In the very north of Japan, on the island of Hokkaido, in the village of Inagi, there lived a peasant Gombei. He had neither father, nor mother, nor wife, nor children. And he had no land. He lived alone on the very edge of the village, in a small hut, and made his living by hunting wild ducks.
Every day Gombei rose before dawn, went to a large lake not far from the village, set up willow snares and stood by the water for a long, long time, lying in wait for the ducks. In a day he managed to catch sometimes three and sometimes two ducks. And it happened that only one duck, or even none at all, fell into his snare.
One day in early spring, Gombey brought home only one duck for three days in a row. On the third evening, returning from hunting, he began to think:
"I set three snares every day, sit by the lake from dawn to dusk, and catch only one duck a day. And tomorrow I will have to get up at dawn again, and then freeze on the shore all day. But what if I set a hundred snares on the lake? Then I would catch so many ducks at once that I could sit at home and warm myself by the stove for a whole month."
The next morning, Gombey did not go anywhere, but sat down to weave silks from willow twigs. He wove a hundred snares, placed them on the lake, and went to bed for the night. All night he had the same dream: as if ducks were flying from all over the world and landing right in his snare. Gombey woke up in the middle of the night, quickly got dressed and ran to the lake. He comes running to the shore, but there are no ducks on the lake. The snares have remained the same since the evening. All snares are tied with rope, and the end of the rope is wrapped around a tree.
Gombey looked at the snare and hid on the shore near a tree. Little by little it began to get light. And suddenly, from somewhere, many, many ducks actually flew in. They circled the whole flock over the lake, and then one duck sat on the water, followed by another, a third, a fourth. And as soon as the duck landed on the water, it fell straight into Gombei’s snare.
Soon there was a duck in every snare. Only one snare was still empty, and the last duck was flying over the lake. Then Gombei untied the end of the rope from the tree and began to slowly wind it around his hand. He felt sorry for pulling out the snares while at least one snare remained empty.
“I just need to catch one more duck and I’ll have a hundred. Then I’ll pull out the snare.”
Meanwhile, it was already dawn and the sun was rising. When it appeared over the ridge of the mountains, its bright rays fell on the lake, and the water in the lake sparkled and sparkled. The ducks on the water perked up, flapping their wings, and all ninety-nine, with snares on their legs, rose above the lake. Gombei pulled the rope tightly. But the ducks were stronger than him - there were ninety-nine of them. They rose higher and higher, and the rope went with them. It was no longer Gombei who pulled the rope, but the rope that pulled Gombei. And so he separated from the ground and rose into the air. The higher the ducks flew, the higher Gombei rose. He was hanging at the end of the rope and holding onto it tightly with both hands. The lake remained far below. Gombei only squinted his eyes - he was afraid to look down. And the ducks flew higher and further, flew over the lake, over the village, over the forest, soared over the mountain. And suddenly the rope on which Gombei was hanging broke. The ducks flew away, and Gombei hung in the air. His heart froze with fear.
Here Gombei would have fallen, but he did not fall. Gombei was surprised and carefully opened his eyes. So what? He saw that he was still flying through the air. The wind caught him. A strong wind carried Gombei high above the earth, above forests, above mountains, above valleys, above the sea, far, far to the south. Gombei flew for a day, then another flew, and a third flew. On the third day, the wind died down a little, and Gombei began to slowly, slowly descend to the ground. He looks, and below him there are roofs of houses and a field all around. Peasants sow barley in the field. It was in the middle of the field that Gombey landed. Then the peasants stopped working and ran to him from all sides. Gombei stamped his feet, waved his arms—he couldn’t feel his arms or legs from the long flight—and then politely greeted the peasants and asked:
-What kind of village is this? Where did I end up? “This is the village of Akano,” answered the peasants. “I have never heard of such a village.” Are you Japanese yourself? - Of course, we are Japanese! And you must be from afar, since you don’t know the village of Akano? - I’m from the island of Hokkaido, from the very north of Japan. - And the village of Akano is on the island of Kyushu, in the very south of Japan. How did you get to us and why did you fall from the sky?
Then Gombei told the peasants how he was lifted into the air by ducks, and then carried by the wind for three days.
