What the Birds Told About

Long, long ago, there was an old man who lived in a village. He would wander the mountains, collecting firewood and selling it at the market.

One day, he found a red cap in the forest. The old man was delighted with his discovery—even though the cap was full of holes, he had never owned one like it before.

"Does it fit me?" wondered the old man, and he pulled it onto his head. And what do you know? Before, he had only heard the chirping and cries of birds, but now the entire forest was filled with arguments and conversations.

"Give me back my worm! Give me back my worm!"

"Tweet, tweet, I won't give it back! Let's split it."

"The owl saw me and called out, 'Hoo-hoo!'"

"And what did you do?"

"And I didn't make a peep. That's how I escaped."

"My children, my children, my little doves, let me comfort you."

Over there, on that branch, they were arguing, while on this one, a friendly conversation was taking place. And suddenly:

"R-robbery! Robbery! Catch the thief! Caw! Caw!"

The old man was so frightened that he jumped to the side! A branch knocked the cap off his head, and the voices immediately fell silent, replaced once again by the incomprehensible chirping of birds. The old man picked up the cap from the ground, put it back on his head, and once more heard the conversations above on the branches and below in the bushes. He took off the cap—and again, there was only the chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves. He put the cap back on—and once more, there were intelligent voices.

"So that's it!" the old man realized. "This isn't an ordinary cap—it's a magical one. People call it the 'Cap of Sensitive Ears.' Whoever wears it will learn to understand the language of birds and animals, flowers and trees."

The old man continued deeper into the forest, sat down to rest under a large tree, and dozed off. He was awakened by the cawing of crows.

"Did I doze off, it seems?" the old man roused himself.

He saw two crows sitting on a branch right above his head, croaking hoarsely.

"What are they talking about?" the old man wondered. He put on his red cap and began to listen.

"It's been a long time since we last met, friend Kankarasa," one crow said to the other. "Where are you coming from?"

"I was by the seashore, but the fish disappeared, and there was nothing left to eat, so I flew here," the other replied. "And where have you been flying, brother?"

"I was hunting near the village in the rice fields, but this year is bad for snails. And to make matters worse, the children tease me:

'Caw-caw-crow,
Where did you get soot?
Steal some paint,
And color your feathers.'

"Yes, friend, those mischievous kids are a real trouble for us. But tell me, what's new and unheard of in the world?"

"To be honest, nothing much. Oh, wait, I remember. Let me tell you what happened in our area. About six years ago, if I'm not mistaken... Yes, exactly six years ago, a peasant was building a storage shed. They started laying the roof with shingles..."

"Shingled, shingled roof?"

"No, with shingles. Anyway, they started nailing the boards one to another. And it so happened that a snake crawled onto the roof and was accidentally nailed down. The snake lies there, half-dead, but it doesn't die. All these years, its faithful mate has been feeding it. It crawls to her, and they both cry, cry... A stranger's grief hangs over the house like a black cloud. And then misfortune struck the peasant: his only daughter fell ill."

"Was she... was she beautiful?"

"A beauty, and what a beauty! It's a pity! If no one figures out to lift the board and free the snake, the snake will die. And at that very moment, the girl will die too. Many times I've flown over the roof and cawed about this at the top of my lungs, but what's the use? No one listens to me."

The other crow replied:

"You're right, people are so clueless! No matter how loudly you caw, they just don't get it."

The crows chatted and then flew off in different directions.

The old man heard this and thought, "Good thing I have this magical cap! I must hurry to save the girl. But first, I should dress up as a sorcerer, or they won't believe me."

The old man wove a tall, pointed hat out of straw, covered it with colorful paper, and put it on his head. Then he went to the peasant's house and called out at the gate:

"The fortune-teller has come, the fortune-teller! I can unravel everything in the world—what, why, and how it happened."

The master called out to the old man:

"Hey, fortune-teller, don't stand at the gate, come into my house and tell my fortune!"

The old man entered the house and asked:

"And what do you want to know? Do you have any cherished wish?"

"I have one cherished wish: for my daughter to recover. She's been sick for many years. And no healer can figure out what illness has struck her."

"Very well, I will tell your fortune. But first, I need to see the patient. Take me to your daughter," the old man said.

The girl lay there, thin and yellow, like an autumn leaf. Any moment now, the leaf would fall from the branch...

The old man sat at the head of the sick girl's bed, muttering to himself as if casting spells:

"Guru-guru, buru-buru.
Illness—be gone.
Health—come home.
Buru-buru, guru-guru."

He muttered and muttered whatever came to mind, and then he said to the master:

"Six years ago, you built a new storage shed, laid the roof, and accidentally nailed down a snake. The snake suffers, in agony day and night. For this, the snake tribe has cursed your home with illness."

"The fortune-teller speaks the truth!" exclaimed the peasant. "Exactly six years ago, I built the storage shed... We must free the snake at once."

