The Country of the Mice

The Country of the Mice

Once, in a great country, thousands and thousands of mice lived. They made their homes near fields and granaries, gathered grains left after harvest, and usually did not know hunger.

But one year the harvest was very poor. Autumn passed, winter drew near, and the little mouse storehouses grew emptier and emptier.

Then the King of the Mice called a council.

“If we simply sit and wait, our stores will not last,” he said. “I will go to the human king and ask to borrow grain. After the next harvest, we will return it all.”

The King of the Mice dressed as grandly as he could and set out for the palace. Instead of a great ceremonial scarf, he carried a thin silk thread, the sort a little mouse could bear.

At the gate, a guard bent down in surprise.

“Where are you going?”

“To see the king. I have an important request.”

When the human king heard that the King of the Mice wished to be received, he smiled, but ordered that the visitor be admitted.

The mouse walked solemnly through the great hall, laid his silk thread before the king, and said, “This year we have had poor luck with our harvest. By spring we may have no food. Please lend us grain. Next year, we will return every last kernel.”

“And how much do you need?” asked the king.

“One great storehouse of barley.”

The king raised his eyebrows.

“A whole storehouse? How will such little creatures carry it away?”

The King of the Mice bowed.

“Do not worry about that. If you allow us to take the grain, we will manage it ourselves.”

The king agreed and ordered one of the great storehouses opened.

That night, the whole country of mice streamed toward it. One mouse carried a kernel in her teeth, another bore several grains on his back, and a third rolled a barley grain in front of him. They worked quietly, together, and without rest.

By morning, the storehouse was empty.

“Incredible,” said the king when he saw it. “I have underestimated my little neighbours.”

In spring, when the new harvest came, the King of the Mice kept his word. The mice returned the borrowed grain and added a little more as a sign of gratitude.

From then on, the human king knew that mice were not merely small and swift. They were dependable too.

Some time passed. One day, an army from a neighbouring ruler gathered on the far bank of a great river. It was preparing to cross the water and seize the country by force.

The human king was greatly troubled. The opponents were far more numerous.

News quickly reached the mouse holes.

“This king once helped us,” said the King of the Mice. “Now it is our turn to help him.”

He went to the palace again.

“I see that you are worried,” he said to the king. “Allow us to repay your old kindness.”

The human king was surprised.

“But what can mice do against such a great army?”

The King of the Mice was not offended.

“Once before, you doubted that we could carry away a whole storehouse of grain. Then you saw that together, we can do more than anyone expects. Trust us this time as well.”

“Very well,” said the king. “What do you need?”

“By tomorrow evening, place many short sticks along the riverbank. And if our plan succeeds, help us with two old troubles.”

“What troubles?”

“The first is flooding. Our holes stand low by the river, and the water often fills them. Build a strong bank to hold it back. The second is cats. In the lands where our families live, keep them away from the mouse settlements.”

The king promised.

The next evening, the bank was covered with sticks. When darkness fell, hundreds of thousands of mice came to the river.

“Two or three to each one!” commanded the King of the Mice.

Stick after stick floated across the water like a tiny fleet.

On the far bank, the camp was asleep. The mice did not touch the people. Instead, they set to work on everything that could help the army move in the morning. They nibbled through straps, ropes, and bowstrings, mixed up the equipment, carried supplies away, and made such a muddle that nothing could be found.

After a few hours, the King of the Mice whistled, and the whole little company returned as quietly as it had come.

In the morning, an uproar rose in the other camp.

“Where is my rope?”

“Who spilled the grain?”

“Why is the equipment all ruined?”

Everyone searched for someone to blame, argued, and hurried about. The preparations for crossing the river stopped. And when trumpets from the king’s guard sounded on the other bank, the neighbouring ruler decided not to risk it and led the army away.

So the country avoided a great battle.

The human king summoned the King of the Mice and bowed low.

“Today your small strength saved many people from great trouble. I remember our agreement.”

Soon a strong embankment was built along the river, so that water would not flood the mouse holes. And in the places where mouse families lived, the king ordered cats kept away, so the little neighbours could be safe.

They say that afterward, people left the mice a little grain after each harvest.

And the King of the Mice often said to his children and grandchildren, “Do not measure strength by size. When many small ones do a good thing together, the result can be very great.”

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