There is no guarantee that this story is true. However, judge for yourself: if someone goes to church every Sunday, will he lie to the first person he meets on Saturday?
It was this neat churchgoer who told this story, he swore that everything in it was the holy truth and that it happened just when he was fishing in a Virginia river under the strange name of the Cow Pasture. At that time, there were still few cities and settlements along the banks of this river; the entire area was covered with forests and swamps.
“So,” he said, “it was a warm, fine morning, and I went to the river to fish for fish.”
So we went together - me and my eldest daughter Carol, who was a great hunter of fishing, almost like me. I carried the fishing rods, and Carol carried the basket she had woven from willow with her own hands. And that basket was full of all sorts of food, and also a jug of the most transparent golden dandelion wine, which her mother had prepared last spring. Every spring she made dandelion wine, and here's my honest noble, no one knew how to make it better than her in all of our Virginia.
We didn’t worry about live bait, because I could catch a worm or two anywhere, or even a frog. There are a dime a dozen of them everywhere.
So we went. I thought about politics and all such unnecessary things until we reached the river. We chose a place and sat down. That's when I remembered the bait.
“Carol,” I say, “we need some live bait now!”
We sat down so comfortably, like rabbits under a bush, and I was so reluctant to get up. I’m looking around to see if I can dig something nearby, when suddenly I notice an old moccasin snake. It lies nearby, and in its mouth there is such a fat frog, and it is about to swallow it.
“Oh, it was not! That the snake will swallow it, that I will take it with live bait, everything is the same for it,” I thought.
So, I got up, found a stick like a slingshot, pressed the snake to the ground and pulled the frog out of its mouth for our live bait.
Then he threw away the stick, and the old moccasin lady looked at me with such reproach that I felt as if I was guilty before her. Her mouth was still agape, but her eyes were really begging me for something.
Yes, you know, I am a God-fearing and compassionate person, I cannot see when a living creature suffers. Naturally, I couldn’t give her the frog, because I needed it myself. And next to it stood a jug of dandelion wine, which Carol pulled out of the basket so that it wouldn’t fall or spill. And without thinking twice, I splashed
took a sip of clear dandelion juice straight down the throat of the old moccasin.
Ay-ay-ay, you should look at her! Don't try to convince me that snakes can't smile, I give you my word, this old rascal broke out into the happiest and most grateful smile I've ever seen in our glorious state of Virginia!
I no longer felt guilty, since the snake now looked happy, and sat down to fish. There were a lot of fish, and Carol and I soon caught a whole mountain of them. She lay right on the grass, and Carol kept talking, without closing her mouth, she inherited this from her mother, and if she starts talking, it’s as if a river is babbling. And it murmurs, and it murmurs...
I listen to her with half an ear and suddenly I feel someone lightly pushing me on the leg. I quickly turn around, and this moccasin snake is poking me with its tail. She raised her head, and there was a frog in her mouth again!
Oh, you slanting rain! Take my hat off, drive me into the attic and remove the ladder, if I misunderstood.
Therefore, the snake says to me in its snake language: “You see, master, I brought you another frog, so give me, for God’s sake, another sip of this dandelion syrup!”
Well, where should I go? I’m a compassionate person, you know, and so I took the frog from her mouth and poured her a sip of dandelion wine into it. But then I made it clear to this moccasin that I no longer needed frogs, and that I really needed dandelion wine to maintain my strength.
The snake looked at me so sadly, but crawled away and didn’t say anything.
Carol and I caught a lot then and went home with a basket full of fish.
Since then, I never go fishing without a jug of good dandelion wine, and therefore I don’t have to worry about bait, you know.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru