Читать книгу Balinese Children's Favorite Stories - Victor Mason - Страница 12

The Golden Axe

In a little hut on the fringes of a forest there once lived a poor woodcutter named Lentjod. He was a kind old man who lived with his wife and made his living from chopping firewood which he sold in a nearby village.

Lentjod enjoyed his work, though it had not made him rich. He barely earned enough money to pay for food for himself and his wife. His six children, now grown up, had gone to work in the village. Lentjod missed them all but there was nothing he could do. He wanted to build a big house for everyone to live in together but he just didn't have enough money.

One particularly fine spring morning, Lentjod was outside as usual, cutting wood by the side of a deep gorge that dropped towards a raging river. Chop, chop, chop, went his axe as he cut a fallen tree trunk into equal pieces.

Then Lentjod swung too hard and his axe flew from his hands. He watched in horror as it went tumbling down the gully, bouncing over rocks and moss until it hit the water with a loud splash.

"Oh no!" he cried. "My axe!"

Without his axe, Lentjod would not be able to work and he certainly couldn't afford to buy a new one. He would have to climb down the gully and try to find it. Slowly and carefully he clambered down the steep slope, wheezing as he went—for Lentjod was not a young man any more.

Finally he reached the water's edge, but he could not see his axe beneath the swirling currents, hard as he peered. He walked up and down the river's edge and kept searching, but there was no sign of it.

Just as he was about to give up and go home, he was startled by the sight of a young woman bathing in a shallow rock pool by the raging river. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

He had no way of knowing, of course, that this was not an ordinary girl. In fact, she was a dedari —a Balinese fairy—who had come down to earth from heaven, to bathe. Not wishing to intrude, Lentjod turned to leave. But it was too late; she had seen him.

"Wait," she commanded. As Lentjod turned, she asked gently: "What troubles you, old man? I can see that you have lost something that is of great value to you."

Her voice was as soft and magical as the tinkle of a silver bell.

Lentjod was spellbound and started telling her about his loss and how he would not be able to make a living without the tool of his trade.

She looked at him warmly and, smiling, pulled from the water a gleaming axe made from burnished steel.

"Is this the axe you seek?" she asked the old man. Lentjod looked at the shining metal axe.

"Oh, if only it were," he cried.

"Please take it," said the dedari, "for I found it in the place where yours was lost."

"Oh, fair maiden," Lentjod said solemnly, "it is not mine to take. However much I would love to own this axe, my conscience will not allow me to claim it as my own."