The Tiger and the Monkeys

The Tiger and the Monkeys

People say that in very ancient times, when animals still gathered for grand councils and argued almost as loudly as people at a market, the creatures of the forest could not decide who should keep order. The wild boar pushed everyone aside at the watering hole. The deer quarrelled over paths. The monkeys made such a racket in the treetops that even the parrots began to complain. At last, the animals gathered beneath a great tree. “We need a king,” they said. They did not have to think for long. The strongest creature among them was Tiger. He had mighty paws, sharp hearing, and a roar that made the leaves tremble on the branches. “Let Tiger be king!” the animals decided. Tiger was very pleased. He walked through the forest with his head held high and waited for everyone to give way before him. But there was one thing nobody said aloud: Tiger’s strength was great, while his curiosity about the world was very small. He rarely asked how other animals lived, what they could do, or what frightened them. He thought a king only needed to be strong, and that knowing anything else was unnecessary. One hot day, Tiger wandered through the forest for a long while. At last he lay down to rest beneath a spreading tree. The shade was cool, the breeze stirred the leaves, and Tiger was almost asleep when he heard a wonderful little song above his head. Tr-r-rie, trilly-lee, tr-r-rie… Tiger opened his eyes. “Who sings so beautifully?” he asked. He looked to the right. No one. He looked to the left. No one. Then he raised his head and saw a troop of monkeys in the branches. They were leaping, swinging by their tails, and tossing ripe fruit to one another. In truth, the song came from a tiny forest insect sitting on a leaf. All the monkeys knew its voice very well. But Tiger did not. “Hey!” he called upward. “Who is singing there?” The monkeys looked at one another. A young monkey, cheerful and far too fond of jokes, could not resist. “That is our youngest sister!” he said. The other monkeys almost fell from the branches. What have you done? their eyes seemed to say. But Tiger did not become angry. Instead, he sat up straighter. “What a lovely voice!” he declared. “If your sister is such a fine singer, I would like to meet her. And if she agrees, I may even ask her to marry me.” The monkeys coughed, spoke all at once, and began inventing excuses. “She is very shy!” “She does not like visitors!” “She is… um… busy today!” “And besides,” said the oldest monkey carefully, “you would first have to ask whether she wanted to meet you.” But Tiger was already imagining a grand celebration. “I will come when the moon is full,” he announced. “You make the preparations.” Then he went away, very satisfied with himself. The moment his striped tail vanished among the trees, the monkeys surrounded the young joker. “Now tell us where we are to find a sister who does not exist!” they said. “I was only joking,” he muttered. “A joke is good when everyone laughs afterward,” said the old monkey. “Now we must think.” The monkeys thought until evening. At last one of them suggested, “Let us make a figure out of clay. We can seat it under the tree, cover it with a veil, and say our ‘sister’ is very shy.” So that was what they did. For several days the monkeys kneaded soft clay and shaped a body, arms, and a head. The head would not stay in place, so they balanced it carefully on top. Then they dressed the figure with ribbons, leaves, and flowers, and hid its face beneath a light cloth. On the night of the full moon, the monkeys set out fruit, nuts, and fragrant leaves. From a distance, everything looked very festive. Tiger arrived early. He walked so grandly that he seemed to think the whole forest was watching only him. “Where is she?” he asked at once. The monkeys pointed silently to the clay figure. Tiger came closer. “Good evening,” he said politely. The clay figure said nothing. “I brought gifts.” Silence. Tiger glanced at the monkeys. “Why does she not answer me?” “She is… very shy,” said the young monkey, hiding behind his older brother. Tiger placed a gift beside the figure and spoke to her once more. “Do not be afraid. If you do not want to speak with me, simply say so.” The monkeys froze. It was far more sensible than they had expected from Tiger. But the clay “sister,” of course, could say nothing. Then Tiger noticed that a ribbon from the gift had caught on her clothes. “I will free it,” he said, and pulled very gently. The wobbly clay head tilted once, tilted twice, and plopped straight into the basket of fruit. For a moment, the forest was silent. Then all the monkeys cried out at once. “Oh!” “What have you done?” “This is all his fault!” Some monkeys threw dry leaves down to the ground. Others beat the branches. Still others screeched so loudly that Tiger could not make sense of anything. “Wait!” he roared. “She was made of clay!” At that moment, one little monkey could no longer hold back a laugh. Then another laughed. Then a third. Within a minute, the whole tree shook with laughter. Tiger finally understood: he had been fooled. He stamped one angry paw. The monkeys quickly climbed higher and began leaping from branch to branch. One dropped an empty shell; another shook down a shower of leaves. Tiger made a few leaps after them, but soon realized that monkeys were much quicker in the trees than he was. He stopped, breathing hard. “Very well!” he called upward. “You have won this time. But I will not believe the first answer anyone gives me again!” “And we will not invent relatives for a joke again!” called the old monkey. The young joker nodded sheepishly. Tiger went away. He was still annoyed, but as he walked, he thought about more than the monkeys. “I am king of the forest,” he said to himself. “Yet I did not even know what was singing on a leaf. Perhaps the strong must keep learning, too.” From then on, Tiger paid closer attention to the small inhabitants of the forest, and he was slower to make up his mind before he understood a thing. The monkeys laughed for a long time whenever they remembered their clay “sister.” But they also learned something: one careless joke can grow into a very large muddle. For strength without knowledge can become clumsy, and cleverness without responsibility is only another kind of trick.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