It was a long time ago. There lived an old man in a village. He walked through the mountains, collected brushwood and sold it at the market.
One day he found a red cap in the forest. The old man was delighted with the find: although it was a holey cap, he didn’t have anything like that.
“Is he in time for me?” - thought the old man and put it on his head. So what? Before that, he had heard only the chirping and cries of birds, and then suddenly the whole forest was filled with disputes and conversations.
- Give me back my worm! Give me back my worm!
- Fuck, fuck, I won’t give it up! Let's cut it in half.
“The owl saw me and shouted: “Uh-huh!”
- What are you doing?
- I can’t say a word. That's how I was saved.
- My children, children, little doves, let me give you some love.
On that branch they are quarreling, but on this one there is a friendly conversation. And suddenly:
- R-robbery! Robbery! Stop the thief! Car-r! Car-r!
The old man even jumped to the side in fright! A branch knocked the cap off his head, and the speech immediately died down, and the incomprehensible bird chirping began again. The old man picked up his cap from the ground, put it on his head, and again conversations were heard both above, on the branches, and below, in the bushes. I took off the cap - again the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves. Put on the cap - again reasonable speeches.
“That's it! — the old man guessed. “I found not an ordinary cap, but a magical one: people call it the “Sensitive Ears” cap.” Whoever puts it on will learn to understand the language of birds and animals, flowers and trees.”
The old man went further into the forest, sat down to rest under a large tree and dozed off. He was awakened by the cawing of crows.
“What is it, I dozed off, it seems?” - the old man perked up.
He sees two ravens sitting on a branch just above his head and cawing hoarsely.
“What are they talking about?” - thought the old man. He put on his red cap and began to listen.
“We haven’t met for a long time, friend Kangarasu,” says one raven to the other. “Where are you coming from?”
“I was on the seashore, but the fish disappeared there, there was nothing to feed on, so I flew here,” answers the other. “Where did you fly, brother?”
“I was hunting in the rice fields near the village, but it’s a bad year for snails.” And what’s more, the children tease:
Thief-thief-raven,
Where did you hide?
Steal the paints
Color the feathers.
- Yes, friend, these mischievous people are causing us trouble. But tell me, what’s new and unprecedented in the world?
- To croak in truth is nothing. Oh yes, I remembered. I'll tell you what happened in our area. About six years ago, I wouldn’t lie... Yes, exactly, six years ago a peasant built a storeroom. They began to lay the shingle roof...
- A torn, torn roof?
- No, from shingles. In a word, they began to nail the planks one to another. And it so happened that a snake crawled onto the roof, and by chance it was nailed down. The snake lies half-dead and does not die. All these years she has been fed by her faithful friend. He crawls to her, and they both cry, cry... Someone else's grief grows over the house, like a black cloud. And then trouble came to the peasant: his only daughter fell ill.
- Kra-kra-beautiful?
- A beauty, and what a beauty! I feel sorry for her! If no one guesses to lift the board and free the snake, then the snake will die. The girl will die at that very moment. Many times I flew over the roof and croaked about it at the top of my lungs, but what’s the use! Nobody listened to me.
Another raven answered him:
- It's true, people are stupid! No matter how loudly you croak, they are unaware of everything.
The crows spoke and scattered in different directions.
The old man heard this and thought: “It’s good that I’m wearing a wonderful cap!” We must quickly go save the girl. But first I’ll dress up as a sorcerer, otherwise they won’t believe me.”
The old man wove a tall, tall hat with a sharp end out of straw, covered it with colorful paper and put it on his head. An old man comes to a peasant’s house and shouts at the gate:
- The fortuneteller has come, the fortuneteller! I can figure out everything in the world, what, why and why happened.
The owner called the old man:
- Hey, fortune teller, don’t stand at the gate, come to my house and tell your fortune!
An old man came into the house and asked:
- What do you want to know? Maybe you have some cherished desire?
“I have one cherished wish: for my daughter to recover. She has been sick for many years. And not a single healer can understand what disease attacked her.
- Okay, I'll tell your fortune. I just need to look at the patient first. “Take me to your daughter,” says the old man.
A girl lies, thin, yellow, like a leaf in autumn. A leaf is about to fall from a branch...
The old man sat down at the patient’s bedside and muttered to himself as if he were casting a spell:
Guru-guru, buru-buru.
Illness - out.
Health goes to the house.
Buru-buru, guru-guru.
He muttered, muttered whatever came to mind, and then said to the owner:
“Six years ago you built a new storage room, laid a roof over it, and accidentally nailed a snake.” The snake suffers, it suffers day and night. For this, the snake tribe sent a disease to your home.
- The fortuneteller speaks the truth! - exclaimed the peasant. - Just six years ago I was building a storeroom... We must free the snake as soon as possible.
They immediately called a neighbor, a carpenter. He climbed onto the roof and began to lift the planks... And under one, in fact, there was a snake lying, all white, dried out, barely alive.