“Now you won’t be able to get home,” the peasants said after listening to Gombei’s story. “To do this, one would have to cross many straits and seas and walk all of Japan from south to north. You won't be able to do this. Better stay with us. Settle in our village, help us with our work, and we will feed you.
Gombey thought for a moment and agreed. “I have no one and nothing left in my homeland.” Why shouldn't I live with you?
So Gombey remained to live on the island of Kyushu, in the village of Akano. He settled with the peasants, helped them with their work, sowed barley with them, and pulled out weeds. Time passed quickly, spring ended, and then summer. The barley has grown and ripened, the time has come for the harvest.
One day, early in the morning, the peasants went into the field with sickles and began to harvest. Gombei also set to work diligently. Suddenly he came across a very thick, tall ear. Gombei bent it to the ground and was about to cut it off with a sickle, when suddenly the ear of grain recoiled back and hit Gombei with such force that it threw him into the air. But Gombei did not fall to the ground. The wind picked him up again and lifted him high above the field.
Gombei was not surprised. He immediately understood what was happening. “This is probably the same wind that brought me to Kyushu!” Now the wind is coming back and, of course, will carry me home.
This time, Gombei made himself more comfortable in the air so that his arms and legs would not become numb again.
And the wind carried Gombei high above the earth: over forests, over mountains, over valleys, over the sea, far, far to the north. Gombei rushed through the air all day, but in the evening the wind died down, and Gombei slowly, slowly sank to the ground.
“I only flew for a day today, but last time I flew for three days. That means I haven’t arrived in Hokkaido yet,” thought Gombei.
He looked around. Indeed, the place was unfamiliar. All around is a desert plain. Not to mention housing - not even a tree or bush was visible in the distance.
Gombei became scared. In addition, the sun had already set and it was getting dark, and dark clouds were approaching from all sides.
"It's going to rain soon. Where can I hide?" - thought Gombei. And he quickly walked forward, hoping to reach some kind of housing.
Suddenly he came across a large white mushroom. “These are the amazing mushrooms that grow in this country!” - thought Gombei. But, bending down, he saw that it was not a mushroom at all, but a wide peasant hat woven from rice straw.
“That’s good!” Gombey rejoiced. “In such a hat, I won’t get wet even in the rain!”
He picked up his hat and wanted to put it on his head. But the hat was too small for him. Gombey pulled it for a long time over the wide brim and finally put it on his head. And so that she wouldn’t fly away, he tied ribbons under her chin and walked on.
Gombei had not walked even a hundred steps when it really began to rain. The whole sky was covered with clouds. The wind was tearing my hat off my head. But the hat sat tightly on Gombei’s head, and the ribbons were tied tightly.
The wind tore at the hat for a long time and finally lifted it into the air along with Gombei, so high that Gombei no longer saw the ground below him - no forests, no mountains, no sea - but saw only the clouds under his feet.
For the first time in his life, Gombei saw clouds so close. Some clouds were curly and others were smooth, some were thick and fluffy, while others were flattened and thin.
So he flew above the clouds one day, then another. And on the third day the wind died down, and Gombei began to fall to the ground.
“Where will I go now?” - thought Gombei. He looked down and saw that he was descending into a large village. In the middle of the village stood a tall five-story pagoda. Before Gombei had time to get a good look at her, he found himself on her very tower and grabbed the spire of the pagoda with his hands. Standing so high was scarier than flying.
Gombei looked around and looked for steps, but there were no stairs. Then Gombei shouted loudly at the top of his voice:
- Help! Help! People ran out of all the houses in response to the scream. The whole village came running to the pagoda. At first no one could understand where the voice was coming from. Suddenly one boy shouted:
“There’s a man on the pagoda!” Then everyone crowded around the pagoda and raised their heads up. From below, Gombei seemed so tiny that it was difficult to even see it. And he looked down and shouted:
- Help! Help! And suddenly his head began to spin. Gombey swayed, let go of the spire and fell from the pagoda directly onto the peasants crowded below. The peasants gasped, rushed to the sides and banged their foreheads against each other so much that sparks fell from everyone’s eyes. The sparks set everything on fire. And the peasants burned. And the pagoda burned down. And Gombei burned down. And the whole fairy tale also burned down.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru