Join us at the campfire for tales from around the world, told by storytellers of all backgrounds and creeds. From the heros and heroines of old, let us relearn and rediscover the wisdom of our ancestors. Shhh..the story begins..
It is chronicled in Slavic legend that the power of the Old World was in the shape of a pyramid, with the monarch at the apex and the commoners at the base of the structure. Such was the way of life, according to the ancients, of not only man but also those in the animal kingdom. It is also written that, before humans gained control of the earth, it was ruled by the beasts...and the lion presided as king over them all.
One of the greatest lions in Slavic folklore was once the Tsar of Russia. He was served by lesser creatures who bowed low in his presence for he was indeed very wise and possessed an awe-inspiring tone to his voice. The lion lived in magnificent splendor and owned not only an elegantly furnished summer home, but also a Winter Palace where the walls were hung with richly embroidered tapestries.
It was not, however, his sparkling jewels or his fine wine or his company of servants that the lion's subjects coveted. From the noble elk of the mountainous regions down to the lowly hare of the treeless steppes, each creature alike desired only one thing that the lion possessed and they did not...a tail.
The lion's tail was lissome and undulating and seemed to have a language unique to it alone. Sometimes it lashed out in anger and sometimes it curled and waved with pleasure. It was a handsome thing...sleek and fawn-colored, tipped with a splendid black plume.
One year during the early spring, as the snow drifts with which the Winter Palace was banked had slowly begun to melt, the Lion Tsar summoned his court together and bid them to make ready for the long journey to his Summer residence. As he traveled across the length and breadth of his land, the lion saw how much his loyal subjects suffered due to their lack of a tail.
He took note of how, when the bitter wind blew into the burrow, the silver fox had no thick, warm tail into which it could bury its small, black nose. Then, as the days grew milder, he noticed that flies bit greedily into the flesh of the horse, who was helpless against the onslaught. When he reached the steppes, he observed that the antelope had no tail to flutter and serve as a warning signal to others that the leopard was on the prowl...and, when the antelope took flight, how the leopard had no tail to twitch in anger and frustration. In the mountains, he heard the mournful bay of the red wolf, howling in sorrow because it had no tail to wag with joy. The Lion Tsar decided that as soon as he reached his Summer Palace, he would put an end to this misery and he decreed that each of his subjects would be given the benefit of a tail.
Immediately upon reaching his destination, he called a council of his most learned scholars, wiliest ministers and most powerful wizards. All were masters of their chosen arts and sciences and they were given the task of contemplating where in the world it might be possible to obtain tails. No stone was left unturned and no personage was considered to be too eccentric or too unconventional to be consulted.
The same question was posed to all. Where could tails be found for those who had been unfortunate enough to be born without one? Did they grow, as did the rushes, on the banks of the rivers? Could they be knitted, or spun, or woven? Could they be found buried in the earth of the mining areas, where tin and silver and rubies had been uncovered? Could they possibly be made by the artisans? There is no record existing of how long it took the Tsar to be furnished with an answer...but furnished with an answer he surely was, for some time later, under the blanket of night, a number of weighty coffers, massive jars and heavy baskets were transported into the palace and presented to the lion.
He opened each container in turn, examining with great interest the multitude of tails within. He ran his paw along each textured length and balanced them in order to judge their weight and substance. At last, the lion was satisified and, roaring upwards to the birds who circled the domed roof of his Summer Palace, commanded them to fly with due speed to deliver a message to all his subjects: Every beast who came at once to the palace would receive the tail that it desired. With a rush of wings, the birds obeyed his orders and flew across the lion's kingdom, brightly singing the missive they had been given.
The elk and the bull ceased their grazing and heard. Over the loud mewling of their young, the badger, the fox and the sable heard. The lynx and the leopard forsook the hunt, and heard...as did their prey, the hare and the reindeer. Soon, the birds had delivered their message to every creature in the land but one. No matter how high they flew, or how low they swooped, they were unable to find the bear.
