The Hunter’s Mother and the Two Sons
Long ago, in a village surrounded by thick forests and rugged mountains, lived a widow and her two sons.
The elder son had married, worked in the fields, and supported his mother and younger brother with his harvest. The younger son became a hunter, wandering deep into the forests. Thanks to the younger son’s skill, there was always meat in the house—fresh or dried.
Although the family seemed peaceful and prosperous, the mother favored the younger son excessively. She called him her treasure, her only life. She scolded her elder son and his wife constantly, seeing faults where none existed.
The mother and the younger son lived in the old house her late husband had built. The elder son and his wife had built a small house behind the old one. Still, they shared one kitchen table as tradition required, though the mother constantly picked quarrels.
The elder son grew bitter. Despite supporting the family, he felt unloved, unwanted, and falsely blamed. His spirit grew weary.
One day, the elder brother told the younger brother that he had discovered a huge bird’s nest in the deep forest and invited him to collect it together. The younger brother, excited by the idea, rushed to go. They climbed the enormous tree where the nest, called hum patha, lay. As they neared the top, the elder brother quietly removed the sharpened pegs (the ladder) and descended, leaving his younger brother alone at the nest. The younger brother, engrossed in the nest, did not notice.
At that moment, the mother bird flew back to its nest and found the young man there. He begged forgiveness and asked to be allowed to live there with her chick. The compassionate mother bird agreed and fed them both daily, bringing food tirelessly. Days passed. The chick grew feathers.
When the chick’s feathers grew full, the young man began plucking some of them in fear that the bird would leave him behind. The chick complained to its mother. The mother bird warned the young man that once the chick could fly, she would carry him back to his mother’s house—if only he treated her chick with care.
One dawn, the fully grown bird lifted the young man onto its back and soared above clouds, mountains, and rivers. But as they flew farther, the bird’s wings grew weary, and it landed him on a sandy riverbank he had never seen before.
Lost and desperate, the young man sought help. A wildcat appeared, claiming to know his mother’s house. The young man asked it to steal a chicken and sprinkle its feathers on the path back. The wildcat tried but the feathers blew away in the wind.
Next came a golden tiger. It, too, claimed to know the widow’s house. The young man asked it to cut a pig under the house and trail its blood to mark the path. The tiger tried but the rain washed the blood away.
Finally, a small mouse offered to help. The young man asked it to steal a ball of string and tie it to the house post. The mouse did exactly that, and at last the young man followed the string back to his home.
At the gate, he begged his mother to open the door, telling her he was her son, still alive. But the mother, suspicious of tricksters, refused. Only when she came out to feed the chickens did she find her son collapsed at the doorstep. She embraced him, kissed him again and again, overwhelmed with love.
That same warm morning, the elder brother and his wife sat together happily under the sun in front of their small house. Seeing them so content, the younger brother’s heart burned with resentment. He asked his mother for her rifle to kill them both. She agreed. One shot rang out; both husband and wife fell dead.
Time passed. The mother began to regret losing her elder son. Her heart felt empty, as though half of it were gone. She began to hate the surviving younger son, once her favorite. They stopped speaking and no longer shared meals.
The younger son, feeling hated, resolved to end his life. He went to a cursed boulder in the forest known to swallow living beings. He told his mother three times of his plan, but she ignored him. Climbing the stone, he offered himself to it and was consumed.
The widow was now alone, bereft of both sons. Her heart became desolate. She called their names, but only silence answered. She went mad with grief. She thought she saw piles of dried meat from her hunter son, but when she tried to eat them they turned to dry wood in her hands. In her frenzy she piled up all the “meat” (which was now wood) on the cursed boulder and set it on fire. The rock exploded into pieces, scattering fragments far and wide.
Some say that in the place where the boulder burst, a kind of white mushroom grew, said to be formed from the magic stone and the brain of the swallowed humans.
And so the story ends.
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| AI Creates it |
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