Archive for the World Folktales Category
The princess stared in disbelief as the monstrous head entered her field of vision in slow-motion and crashed into the side of the knoll. Stray drops of monster blood pelted her face, bringing her sharply out of her reverie and she saw the herd standing beside her, his lips splitting into a warm, reassuring smile. Then he looked skywards and so did the princess. They were seeing a falcon, clutching an enormous sword in its claws, gliding gracefully towards them.
The giant’s evil-bladed sword had smacked into an wooden door which now lay in splinters, completely busted by the force of the sword’s flight. The young herd had walked into the park of trees and going yonder, had found the giant’s sword and the splintered door.
In a small village in Scotland, there lived a poor fisherman whose living was by selling fish he caught in a nearby loch. The loch was a protected bay or rather a lake, formed by a narrow arm of the sea. It was a beautiful sight to behold, oh yes it was, the sparkling, crystal-blue lake, set in the midst of a splendid rocky basin. The fisherman was getting old and so was his luck.
The princess was as well-trained in the art of riding as any other, male or female, and made quick progress, the first twenty days. Eventually, she met the dervish and sought his help in securing the objects of her quest.
Prince Bahman rode in silence. He was going over what his sister had told him about the three elements she coveted so much.
The cradles had been carried along by the gentle drifts of the canal, to a garden in the outskirts of the kingdom. Here, the fated cradles had been spotted by an intendant, an official of high rank and one of the kingdom’s most respected.
Persia was under the rule of Sultan Kosrouschah, when our story happened. Ever since childhood, Kosrouschah had been fond of going incognito, seeking adventures in all parts of the city while accompanied by one of his own officers, disguised like himself.
Hailibu’s rock stands there, even today, reminding people of the great hunter Hailibu and his generous sacrifice of his life for the sake of the people he loved.
Now Hailibu, our hero, is in a fix. What should he do? Should he tell what he had overheard? Wouldn’t that spell doon to him? Or should he keep quite to save himself?
This is the tale of a mighty hunter, Hailibu. He was a great hunter because he loved the game of hunting not just to feed himself but also to feed those around him – especially those who could no longer go for hunting themselves.