Once upon a time, or maybe not, there lived an old man and an old woman. The poor people grieved that they had no children.
One day an old man was plowing the soil in his field. At noon the old woman gathered to bring him food. She put a corn cake and a jug of sour milk in the khurjin and went into the field. She went outside the outskirts and suddenly heard a squeaky voice:
- Mother, let me carry the khurjin!
- Who are you, little one, where are you?
- I’m on earth, your son!
The old woman bent down and saw a tiny boy standing on the ground, reaching out to the khurjin with his hands.
- Okay, try to carry it, my Tseroden! - the old woman laughed. She gave him a khurjin and helped him throw it over his shoulder. Is it possible?
Tserodene is such a burden! Khurjin crushed the baby, almost strangled him. The old woman took her son in her arms.
They came to the field. Tseroden saw the plow and demanded:
- Let me lead the bull, father! Put me on the yoke!
- Where are you going, little one! - the old man is surprised. “If you don’t sit on the yoke, you’ll fall and the bull will trample you.”
- And I want to lead the bull, I want to lead! - Tseroden became stubborn. The old man sat his little son on the yoke. Tseroden could not resist, fell and got lost in the loose earth.
- Our Tseroden is dead! - the old people are grieving; they cannot find the baby.
Tserodena—translated as “the size of a finger.”
Tseroden did not die, was not lost in the ground. Luckily for him, the wind whipped up the clouds, rolled iron balls across the sky - thunder roared and rain poured down! The ground was washed away by water, and Tseroden climbed out of the furrow.
The boy got wet in the rain and was chilled. He climbed into the vineyard, lit a fire under the vines and sat down to warm himself. He sits warming himself, sings a song and straightens the firebrands.
At this very time, a hungry wolf ran past. He noticed Tseroden and bared his teeth with joy - at least there was food for one bite!
- I'll eat you! - says the wolf.
“But you won’t eat it!” answers Tseroden.
The wolf opened its mouth, grabbed the boy, and Ceroden got stuck in the wolf’s broken tooth.
He sits there and picks it with a sharp stick. The wolf howled in pain.
- Get out! - the wolf screams.
- If I don’t get out, you’ll swallow it!
- I’m telling you, I won’t swallow it!
Tseroden doesn’t believe it and picks at the fragments with a stick.
The wolf cannot endure pain. He swore that he would not eat the boy.
“Come out, Tseroden, I’ll give you a lamb with a golden fleece,” the wolf begs.
The wolf opened his mouth and the boy jumped out to the ground. The wolf brought a lamb with a golden fleece to Tseroden and ran away. Tseroden drove the sheep to the village. They are walking - the sheep is nibbling the grass, Tseroden is playing on a straw pipe. And so they reached home. The old people were happy about the boy - even though he was small, he was still a son!
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru