Little hunter
It was, and maybe it wasn't. There was a boy in the world. His father and mother died early. He had three younger sisters and three younger brothers. He hunted, fished and fed himself and his siblings.
One fine day he set a snare in the reeds and barely hid, three pheasants humming merrily appeared nearby. The boy was already pleased when he suddenly heard some people walking towards the rushes, screaming at the top of their throats.
He ran to meet me. They were two mullahs.
- Noble mullahs! The boy pleaded. - Stop and be quiet for a while.
- And why should we stand here and still be silent? One of the mullahs asked.
"I've set a snare, three fat pheasants should fall into them," the boy explained. "But if you scream, you'll scare my prey away."
- Agreed, but let's agree: you will give each of us a pheasant, and we will stand and remain silent - said the other mullah.
- O noble mullahs! The boy begged again. “I have three hungry brothers and three hungry sisters at home. Shall I feed them one pheasant?
"If you don't give us pheasant, we'll scream even louder than before," the mullahs announced, and headed for the reeds.
- Hey, stop! The boy rushed after them. - Let it be yours!
The mullahs calmed down, and the little hunter caught three pheasants. He gave two of them to the mullahs and left one for himself.
The mullahs seized an unexpected prey and set off. The boy couldn't stand it and shouted after them:
- And I'm not getting anything for these pheasants ?!
One of the mullahs turned and said:
"Take the word mutanniet as a souvenir."
The boy asked:
- And what does your word 'mutanniet' mean?
- There is a masculine gender, there is a female gender, and our word means something in between.
The mullahs laughed and walked away. The boy went home too, wondering cruelly how to feed this one pheasant, three brothers and three sisters.
A long time has passed, and maybe not. The boy went fishing. He cast the net over the river water and pulled out a goldfish, extremely beautiful. Not a single fisherman has ever seen such a fish in his life. They advised the boy to take her to the Tsar.
The tsar watched the goldfish and gave the boy a handful of gold coins for it. He also ordered him to always bring nice animals, birds and fish to the palace.
The boy has scarcely left the tsarist chambers, and here the vizier stands before the tsar, lamenting mournfully:
- Come on mine! If you pay gold for every fish you catch, your treasury will soon be empty.
- Too bad, this time it's gone - the tsar replied. - The next time we won't be so generous.
- The donated gold should be recovered - advised the vizier.
- The tsar does not get away with taking what he has already given once - the tsar replies. - It's a sign of weakness.
The vizier then exclaimed:
- Let me act, my Tsar! I will devise a cunning way, and one that will not suffer your honor, and you will get your gold back.
"Well, if you can recover the gold without force, follow him then," the tsar agreed.
- I will ask this boy what kind of goldfish he is - the vizier revealed his clever way. - When he says that it's male, I will say: "We need a female fish." And if he says the fish is female, then I will say, “We need a male fish. Give back the tsarist gold. "
The tsar of wisdom was amazed at the vizier and sent him off. He chased the boy's vizier and asked:
- Is your fish male or female?
"She's a mutanniet," the boy replied.
- What does "mutanniet" mean? - asks the vizier, surprised.
- That means she is both.
The vizier did not know what to say, and the boy took the tsarist gold. This is how he used the word that the greedy mullahs had thrown at him to mock him.
* Mullah - Muslim clergyman.
