Once upon a time, they say, there lived two brothers, and both had nothing but rags. For many years they worked to save a little, but still remained poor. And then one day the younger one says to the older one:
“We shouldn’t be exhausted, we won’t succeed anyway, it’s better for us to die.”
They came to a high rock, climbed to the top and rushed down. But one of Zanahari picked them up and lowered them at the foot. Several times they threw themselves down without causing the slightest harm to themselves, and finally realized that it was Zanahari who was opposing their plan. Then the younger one again says to the older one:
“No matter how hard we tried to save something, we still remained poor; no matter how hard we try to kill ourselves, we are still alive. Let's go to Mpsikidi and ask him what we should do.
They went to Mpsikidi and asked him. And this is what he told them:
- Kill the black chicken and take it to the top of the hill, then call Zanahari, who saved you.
The brothers did just that. The one who came first was not the same Zanahari who saved them; he passed by and didn't eat the chicken. Then Zanahari came and helped them; he ate chicken and said:
- It was I who saved your life. But look: I’m wearing nothing but rags, I can’t give you anything. It turns out that you tried in vain; you will never get rich.
The brothers were upset and again decided to kill themselves. They stood on the edge of the abyss and rushed down, but remained safe and sound. Zanahari called them and said:
-You want to kill yourself because of wealth! Well, okay, let's agree this way: I will make you rich, you will have everything you want, but in eight years I will kill you.
The older brother did not agree, but the younger brother happily accepted the agreement.
“From now on, I will fulfill all your wishes,” Zanahari told him, “but in due time I will cut off your head.”
- Come when the time comes. “I’ll wait for you,” the younger one answered, “you can do whatever you want with me.”
Eight years have passed. The younger brother became so rich that no matter how hard he tried, he could not spend everything he had. Meanwhile, the appointed day was approaching. Zanahari sent to warn him and soon appeared to carry out his will. Descending to earth, he gathered people and told them:
- Here, my subjects, is what I want to tell you. This man made a promise to allow himself to be killed in eight years. Once he was poor, walked in rags, and I told him:
“I will make you rich, but in eight years I will cut off your head.” He agreed. Now the time has come. That's why I brought you together.
Everyone agreed that Zanahari had the right to kill him, since they agreed so. Zanahari took out his sword and prepared to strike the man. But his son held his hand.
“Why don’t you let me kill this man?” - Zanahari asked his son.
- If you need a victim, kill the elder. He is a slacker, he likes rags, he himself did not want to become rich.
Then the younger brother was spared, but the older brother, who had nothing, was killed. After his death, all the property of the younger brother was divided into three equal parts and one part was given to the children of the elder. Since then, the Tsimikheti have a saying: “Zanahari does not like the poor.”
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru