The bear has become old. And for the first time the fox’s fur turned silver and its fluffy tail grew. So the fox went to the wolf:
- Oh, uncle wolf, what grief, what trouble! Our zaisan bear is dying. His golden skin has faded. The sharp teeth have rotted. There is no strength in the paws.
- Oooh! - howled the wolf. - Who will be the zaisan now?
“I think, uncle,” the fox squealed, “whoever is younger, who is prettier than everyone else, should be a zaisan.” And she scratches the fur with her paw and preens herself with her tongue.
- OK! - said the wolf. - Gather all the animals for a council.
Where nine rivers united, at the foot of nine mountains, above a rapid spring, stood a shaggy black cedar. All the animals came here for advice. They show off their fur coats and try out their teeth. They can’t decide who is the most beautiful of all.
- Everyone is good in their own way! - the old bear purred. - Why are you making noise? I want to sleep. Let's get out!
The animals rose and began to saddle their horses. They were about to go home, but then a deer appeared high on the mountain. The raised paws of the animals did not have time to fall, and the deer was already standing under the cedar tree. His smooth fur did not sweat from running fast. Thin ribs didn't fit. Big eyes shine calmly. He scratches his brown lip with his pink tongue. Teeth whiten, laugh. All the animals saw the thin muzzle of the deer. His ears are like flower petals. The horns are like velvet stems. The old bear slowly stood up, sneezed, hid his eyes from the sun with his black paw, opened his mouth, but did not have time to say anything, because the fox ran forward and barked:
-Are you living well, noble deer? Apparently your slender legs have weakened? Wide breasts are probably sick? The squirrels were the first to come to this cedar; the bow-legged wolverine has been here for a long time. Only you, little bastard, are so late.
Out of shame, the deer lowered his branched head low. Then he picked her up. His shaggy chest swayed, and his voice rang out like a reed pipe:
- Honorable fox! Squirrels live on this cedar, a wolverine slept on a nearby tree, and I passed nine ridges and swam ninety-nine rivers.
The old bear grinned, grabbed the red fox with his shaggy paw and threw it over eight mountains.
“This fox,” said the bear, “wants to live in my village, and the bow-legged wolverine also wants to be a beauty.” Please, noble deer, take the place of honor.
Maral turned his head. His horns in the rays of the sun seemed to become transparent, as if filled with oil. And the fox is already here:
- Oh-ha-ha! Maral received a great rank. It's quite embarrassing. It’s beautiful now, but look at it in the spring! The head is hornless, polled, the neck is thin, the fur hangs in clumps, it walks crouched, and staggers from the wind.
The brown deer did not find words. Burning tears fell from his black eyes. These tears burned the cheeks to the bone, and the bones bent.
In memory of that bitter insult, the descendants of the deer have two deep depressions darkening under their moist eyes.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru