WHO IS STRONGER?
Once upon a time, a colorful Pheasant was running about his business when he unexpectedly slipped on the ice and fell. "Who knocked me onto my back?" he thought in confusion.
— Ice, Ice, did you do this? — asked the frightened Pheasant. — Where do you get such strength?
The shiny, mirror-like Ice slyly laughed:
— What are you talking about, handsome? I have no strength at all. If I had strength, would I be afraid of the Sun? It warms up, and everything around melts.
The Pheasant, tilting his head back, looked at the Sun and squinted from its dazzling rays.
— Sun! Sun! — he shouted. — Do you melt Ice? Where do you get such strength?
The heavenly body looked at the curious forest bird with interest.
— I am not that strong, — the Sun replied, shining with a smile. — If I had strength, the black Cloud would not cover my face. It turns out, it is stronger than me.
At that moment, the Cloud just happened to find the Sun, and everything around darkened.
— Cloud, Cloud! You are blocking the Sun. Are you stronger than it?
In response, the Cloud poured down heavy rain. Joyful streams began to run around. The Pheasant got soaked from the rain and shouted:
— Rain, Rain! Where do you get so much strength?
— Oh! — rustled the Rain. — If I were strong, I wouldn’t go under the Earth. It is stronger than all.
— Is that true? — asked the surprised Pheasant, looking down at the ground. — Are you the strongest in the world? The washed and seemingly rejuvenated Earth after the rain looked up at the blue sky. The heavy black cloud floated east, and the sun, generous and warm, gently shone on everyone. The Pheasant dried off in the sun, felt good and cheerful, and even managed to notice snowdrops on a hillock — they had broken through the ground and were stretching their tender heads towards the warmth and the sun.
— You ask who is stronger? — the Earth trembled beneath the Pheasant's feet. — Ask the snowdrops — they are the first messengers of spring. Spring comes, and everything in nature comes to life.
The curious Pheasant waddled over to the snowdrops on the hillock. They greeted him with bluish smiles.
— Snowdrop, Snowdrop! You were the first to break through the ground, do you have a drill?
— Is strength in a drill? — the Snowdrop shook its head. — The White Lamb is stronger than me — it walks on the ground, tramples and eats grass and flowers, and hits us with its hooves.
The Pheasant ran off to search for the white Lamb and soon met it in a green valley.
— Lamb, Lamb! You ruthlessly trample the snowdrops, tell me, are you really strong?
The white Lamb shook its head discontentedly: it was being pulled away from something very important — it was nibbling on juicy grass and was about to drink cool water from a mountain spring.
— You are mistaken, — the Lamb said to the Pheasant. — I am the most defenseless in the world. As soon as I see the gray Wolf, all four of my legs start to tremble. That is who is strong and scary! Don’t say his name! He might eat you too.
But our Pheasant was the bravest among all Pheasants, and he was not intimidated by the Lamb's words about the terrible bandit. He boldly rushed towards danger — to the cave where the gray Wolf lived.
At that moment, the gray Wolf, having feasted on the meat of a sheep he had slaughtered the day before, was sleeping in the cave and snoring so loudly that the stone vaults trembled.
The Pheasant called out to wake the predator. The Wolf's eyes sparkled with blue lightning from greed when he saw the easy prey that had flown right to him. The Wolf snapped his teeth hungrily. The Pheasant did not expect to see such a monster and, startled, slightly recoiled. Gathering his courage, he asked:
— Wolf, Wolf! You devour sheep and goats, foals and calves. How do you deal with them? Where do you get such strength?
The Wolf slowly and lazily got up on all fours, stretched so that all his bones cracked, shook himself off as if preparing to jump. The cautious bird took a few steps back again: it turned out the Lamb was right, the Wolf was no joke.
And the Wolf, as if burning with impatience, thumped his thick tail against his hind legs.
— I am strong and scary, — howled the Wolf, — but stronger than me is the Hunter's Gun. That is what I fear most in the world.
The Pheasant had never seen a Gun and hurried to the hunter's yurt in impatience. The owner of the house was not there, but the Gun hung in the corner on a nail, and one could talk to it as long as one wanted.
— Black Gun, accurate Gun! Your shot pierces the strong skin of the gray Wolf. He is very afraid of you. Please tell me, what is your strength?
— My strength is revealed during the hunt, — the Gun clicked its trigger. — The sound of the shot means that my master has ambushed his prey. That is why, when he returns from the hunt, he cleans me and oils me with tasty fat. But when the master leaves the yurt for his business, the brown ants pounce on the fat.
They tickle and gnaw at me — they will eat all the grease, I will rust and perish. They are stronger. Look for them. They are somewhere here, under the yurt.
The Pheasant quickly found the nest of the hardworking ants. They were busy cleaning their apartment. Not a single ant was sitting idle — they all worked together.
After cleaning their home, the ants began to carry seeds of cereal grasses — wild oats, bird buckwheat, lamb's quarters...
"They must be preparing for winter," thought the Pheasant and asked:
— Ant, Ant! You are so small, yet you carry grains larger than yourself. So, you are stronger than anyone on earth?
— Yes, I have strength, and quite a bit, — replied the Ant with dignity. — I can lift weights twice my own. But the Forest is stronger than us ants. It protects us from bad weather, so we hide under the canopy of trees from the rain and wind, from the severe frost and scorching sun. Do you know what giants the trees in the forest are?! They are the strongest and most powerful.
And the Pheasant set off to the Forest. The dense Forest rustled and hummed from the gusts of strong wind.
— Forest, Forest! I know that you are stronger than ants. Tell me, where does your strength come from?
— Nature has endowed me with such strength, — the Forest rustled. — I guard and protect all living things. Under my shelter, forest animals and birds, ants, and various bugs have found refuge. But I am not that strong.
— Who is stronger than you then?
— Man. If he wants, he will cut down trees, and if necessary, he will plant and grow new ones. Man cuts and saws trees, builds houses and ships from the forest, makes furniture, and creates toys.
And the Pheasant hurried to the Man. He was planing a long wooden board — making something for himself.
— Man, Man! They say you are the strongest in the world. Is that true?
Perhaps. A man can fulfill all dreams and desires. If I want, I will build a multi-story house and live in it, or I will build a ship and set sail across the seas and oceans. Who else can fulfill their desires like that? No one!
So, it turns out that the strong one is the one who builds and creates, who takes care of all living things on Earth. Or am I wrong?
Kyrgyz Tales