|| A Chinese folktale ||
Just outside a Chinese city there lived a young woodcutter named T’ang and his old mother. They were very poor. Every day young T’ang went up on the mountain to cut firewood and sell in the city. He would then bring back food for his mother. Although they were poor, they were happy, for the mother and son loved each other.
One young T’ang went to the mountain as usual. All day long Widow T’ang waited patiently. The sun was sinking lower and lower in the west, but still he did not come. At last the old woman was frightened. “My poor son!” she muttered. “Something has happened to him.”
He did not come by dusk. “Woe is me!” moaned the woman. “My boy! my boy!” She took her crutch from its corner and limped off to a neighbour’s house to tell him of her trouble and beg him to go and look for the missing boy.
Now this neighbour was willing to help old Mother T’ang, for he felt very sorry for her. He walked slowly up the mountain path, looking carefully for signs of a struggle.
At last when he had gone half way up the slope he came to a little pile of torn clothing spattered with blood. The woodman’s axe was lying by the side of the path, also his carrying pole and some rope. There could be no mistake: after making a brave fight, the poor youth had been carried off by a tiger.
Gathering up the torn garments, the man went sadly down the hill. She did not need to be told what had happened. She gave a cry of despair and fainted.
No one could comfort her. “Alas!” she cried, “of what use is it to live? He was my only boy”. She wept, tore her hair, and beat her chest, until people said she had gone mad.
The next day, however, much to the surprise of her neighbours, she set out for the city, making her way along slowly by means of her crutch. It was a pitiful sight to see her, so old, so feeble, and so lonely.
In the city she asked her way to the public hall. At the city hall, she knelt at the gate, calling out loudly and telling of her ill-fortune. The mandarin, or city judge, heard the old woman wailing outside and had her brought in.
“What is the matter, old woman? Why do you raise such an uproar in front of my yamen?”
“I am old and feeble,” she began; “lame and almost blind. I have no money and I have lost my only son to a cruel tiger. I have come here to beg your worship punish the slayer of my son. Surely the law says that none may shed blood without giving his own blood in payment.”
“But, woman, are you mad?” cried the mandarin. “How can a tiger be brought to justice?” She would not be convinced. The hall echoed with the noise of her crying. “Hold! woman,” he cried, “I will do what you ask. Now go home!”
The judge was, of course, only trying to get rid of her thinking that once she leaves, he could give orders not to let her into the hall again. But the old woman was sharp. She refused to leave without seeing a signed order.
Turning to the assistants in the court room he asked which of them would be willing to go in search of the tiger.
One of these men, named Li-neng, had been leaning against the wall, half asleep. He had been drinking heavily and so had not heard what had been going on in the room. One of his friends gave him a poke in the ribs just as the judge asked for volunteers.
Thinking the judge had called him by name, he stepped forward, knelt on the floor, saying, “I, Li-neng, can go and do the will of your worship.” “Very well”, answered the judge, “go forth and do your duty.” So Widow T’ang thanked the mandarin and left.
Li-neng slept off his drunkenness, and was horrified when he realized what he signed up for. He tried to reason with the judge but the judge was in no mood to relent. “Find the tiger or you receive 50 lashes every 5 days for your drunken negligence”.
During the next few days Li-neng left no stone unturned. The best hunters in the country were employed. Night and day they searched the hills, but found nothing. Li-neng received 50 lashes every 5 days. Six weeks passed and now Li-neng feared the judge more than the tiger. He often planned to run away, but then his family would be punished if he escaped.
One day as he was searching, he came across a mountain temple. He started crying and praying before the great fierce-looking idol.
He heard a rustle and saw a huge tiger standing at the gate. Li-neng said, “Oh! come to eat me, have you? Well, I fear you would find my flesh a bit tough, since I have been beaten with four hundred blows during these six weeks. You are the same fellow that carried off the woodman last month, aren’t you? You must come with me to the city and answer the charge of killing the woodman.”
The animal made no effort to escape, but, on the contrary, seemed willing and ready to be captured. Then he followed the man quietly, bound in chains, down the mountain, through the crowded streets of the city, into the court room. All along the way there was great excitement. “The man-slaying tiger has been caught!,” shouted the people.
The crowd followed Li-neng into the hall of justice. When the judge walked in, every one became as quiet as the grave. All were filled with wonder at the strange sight of a magnificent beast in front a judge.
“Tiger,” said the mandarin, turning toward the tiger, “did you eat the woodman whom you are charged with killing?”
The tiger gravely nodded his head.
“You have robbed a helpless old woman of her only son. If you can promise to take the son’s place and support the woman in her old age, I am quite willing to spare you from a disgraceful death. What say you, will you accept my offer?”
The tiger nodded. So the tiger was set free and Widow T’ang went home grumbling. The people whispered, ” Poor thing! Now she can’t live for very long”
Next morning when the old woman went outside, she found a newly killed deer in front of her door. Her tiger-son had begun to keep his promise, for she could see the marks of his claws on the dead animal’s body. On the city streets next day she had no trouble in selling the flesh and skin for a handsome sum of money.
A week later the tiger came to her door with a roll of cloth and some money in his mouth. He dropped these new gifts at her feet and ran away without even waiting for her thank-you. The Widow T’ang now saw that the judge had acted wisely. She stopped grieving for her dead son and began to love in his stead the handsome animal that had come to take his place so willingly.
The tiger grew much attached to his foster-mother and often purred contentedly outside her door, waiting for her to come and stroke his soft fur. He no longer had the old desire to kill.
Year after year the two took care of each other.
The woman lived to a hundred years.
It is said that this story you just finished reading is engraved on her tombstone and can be found in China’s old city Yan’an even today.
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