The bear was not by the river, where it usually went to fish, and it was not in the heart of the forest, where it usually went to find the sweetest berries. Despairing of being able to track down the elusive bear, the birds headed back to the Summer Palace and it was then that they heard a snore which seemed to rumble from the very earth itself. Following the sound to its source, they came to the mouth of a rocky den. Inside was a fat ball of fur, snorting and growling softly. They had found the bear, but it was still lost in its Winter sleep. The birds pecked at its paws and dug their sharp talons into its back. Slowly, with a scratch and a stretch, the bear awoke and listened to the message from the Lion Tsar. It shook itself and trundled outside into the pale sunshine.
The road leading to the Summer Palace was muddied with the tracks of all the animals that had already hurriedly passed through on their way to see the Lion Tsar. The bear sniffed at the springtime air and caught the delicious scents of rain, grass, flowers and...honey. It was very hungry. It had eaten nothing during the long Winter months and it seemed as though the road to the Palace was a very long one.
The bear wandered from the path and followed the delectable aroma which assaulted his twitching nose until he came to a hollow lime tree some distance from the Palace road. In the topmost branches of the tree there was a beehive...heavy and dripping with sweet nectar. The bear feasted as honey ran down his chin and dribbled onto his dusty fur. Before long, the hive was empty and the bear was full.
Looking down at its sticky coat, the bear decided it could by no means appear in front of the Tsar in such a deplorable condition, so it shambled down to the nearby river and splashed away the patches of dried honey stuck to its fur...but the bear could not appear before the Tsar dripping wet either, so it lay down on the bank to dry itself in the sun. Its eyes began to droop and within the space of a few minutes, the bear had fallen back into a sound sleep.
Meanwhile, in the Palace, the animals were lining up to receive their tails. The column of creatures stretched from the foot of the lion's grand throne all the way to the outer gates. At the head of the procession was the fox. It had arrived first and begged to be allowed to choose first from the selection of tails. The Tsar agreed and beckoned the fox forward.
The fox held up one tail...then another...and then another. The gathering of animals gasped with delight as they saw curly tails, bushy tails, bristly tails and silky tails; tails of every hue and color imaginable...gold, russet, cream, black, white and silver. The fox made his choice--a luxurious brush tail--but there were many superb specimens left. The horse selected a long, swishing tail which would swat away the flies and the squirrel dug deep into one of the containers until it found a soft and thick tail which would keep out the cold. One by one, as the sun rose high in the sky and then sank low over the horizon, each animal came forward and chose the tail of its preference.
The Tsar's eyes were heavy with weariness by the time he beckoned to the last of those in line...it was the hare. The lion handed the only container which was left to the little creature, but it was empty, as were all the others. There were no tails remaining to be had, but the hare, peeking inside, scraped up a few scraps of fluff that clung to the bottom of the coffer and hopped away, well content with its new possession.
By now, the night air had grown cool and, on the riverbank, the bear woke up. It snuffled a little and then lumbered towards the Palace but when it got there, it found that all the windows were dark and the gates had been locked. With a bitter snarl, the bear turned back towards the woods and then it heard a sound coming from the shadows by the side of the road. Peering deep into the darkness, the bear could just make out the badger, who was twisting and turning...and admiring its new striped tail. The bear regarded it with much admiration too...although it seemed to be rather grand and gaudy for such a small animal.
The bear decided he would ask the badger to give the tail to him...and so, he voiced his request. The badger, intent upon examination of its fine new tail hardly gave the bear a second glance. Now such behaviour on the part of the badger was an act of extreme discourtesy, for the bear, by virtue of its size and strength, far outranked the lowly badger in the hierarchy of forest creatures.
The bear, already in a vexed mood, growled deeply and planted its massive paw on the tip of the badger's tail, but the badger would not so easily relinquish its prize. With a quick movement, the smaller creature wrenched free and fled, managing to take most of its tail with it. The bear was left with just a small tuft of fur caught beneath its heavy paw.
It was not much, to be sure, but it was better than nothing at all. The bear poked and prodded at the ragged lump of fur, finally patting it into a tail...albeit very small one. Then, with a great sigh, the bear fixed it onto the spot where it has, since that time, forever remained.