Week 13 Story: Lori, Greg, and the Devil Himself

A canyon. (Flickr)

Two travellers, Lori and Greg, once came to a massive canyon while on a lengthy expedition. It was clear that they needed to cross the canyon, but neither knew how it might be done. The two argued for some time, and Lori became annoyed with Greg before long.

She exclaimed, “Oh, just hush. Why don’t you go hunt for our dinner while I consider this predicament.”

As Greg stormed off, Lori sat at the canyon’s edge and quietly cursed her companion. He never seemed to do anything but argue and whine. He was a very poor hunter, and in truth Lori had sent him away just to get some quiet. Still, the problem of crossing the canyon remained.

Lori heard footsteps behind her and thought it must be Greg on his return. She turned around to ask why he had returned so soon, and saw instead that it was a stranger in monk’s robes. Lori was very observant, and immediately recognized that he was the devil in disguise.

He spoke, “Hello, traveller! How goes it?”

Lori figured that it didn’t hurt to be honest. “It goes well enough, but I can’t think of how I might cross this canyon.”

The devil’s eyes lit up. “As a matter of fact, I am the world’s fastest brick mason! I would love to build you a bridge, but as a fee I’ll have to claim the first creature that crosses it.”

Lori knew that the devil would try to steal her soul if she crossed the bridge, but agreed anyways. The disguised swindler set to work immediately, and the bridge was finished just as Greg returned empty-handed from his hunt.
Lori rolled her eyes at Greg, but introduced him to the bridge builder. “This kind man built us a bridge! Since you’re so light without any game to weigh you down, maybe you should try crossing first.”

Greg did so indignantly, and no sooner did he reach the other side than did the devil snatch him up and take him to hell. Lori whistled as she crossed the bridge and continued on her way.



Author’s note: This story is based on the Welsh myth of “The Devil’s Bridge”. The legend has it that there once was a woman who was separated from her cow by a river. The Devil, disguised as a monk, built her a bridge in exchange for the first living thing to cross. The Devil expected her to cross the bridge without thinking, but she tricked him by sending her dog across. In my story, the woman is a bit more mischievous and sends her travelling companion to hell in exchange for safe passage.

Bibliography. The Welsh Fairy Book by Jenkyn Thomas. Web Link.

Week 12 Story: Beowulf's Race

“On your marks! Start!”

With that announcement, Beowulf and Breca bounded into the raging sea, each man determined to best the other in a treacherous swimming race. The rules were simple: first to the far shore would be declared victor. A testament to the courage of the two men, the route was several days’ swim even in good weather; yet presently a storm raged on, churning the sea and provoking great waves. The sky was blackened by grim clouds. This would be Beowulf’s first true test of might. He had been challenged by his compatriot Breca as a means to prove his alleged strength and bravery.

Beowulf took an immediate lead, nearly unfettered by the crashing waves that pushed back at his progress. It should be said that both men were fully equipped with armor and weapons against the legendary beasts said to lurk these waters. Though it was uncomfortable to swim in such conditions, Beowulf was a man of such strength that he was able to press on at an impressive speed.

For the first day, the greatest obstacle Beowulf faced was the sea itself. Even he was brought near exhaustion by his navigation of the unrelenting waters. After some time, he pause to take in his surroundings. Breca was nowhere to be seen, nor was the shore of home. Black sky and black waters raged with equal intensity. Beowulf swam through the night and only when dawn broke did the storm begin to calm. Fatigued, he calmed his pace as the waved subdued.

He wasn’t able to relax for long.

Many yards in front of him, he saw a great many bubbles breaking against the water’s surface. There was something breathing beneath the sea, and perhaps it was coming up for air. Beowulf braced himself and readied his sword in preparation. Soon enough, a serpent’s head came crashing into the open air, staring at Beowulf through slit eyes. Its scales were oily and green, and it opened its mouth to reveal fangs like daggers.

