When the Farmer Calls a Hunter

A prominent farmer wandered the local market, running into another farmer.  The other farmer said, “I’ve sighted wolves near the forest between our lands.  Be careful.  I don’t know how many there are.  They could become dangerous.”  The farmer replied, “Thank you for the information.  I will see what I can do.”

The farmer brought two sheepdogs to his farm to protect his sheep.  He believed in being prepared and could use the extra help in controlling the sheep around the pasture.  One day, the wolves attacked.  One sheepdog fought them and was wounded.  The other sheepdog, believing its life more important, ran away.  Two sheep died because of the cowardice sheepdog.

The farmer now had a new problem.  His good sheepdog was injured and there were surely more wolves.  He now only had a useless sheepdog that refused to fight, though it would still control the sheep; its spine only strong enough to bend the will of weaker animals.  The farmer had to make a new plan, since his farms guardians could not contain the evils of the woods, for the farmer knew nothing of fighting.

He contacted the local hunter, a warrior, well versed in killing.  He told the hunter he would pay him to destroy the wolves.  The hunter said, “I will use traps and take them out easily.”  The farmer said, “No.  My sheep fear traps. I fear traps. They are not humane. You must engage the wolves on my terms.  You must sign this contract.”  The hunter signed and said, “This agreement may get me injured.  If that happens, due to your instructions, you will be held responsible.”  The farmer retorted, “As long as my sheep having nothing to fear, I am fine with what may come.”

The hunter delved into the dark woods, searching for the wolf pack.  He found them in a heavily dense area; one he could not well maneuver in.  They hide within a lingering fog, gliding low to the ground.  He readied for the assault as he knew it was too late.  The wolves had the upper hand, trapping him with their numbers.  They leapt at him, causing his face to be maimed, his body torn, and his anger to rise.  His weapon fired; his blade swiftly stabbed.  He killed all of the wolves, taking their pelts as proof.  Weary and spent, he began his journey back.

When the hunter returned to the farm, he wore the wolf fur across his shoulders.  The rest were bound and wrapped above his pack.  The sheep were horrified.  The farmer rushed out to meet him, seeing the shock in his flocks’ eyes.  “Don’t scare my sheep! Why do you wear such trophies?  I will compensate you for your losses, but please hide the blood and fur,” he wailed.  The hunter stood before the farmer and replied, “Killing is not the business of sheep.”

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