The Silver Bell

Once upon a time, a shepherd boy was driving his flock through a beautiful green valley. He was very tired and stopped to rest by a hillock covered in thick grass. And there, right under his feet, he saw a tiny silver bell.

The shepherd boy picked it up and gently shook it. The bell rang. The boy had never heard anything more pleasant—it was like silver rain, or even better. But the most amazing thing was that, although the shepherd's feet were sore and he was very tired, he suddenly felt as if there was no fatigue in the world at all.

"This bell is a real treasure!" said the shepherd. After ringing it to his heart's content, he tucked it into his pocket.

Now, let me tell you what kind of bell this was. It belonged to one of the gnomes who lived in the valley beneath the hillock. They had been dancing on the meadow when the shepherd passed by with his flock, but upon seeing him, they immediately ran away and hid. Each gnome had a silver bell like this on their hat. The last gnome, while running away, caught his hat on a bush, and the bell fell off. It was a terrible loss—for, as you probably know, gnomes can only fall asleep to the sound of silver bells. And so, without his bell, the gnome couldn't sleep and soon became completely exhausted from insomnia. Of course, he would have given anything to get the bell back, which the shepherd had slipped into his pocket.

The gnome searched for it for a long time, taking on various forms. Sometimes he became an ant, examining every blade of grass. Other times, he turned into a dog, trying to find his lost treasure by scent. Once, he even became a little girl walking along the path, asking everyone she met if they had seen a bell. But the shepherd never crossed his path—he had driven his flock over the hills in search of better pastures.

The poor gnome grew thinner, paler, and suffered terribly from insomnia. Finally, an idea came to him. What if a crow or a jackdaw had snatched the bell from his hat? These birds love to steal shiny things. So he turned into a bird—a very small one—and flew everywhere in search of his bell. But he couldn't find it.

One evening, as he flew here and there, he didn't even notice that he had crossed the hills. And there he stumbled upon the shepherd. The boy was lazily lying on the grass. His dog lay beside him, and the sheep wandered around, their bells jingling around their necks. The little bird thought of his loss and sadly sang a song:

"Sheep, sheep, my bell is lost! If you have it, you are rich indeed!"

The shepherd heard this. "Hey, little bird!" he called out. "Don't you see—the sun is setting. It's time to sleep, not to sing. And why are my sheep so rich? True, they have bells, but they're just made of plain metal and can only jingle. But I have one that's worth listening to!" Oh, how joyfully the bird sang! It immediately flew into the bushes, shed its feathery disguise, and turned into an old woman in a blue coat and a red shawl.

The shepherd kept ringing the bell, puzzled by the bird's words. Suddenly, an unfamiliar old woman approached him.

She walked with difficulty and limped.

"My legs are old and sore," she complained to the shepherd. "And what are you doing here?" she asked. "Oh, what a wonderful bell you have! I've never seen such a beauty in my life. Listen, dear, I have a sixpence in my pocket. And at home, I have a grandson whose birthday is tomorrow. I need to give him something. Would you sell me this marvelous bell? Then I won't have to tire my old legs searching for a gift."

"No," said the shepherd, "the bell is not for sale. There's probably nothing like it in the world. When I ring it, the sheep come running, no matter where they are. And what a pleasant sound it has! Listen, granny!" And he rang the bell again. "This sound helps with fatigue. And I think it could even ease the pain in your legs and heal your sore back."

"Can it really?" exclaimed the old woman. "Please, dear, sell it to me! I won't give it to my grandson—I'll keep it for myself. I need it more than you do. I'll give you five silver shillings for it."

"No," said the shepherd, "I won't part with it."

"Ten silver shillings!" said the old woman.

"No," the shepherd insisted.

"Then a gold coin, a gold coin!" the old woman cried. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of gold.

"What do I need gold for?" said the shepherd. "It won't ring like this."

"Oh, what a stubborn boy!" sighed the old woman. "But you don't know who I am! Listen, dear, I am a kind sorceress and can do much good for those I like. Would you like me to make your sheep's wool the whitest, softest, and thickest in the area, and the sheep themselves the largest and healthiest?"

"That I would like," the shepherd thought.

"And your small flock will become the largest," the old woman pressed on. "And you'll become the richest shepherd in the area, even in the whole country! Here, I have a shepherd's staff, dear—would you like to trade it for the bell? Take a look!"

The shepherd took the staff in his hands. It was made of beautiful ivory, with carvings of biblical scenes—on one side, Adam and Eve in paradise among lambs, and on the other, David and Goliath.

"This is truly a beautiful staff," said the shepherd. "And while you drive your sheep with it," said the old woman, "not one of them will get lost. And none will fall ill."

The shepherd could resist no longer. Whether she was a witch or not, he was now completely under her spell. He felt that he simply couldn't live without this staff and had to have it, no matter the cost.

"Deal!" he exclaimed. "The staff for the bell!"

The old woman handed over the staff and tightly grasped the bell. And then—wonders! She was there one moment, and gone the next. Only the fading sound of the bell could still be heard from somewhere unknown.

"I think I've made a fool of myself," thought the shepherd, looking at his new staff.

But the gnome returned to the green valley, beneath the hillock where all the gnomes live. There, he turned back into a little man in a green hat. Jumping with joy, he reattached the bell to it.

"And now, to sleep. Finally, I'll sleep properly!" he said and went to bed beneath the hillock. But, as it turns out, the shepherd hadn't made a fool of himself at all. The gnome kept his word. The shepherd's flock grew, and the sheep changed before his eyes. Soon, no one in the entire country had such beautiful, large, and healthy sheep.

The shepherd became a rich man. And since he was always kind and never looked down on his less fortunate neighbors, everyone respected him. And when the king himself once knighted him, everyone agreed that he truly deserved it.

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The Silver Bell

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