As the sun took an orange dip into the horizon and the night was still on its way up to crown the blue-white sky, a young shepherd boy was heading back home. He had a sandy skin with freckles covering the bridge of his nose and the top of his cheeks. The dimples on his face were worn with sun burns and young years of hard work. Despite the fact that herding the village’s sheep took a toll on him yet mischief never left his spirit. Sometimes, even his eyes sparkled with the jokes that made rounds in his mind.
That particular day, the shepherd’s day had been tedious and lacked any excitement. On the other end of the town, which was only a few long steps away, the daily humdrum of life continued unabated. Women folk were almost done with their work. The children were still abuzz with their play, anxious to finish their round of games before the sinking rays of the sun disappeared completely. The men of the humble village were wrapping up as well, weaving their way back to their homes.
Suddenly, within the hum of the daily clatter of the town, a shrill scream pierced into the ears of the villagers. It was the young, lonely shepherd who herded the sheep of the entire town. Since pasture was good far off into the mountainous region, the boy took off early in the morning with the flock of naïve beasts and returned by the evening.
Such a scream could only have come from the shepherd, and it also sounded from the west, the direction the boy had started off in the morning. The shriek had taken the entire town by a shock, rumbling and reverberating deep in their souls, as without a second thought, they immediately gathered the available sticks and stones in their vicinity and followed the boy’s footsteps.
Men and women of all the sizes rushed to the boy’s aid. In the aftermath of his cry, he had pronounced that the lion was here twice. The entire village shared the thought; they knew that the deadly king of the jungle had emerged from the nearing woods to tear apart the herd of sheep to have a splendid feast. But the worry that nagged the villagers the most was of the poor boy who might not be able to save himself from the lion’s monstrous attack. There was a possibility that in his attempt to save his sheep, the young blood might have tried to present a challenge to the beast and in doing so, might get severely injured.
Blood roared against the collective beating hearts of the villagers. With all their might, they crossed the first hill to see bloodshed and hurt. But to their utmost surprise, the young shepherd stood there with his herding stick by his side, laughing hilariously. All the sheep continued grazing the nibble grass, unaware of the mischief that had been plotted in association with them.
Baffled the women and men inquired after the matter in a cluster of voices, which got confused and lost in one another. The boy continued laughing, merry that he had fooled the town and squeezed in some excitement into his long and hard day.
