All are fat enough, so Which one Should I pluck, sir?
Pluck the cormorant for me, my boy!
I'll have it cooked, broiled, fried, and eat the whole thing up!
This gave the cormorant a start! Opening her eyes wide
e strutted in the direction of my song, calling out in an angry voice, ’Who is singing this insolent song about me? Who?”
I quickly backed down to the bottom of my hole, saying to myself, "So you’re angry, eh? You won’t get me, even if you break your silly head knocking it against my door.”
The cormorant didn’t get me, as a matter of fact. But she caught sight of Choat in his shallow hole. I heard her shout angrily, ’What did you just say about me?”
"I said nothing, Big Sister,” Choat timidly replied and backed down into his shallow hole as far as he could go.
"How dare you deny it? How dare you?”
A heavy stroke of the cormorant’s giant bill accompanied each word of her rebuke. Her bill was like an iron drill that broke through the ground and landed heavily on Choat. The only thing I could hear was Choat’s pained whine. I lay very still in the bottom of my hole, too frightened to move. Having
relieved her anger, the cormorant flew away to look for fish.
After a while, I carefully crept up to Choat's hole. When he saw me, my poor neighbour cried out bitterly and I ask stupidly, “What? What happened?"
But Choat could no longer stand on his legs. He was lying on the ground, half-dead. I hastily knelt down and took his head in my hands and spoke softly, "How could I know things would happen this way? Brother, my heart is filled With bitter remorse. My silly bragging is the cause of this tragedy. What can I do now?”
I was surprised by the advice he gave me. "Being in poor health,” he murmured, “I would not have lived long anyway. So I am not really sad at having to die now. But before leaving this world, I would like to give you some advice: Don’t be such a foolish braggart. Your aggression and arrogance will bring bad luck to you someday.”
Choat breathed his last. My heart was filled with pity and remorse. Had it not been for the stupid joke I played on the cormorant, Choat would not have died. And I myself had a close shave, too. Far from
being the smart fellow I thought I was, I had been a fool. My heart was filled with remorse.
I buried Choat on a grassy plot of land, heaping earth on his grave. I stood there silently for a long time, absorbing this first hard lesson of my life.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
0 comments:
Post a Comment