A sea monster (Wikimedia Commons)

The appearance of this sea monster was enough to rejuvenate Beowulf as he charged to make the first attack. He attempted to strike the serpent, but narrowly missed as the creature darted behind him. A whip of its tail knocked the steel helmet from Beowulf’s head. Beowulf turned to protect his skull against the next strike, and quickly slashed at the tail that made a second attempt at his head. As quickly as the battle had begun, it was over: the serpent, cut in two, sank to the bottom of the sea with one last hiss.

Though he made the attempt to swim onward, he was drained of all energy after the rush of battle slowly faded. At length he went limp in sleep, carried by the waves to an unknown shore. When he awoke days later, he knew not yet that he was the victor in a most honorably contested race.



Author’s Note: In The Story of Beowulf, some reference is made to a race between Beowulf and Breca. Until Beowulf battles with Grendel, the race is his only real claim to fame. I decided to write out how it might have gone! The legend tells of massive waves and sea monsters in a several-day race, and I tried to be true to that.

Bibliography. The Story of Beowulf by Strafford Riggs. Web Link.

Week 11 Story: The Disobedient Sons

A member of the Crow Nation. (Wikimedia Commons)

There once lived a father, a mother, and two boys. The father knew his boys were clever, but also knew that they were lazy and would do anything to get out of honest work.

A cruel old woman lived at the top of a hill with her boiling kettle, and any time someone came too close, she’d snatch them up and cook them. Meanwhile, the father and his family had nothing to cook with. The father considered the ways by which he might steal the kettle from the cruel hag.

At last, he came to a devious solution. He called his boys to him and instructed, “By no means are you to visit the top of that hill, for there’s an evil woman there who will boil you alive.”

The boys were mischievous by nature, and of course had to disobey their father’s instructions. They went to the top of the hill and dumped the kettle over on the old woman while she slept, killing her. They proudly returned the kettle to their mother and father.

The father had to pretend to scold the two boys, even though his plan worked perfectly. He had another job for his sons: to bring back delicious snake meat for boiling in their new kettle. This time, he instructed the two, “By no means are you to go on the other side of that hill, for there is a dangerous monster who will do you great harm.”

Of course, the boys’ curiosity was so strong that they had to go over the hill and see what the great danger was. They found a monstrous green snake, bigger than either of them. Before the snake noticed the boys, they hatched a plan. The younger child would distract the snake while the other stabbed it in the heart through it’s back.

“Oh great snake, look here!” the younger boy shouted.

The snake turned around and took notice of the child, slowly slithering closer.

“Yes, great snake! Come nearer so I may pet your scales!”

The snake drew closer slowly and hungrily, but before he got too near, the older boy stabbed him in the heart. The children brought the snake back to their family, and again the father had to pretend to scold them.

On and on this went, and the two sons never suspected their father’s true intentions, content with their chore-free life.



Author’s note: In the original Crow myth, “Lodge-Boy and Thrown-Away”, two sons constantly disobey their father’s orders. The story is told from the perspective of the boys, so the father’s true intentions are obscure. I thought it was funny that after each time they broke a rule, the father would give them a new rule (which was quickly broken). I thought it would be interesting if having his rules broken was the father’s intent all along!

Bibliography. Tales of the North American Indians by Stith Thompson. Web Link.

Week 10 Story: How Rabbit Got Long Ears

One morning, just after sunrise, Rabbit found himself hungry for breakfast. The plains were rich with grasses, but Rabbit was very choosy. He wanted only the best grass to eat. He hopped around in search of quality grass, but everything he found was mediocre. Rabbit eventually saw Coyote and Fox talking in the distance. He wondered if they might be talking about top-shelf grass, but didn’t dare approach and risk his life to these predators. This was when Rabbit had small ears, and he couldn’t hear the two from his vantage. Rabbit decided to pull on his ears to stretch them out. The stretching hurt Rabbit, but he made his ears a medium length: long enough to hear the conversation between Coyote and Fox.