- This is the cause of the disease! - said the old man.
Carefully put the snake in the basket, put the basket on the bank of the stream and let's water and feed the snake. The snake began to come to life.
At the same time, the girl began to recover. The girl's former beauty returned. And when the snake was released into the wild, the girl completely recovered.
That's why there was fun in the house.
The peasant gave the old man new clothes. The old man decided to look at the world and set off to wander.
He walks from village to village, from city to city.
One day he sat down to rest under a spreading tree near the road. Lo and behold, two ravens arrive again. They sat down on a tree and started talking among themselves.
“It’s boring to live in the same city, you hear little new,” complains the first raven, “you inevitably fly to other lands.”
- What are you talking about! - answers the second raven. “But here, in our small village, something unprecedented happened.” One peasant fell seriously ill; he will die today or tomorrow. Why is that all? About five years ago he added another room to his house. To clear the place, he cut down an old camphor tree. The stump remains standing near the house itself, and rainwater from the roof flows onto it. The roots of the tree did not die; every spring they produce new shoots. Yes, but they are immediately cut off. The tree does not live and does not die. So the peasant suffered a heavy punishment for this...
“And you croaked on the roof and said what caused the illness?”
- Croaked, croaked, even hoarse. Do people really understand?
- The truth is yours. Last night, thieves robbed a house in our city. How I shouted: “Guard, guard!” And all to no avail, no one woke up. But tell me more.
“The camphor tree is suffering, it’s suffering, poor thing.” Every night many trees come from the mountain forests to visit their unfortunate friend. People would have let him live in freedom or dug him up so that he would immediately dry up and not suffer anymore. Then the peasant would immediately recover...
The old man heard the raven's story and went to a distant land to visit a sick peasant. He came and shouted at the gate:
- The fortuneteller has come, the fortuneteller!
People ran out of the house and called the old man:
- Fortune teller, come here, the owner invites you.
They brought the old man into the house. He sees: lying on a sick bed, barely breathing. The old man sat down at his head and asked:
- What should I tell you fortune about?
- Tell me, how long will I have to suffer? Or maybe there is some way in the world to save me.
- Don't worry! - says the old man. - I will find out the cause of the disease and instantly cure you. For me it's as easy as shelling pears.
The old man muttered to himself:
Guru-guru, buru-buru.
Illness - out.
Health goes to the house.
Buru-buru, guru-guru.
The old man muttered and muttered, and then said:
— Five years ago, you, owner, made an extension to your house.
- Oh, fortune teller, how did you know this? - Everyone around was surprised.
- This was revealed to me by my fortune telling. Leave me alone in that room, and in just one night I will discover the cause of your master’s illness and cure him.
They took the old man there. First of all, he ordered:
- Don't come to me until I call you!
Night came, but the old man did not go to bed. He put on his magic cap and waited to see what would happen.
At midnight something rustled and rustled under the window:
- Hey, camphor tree, answer me! How is your health today?
In response, a quiet, quiet voice was heard, as if from underground:
-Who is saying this? Right, cryptomeria from Mount Cryptomeria? You come to me every night. How can I thank you for your concern? I feel bad, I can hardly breathe... I only think about one thing: how can I die as quickly as possible...
Cryptomeria began to console her friend:
- What are you, what are you, you can’t lose heart like that! Take heart! And now I have to go. I'll come again tomorrow.
Cryptomeria is gone.
But not even an hour had passed when a rustling sound was heard again and someone’s voice asked:
- Hello, friend, camphor tree! Maybe you feel better?
-Who is talking to me? Isn't this a pine tree from Pine Mountain?
- Yes, it's me.
- You came from afar!.. Thank you. You get tired yourself, and you disturb the birds on your branches.
- That's enough, that's enough! I was just going for a walk and came to see you on the way. Spring will come, and you will certainly get better! Don't lose hope!
And again it was heard: rustle-rusch! It was the pine tree that was leaving.
The old man in his “Sensitive Ears” cap heard all their speeches and thought: “I wish it would dawn soon!”
As soon as morning came, the old man hurried to the sick man and again muttered his incantations: “Guru-guru, buru-buru...” And then he said:
- You cut down the camphor tree... But the stump remained near the house. It is alive, green shoots grow on it. And you cut them off every time. Someone else's grief is the cause of illness. After all, not only the camphor tree suffers - all the trees on the high mountains around are grieving for their friend. There is no peace for anyone in the forests. Leave the camphor tree, don’t cut its shoots, then you will get better.
“Don’t touch the camphor tree,” the peasant instructed his sons. “If necessary, dismantle the roof over it.”
And when the young shoots on the camphor tree turned green, the peasant recovered. The disease disappeared as if by hand.
The sons of a peasant built a house for an old man next door. A garden was laid out near the house. The most beautiful trees from all over the area settled there and bloomed with unprecedented color every spring. And all the animals and birds were also friends with the old man, because he understood and loved them.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru