In a small hut near the vast garden of a rich man, a poor woodcutter once lived with his wife. From this garden, a large branch of a pear tree, covered with large fruits, hung into the yard of an old woodcutter.
A rich man once took pity on his poor neighbors and said:
- Okay, if a few pears fall from my tree into their yard, let them pick it up, so be it.
The eternally hungry old men looked with lust at the ripening pears and said:
- Oh God, send the wind, let it blow stronger, let it shake more ripe pears for us.
But, alas, the wind passed them by, and the old woman, grumbling displeasedly, fed her husband only stale bread. And I had to work harder than before. The old man was completely exhausted.
There is a saying that even a worm resists.
So, one day the old man could not stand it and declared that he would no longer go into the forest for firewood unless his wife prepared khichri for him.
[Khichri is a porridge made from rice and lentils or other legumes.]
“Yes, nothing can be done,” the old woman sighed, “I’ll run to the neighbors, ask for some rice and butter, I have lentils, and I’ll cook khichri.” Because my old man was completely emaciated.
The old woman began to cook khichri, but before feeding her husband, she ordered him to go into the forest and bring another bundle of firewood.
The old man went into the forest, began to collect branches, and all he could think about was how he could quickly return home, where the khichri was waiting for him. As soon as he put the bundle on his back, a bear poked its black nose out of the bushes and said:
“Tell me, old man, what are you going to do with this bundle?”
“Yes, the old woman sent me to get firewood,” answered the woodcutter and, smacking his lips deliciously, added: “She prepared the most delicious khichri at home, but she said that she would give me food only when I brought her this bundle of firewood.” Ah, if you knew what kind of khichri this is, you would drool just from its smell!
These words immediately made the bear's mouth water. Like all bears, he loved to eat.
“Tell me, if I bring her a bundle of firewood, will she give me khichri?”
“Hmm... If the bundle is big, then maybe it will,” the old man answered hesitantly.
- And if I bring her a fagot of sires for ten, then what? - asked the bear.
[Sir is a unit of weight equal to 933.1 g in Pakistan]
“No, that won’t be enough,” the old man admitted, thinking that his wife would never give the bear khichri. “You know that this is an excellent meal made from rice, butter and choice lentils.” The wife will probably require a lot of firewood.
- Well, what if there are twenty sires?
“No, that won’t be enough either, thirty sires, maybe they’ll suit her.”
The bear smacked his lips, his eyes sparkled, and he growled:
- Okay, agreed. Go home and tell your wife to keep the khichri warm, I will come to you soon.
The woodcutter hurried home to tell his wife what a lucrative deal he had made with the bear: a large bundle of firewood for a small fraction of khichri.
“Well, that’s not bad,” said the old woman, “you made a good deal.” But, like any grumpy wife, she did not want to show that she was very pleased, and asked: “Did you find out from the bear how much khichri he wants?” After all, he can swallow all the porridge before we have time to eat at least one spoon.
“Yes,” thought the woodcutter, “I guess I made a mistake here. My wife is right, I should have agreed with the bear about his share.”
“You know what,” the old man hurried, “let’s eat ourselves first, otherwise the bear will come and eat everything.”
They placed a pot of khichri in front of them, and were so carried away by the food that they could only hear noises behind their ears.
“We shouldn’t forget about the bear, we need to leave him some,” the old man recalled from time to time.
“Yes, yes,” his wife echoed with her mouth full, “we shouldn’t forget about his share.”
Before they had time to look around, the pot was empty.
- What are we going to do now? - the old man asked in fear. - After all, the bear is about to appear.
“I don’t know, I don’t know, it’s all your fault, you shouldn’t have eaten so much,” his wife began to reproach him.
“Yes, you’re probably right,” the old man babbled. “But you’ve got quite an appetite.” You ate more than half the pot yourself.
- Nothing like that! - the old woman was indignant. — Everyone knows that men eat more than women.
“No woman behaves as rudely as you,” the old man got angry. - Whatever you say, the job is done. Now it’s too late to argue, there’s still not a drop of khichri left. The bear is about to get angry!
“Well, okay,” muttered the old woman. - But how nice it would be if he still brought firewood. - And, after thinking, she added: - Now listen to what I came up with. Let's lock the house, leave the khichri pot on the fireplace, and hide in the attic. The bear will come, see the pot and think that we have gone somewhere. He will throw down the firewood, go up to the pot, see that it is empty, and, of course, roar with rage. But he won’t see us, he will roar and go home. But he won’t take the wood back, right?
The old man shook his head, amazed at his wife's cunning, and agreed with her plan. They closed the doors of their hut and hid in the attic.
Anticipating the promised khichri, the bear worked hard. After all, it was not so easy to break thirty sires of wood. It took him a lot of time. “Or maybe the old people will say that I didn’t bring enough firewood,” the bear doubted.
In the end, he collected a large bundle of firewood and dragged it to the old people. He looks, there is a pot on the fireplace, but the owners are not there. He dumped the wood and hurried to the pot, and lo and behold, it was empty. Oh, how angry the bear was! Even his nostrils trembled with anger. There was not a grain of rice, not a single lentil, or a trace of oil in the pot. All that was left was the smell of khichri.
The bear's eyes were bloodshot. Roaring with rage, he reared up, then tumbled around like mad.
“Deceivers,” he roared, “wait, I’ll show you!” You won’t get a single piece of wood from me, I’ll take it all back.
But as the cunning old woman foresaw, the bear was so tired that he could not even lift his bundle.
- Now I’ll take it out on these cunning people! - he barked. “Since I didn’t manage to try khichri, then at least the smell of it will be with me.” I'll take this pot with me.
And, grabbing the pot, the bear left the yard. He looks and sees wonderful golden pears hanging over the fence. The bear's mouth instantly filled with saliva - because he was so hungry.
In one jump he found himself on the fence, stood on his hind legs and, grabbing the largest pear, swallowed it in an instant. Oh, what delicious pears they were!
And then it suddenly dawned on him: “Why don’t I take some pears with me? After all, all my relatives can be treated to them.” And let's collect ripe pears in the khichri pot. What to do with green pears? Don't leave them on the tree! The bear began to eat them too, although they were hard and green.
The old man and the old woman sat quietly in the attic and watched the bear through a crack. But the old woman had a cold and could barely restrain herself from sneezing.
The bear picked up a full pot of ripe pears and was just about to get off the fence when the old woman could not resist and sneezed loudly: “Ap-chhi!”
The bear recoiled in fear, thinking that someone had fired a gun at him, dropped the pot of pears and ran away, so much so that only his heels sparkled.
This is how the woodcutter and his wife got not only khichri, but a lot of ripe pears and a large bundle of firewood. And the poor bear only gets stomach pains from green pears.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru