There lived a peasant named Hajbahu. He had a very angry wife. For whole days she tormented her husband as best she could.
One day he got ready and went to his wife’s relatives. On the way, he sang loudly, because his wife’s relatives were good people and always greeted him with joy.
Hajbahu had blood enemies.
One of his enemies, armed with a gun, lay in wait for Hajbakha. And he walked blithely and sang, not suspecting what fate awaited him. The enemy ambushed, seeing that Hajbahu was unarmed, was surprised, called out to him and said:
“You go and sing at the top of your lungs, but you haven’t even taken a dagger.” You are now in my power!
“Well,” answered Hajbahu. “Just let me say goodbye to my relatives, they are kind people, and on the way back you can deal with me.”
The enemy thought, thought and said:
- Okay, now I’m letting you go, let’s see in what mood you will return.
After some time, having been a guest, Hajbahu walked along the same road, also singing merrily.
“You are wrong to think that I will spare you again,” his enemy shouted to Hajbakh, emerging from the ambush.
“I don’t count on your mercy, that’s why I sing - anyway, I would have to return home, where my wife would again begin to gnaw at me, poisoning my days and nights.”
The enemy thought about the words of the ill-fated husband and finally decided that it was better to take revenge on Hajbah if he was left alive to be torn to pieces by his evil wife...
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru