open your mouth, I'll jump in myself."
The wolf sat on the slope, opened a big mouth, and waited.
The ram charged, rammed its horns into his nose, and mister wolf tumbled down the slope.
He picked himself up, sat down, and began to think.
"Ah! fool, ah! idiot that I am! Who ever saw live meat jump into a wolf's mouth?"
He went back to find God.
"Lord God! Lord God! Give me something to eat."
"Fool. What to do with you? Look! Over there on the road, a man dropped some bacon. It's yours; it won't escape you."
The wolf ran and found the bacon. He sat and thought.
"Eat the bacon; fine, but it's salty: I'm already thirsty. Let's go drink first…"
While he searched for a stream, the man realized he'd lost his bacon, came back, and picked it up. The wolf arrived; no bacon. He sat and began to cry.
"Ah! fool, ah! idiot that I am, why the devil go drink before eating?"
He returned to God.
"You're annoying me, finally," said the Lord, "with your endless appetite. Look, go over there, near the village. There's a pig grazing, eat it."
The wolf went off.
"Hello, pig; God told me to eat you."
"Who are you to eat me?"
"A wolf."
"You're lying; you're a dog."
"No, a wolf."
"How can a wolf have nothing to eat?"
"Nothing at all."
"Well, listen! Sit on me, I'll take you to the village; they're electing officials right now, maybe they'll choose you."
"Perfect; take me."
He sat on the pig; they reached the village; the pig grunted; the wolf got scared.
"Why are you yelling like that?"
"I'm calling the assembly for your election."
The peasants came out of the cottage, some with flails, some with picks, some with shovels… They fell on the wolf; he barely escaped.
He went straight to God and started his refrain again:
"Merciful Lord…"
"Go over there," said the Lord; "a tailor is passing on the road, attack him and eat him."
He went off; he could barely stand on his legs. He reached the main road.
"Hey! Hello, man."
"Hello."
"God told me to eat you."
"Who are you to eat me?"
"A wolf."
"You're lying; you're a dog. You're too small for a wolf. Let me measure you."
He grabbed the wolf's tail, wrapped it around his hand, pulled… the wolf was out of breath. The tailor yanked off the tail.
"One arshin[1] long," he said.
Mad with pain, the wolf fled.
"This time I won't go back to God. I'll go find my fellow wolves."
He told them his misadventures, and the wolves ran after the tailor. What to do? The tailor saw a tree, climbed it. The wolves, furious, surrounded the tree, gnashing their teeth. "Brothers," said the fool, "do you know what we'll do? I'll stand against the tree; you climb on me one after another, making a ladder; we'll get that scoundrel."
They climbed one on top of the other.
"Ah! ah!" shouted the highest, "cursed tailor, we're going to eat you."
"Little wolves, my friends, have pity on me! Don't eat me!"
"No, no: come down."
"One moment, let me at least take one last pinch of snuff."
He took his pinch, he sneezed, atchi! atchi!
The fool at the bottom thought he said arshin, arshin, that he was going to measure the wolves! He collapsed in terror… All the wolves tumbled down. He fled; they ran after him, tore him to pieces. Meanwhile, the tailor climbed down from the tree and went home, thanking God for saving him from the wolf's jaws.
- ↑ Russian measure, about 70 centimeters.