They immediately called a neighbor who was a carpenter. He climbed onto the roof and began lifting the boards... And under one of them, there indeed lay a snake, white, dried up, barely alive.

"Here is the cause of the illness!" said the old man.
They carefully placed the snake in a basket, set the basket by the stream, and began to feed and water the snake. The snake started to come back to life.

At the same time, the girl began to recover. Her former beauty returned. And when they released the snake into the wild, the girl fully recovered.

What joy there was in the house!

The farmer gave the old man new clothes. The old man decided to see the world and set off to wander.

He traveled from village to village, from town to town.

One day, he sat down to rest under a sprawling tree by the road. Suddenly, two crows flew in again. They perched on the tree and began to talk.

"It's dreary living in the same town all the time, you hear little that's new," complained the first crow. "You can't help but fly off to other lands."

"What are you talking about!" replied the second crow. "In our little village, something extraordinary has happened. A farmer has fallen gravely ill, and he could die any day now. And why? Five years ago, he added a room to his house. To clear space, he cut down an old camphor tree. The stump remained near the house, and rainwater from the roof flows onto it. The tree's roots didn't die; every spring they send up new shoots. But they are immediately cut back. The tree neither lives nor dies. And so, the farmer has been stricken with a heavy punishment..."

"Did you caw from the roof, telling them why the illness struck?"

"I cawed and cawed, even grew hoarse. But do people understand anything?"

"True enough. Last night in our town, thieves robbed a house. I cried out, 'Help, help!' But it was no use; no one woke up. But go on with your story."

"The camphor tree suffers, poor thing. Every night, many trees from the mountain forests come to visit their unfortunate friend. If only people would let it live freely or dig it up so it could wither and suffer no more. Then the farmer would recover at once..."

The old man heard the crow's tale and set off to the distant land where the sick farmer lived. He arrived and called out at the gates:

"A fortune-teller has come, a fortune-teller!"

People ran out of the house and called to the old man:

"Fortune-teller, come inside, the master invites you."

They led the old man into the house. He saw the sick man lying in bed, barely breathing. The old man sat by his bedside and asked:

"What shall I divine for you?"

"Tell me, how long must I suffer? Or is there some remedy in the world to save me?"

"Do not despair!" said the old man. "I will discover the cause of your illness and cure you in an instant. For me, it is the simplest thing."

The old man muttered to himself:

"Guru-guru, buru-buru.

Sickness, begone.

Health, come home.

Buru-buru, guru-guru."

He muttered and muttered, then said:

"Five years ago, master, you added a room to your house."

"Ah, fortune-teller, how did you know that?" everyone marveled.

"My divination revealed it. Leave me alone in that room, and in one night I will uncover the cause of your master's illness and cure him."

They led the old man to the room. First, he ordered:

"Do not enter until I call you!"

Night fell, but the old man did not sleep. He put on his magical cap and waited.

At midnight, something rustled and whispered under the window:

"Hey, camphor tree, answer! How is your health today?"

A faint voice, as if from underground, replied:

"Who is speaking? Surely, it's the cryptomeria from Cryptomeria Mountain? You come to me every night. How can I thank you for your care? I am poorly, barely breathing... All I think about is how to die quickly..."

The cryptomeria comforted its friend:

"What are you saying, don't lose heart! Be strong! Now I must go. I'll come again tomorrow."

The cryptomeria left.

But not an hour passed before another rustle was heard, and a voice asked:

"Hello, friend, camphor tree! Are you feeling any better?"

"Who is speaking? Could it be the pine from Pine Mountain?"

"Yes, it is I."

"You've come from far away!... Thank you. You must be tired, and you disturb the birds on your branches."

"Enough, enough! I just wanted to take a walk and stopped by. Spring will come, and you will surely recover! Don't lose hope!"

Again, a rustling sound was heard as the pine departed.

The old man in his "Sensitive Ears" cap heard all their words and thought, "If only dawn would come!"

As soon as morning broke, the old man hurried to the sick man and muttered his incantations again: "Guru-guru, buru-buru..." Then he said:

"You cut down the camphor tree... but the stump remains near the house. It is alive, sending up green shoots. But you cut them back every time. Another's sorrow is the cause of your illness. Not only the camphor tree suffers—all the trees on the high mountains around grieve for their friend. No one in the forests has peace. Leave the camphor tree alone, do not cut its shoots, and you will recover."

"Do not touch the camphor tree," the farmer instructed his sons. "If necessary, dismantle the roof above it."

And when young shoots turned green on the camphor tree, the farmer recovered. His illness vanished as if by magic.

The farmer's sons built a house for the old man nearby. They planted a garden around it. The most beautiful trees from all around settled there, blooming each spring with unprecedented beauty. And all the animals and birds became friends with the old man, for he understood and loved them.

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What the Birds Told About

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