Rabbit could hear coyote ask, “Fox, this is a very specific question out of character for my species, but have you seen any good grass lately? I’m asking for a friend.”

Fox replied, “Coyote, you don’t have to be shy with me. As a matter of fact, I have found some prime grass! I’ll have to whisper the location to you, it’s in a secret place. Last time I found some good grass, Rabbit ate it all.”

Very quickly, rabbit stretched his ears even further so he could hear Fox’s whisper. Now, they were very long and stuck up like sprouts.

Fox whispered, “The best grass is just north of here, across the river.” Coyote thanked him and the two animals began another conversation completely unrelated to vegetation.

Rabbit was very happy with himself and hopped north. At the river, he stopped to look at his reflection in the water. His ears were very long now, but he rather liked the new look. Soon he found the promised grass, and ate his fill until he fell asleep happily.

This is why Rabbit now has very long ears.



Author’s note: In the Native American mythology of the Great Plains, animal species are personified as single characters. In this week’s reading, there were a few “origin stories” of some animals’ defining features. My story plays on existing stories of Rabbit, who tends to be sneaky, crafty, and a little self-serving. I decided I’d make up a story explaining how Rabbit’s ears got to be so long.

Bibliography. Myths and Legends of the Great Plains by Katharine Berry Judson. Web Link.
Photo: A rabbit eating grass, taken by M. L. Haen. Wikimedia Commons.

Week 9 Story: The Ever-Shrinking City

Once there was a well-populated fortress city surrounded by acres of open savanna. The people of the city didn’t know much of keeping livestock, and preferred to hunt for their food. For generations this was very lucrative. Bands of hunters would travel the surrounding region with falcons and dogs, always bringing back plenty of meat.

A falconer on a horse. (Wikimedia Commons)

After a while, these hunts would begin to return less and less meat for the city’s population. When at last the once-plentiful large game was made extinct, there was much bickering among the city’s leaders. Some suggested a new vegetarian diet. Others wanted to pack up and move to some untouched land. At last, a magician offered a solution.

“By my magic, I can make this city—and everyone in it—a quarter of the size that it is now. A family might then survive a month on a single prairie dog.”

There was widespread agreement that nobody would be able to tell the difference between the old and new sizes except where hunting was concerned. After all, there were no nearby cities to contend with. So the population agreed that the magician should shrink the city. When he did, all was well for years. People feasted on rats and prairie dogs, but otherwise carried on as though nothing had changed.

Eventually, even the small mammals were driven to extinction and again the city went hungry. The people appealed to the magician to use his magic once more, so that the city would be a thirtieth of its original size. This way, they could live on the plentiful bugs and worms. The magician agreed, and again the city had plenty to eat once the people grew accustomed to eating insects.

Of course, the hunters, with their tiny falcons and dogs, were so effective in their work that there were soon be no bugs to be found nearby. The magician had unfortunately by then drowned in a puddle, so there was no option left but to become a tiny nomadic hunters, clearing distant lands of bugs and vermin.



Author’s note: the Chinese myth “The Little Hunting Dog” features a travelling band of tiny soldiers who hunt down flies and other bugs. The story doesn’t give any explanation about where they come from, so I decided to offer a backstory. The ending of my story is consistent with a common theme of the Chinese myths that I read, which tend to have a “and that’s that” abrupt closing.


Bibliography. The Chinese Fairy Book, edited by R. Wilhelm and translated by Frederick H. Martens. Web Link.

Week 7 Story: To Trap a Tanuki

A tanuki in a forest. (pxhere)

A lone traveler on his journey through a forest once encountered a tanuki sleeping against the trunk of a tree.

"What luck!" he said to himself, "If I capture this wily beast, he will have to teach me his magic."

So the traveler drew rope around the tanuki's limbs before it could wake up, and as the tanuki was roused from slumber he hung the magical animal from a low branch.

The tanuki spoke angrily after assessing its situation, "Man, undo these restraints! Do you not know that we tanuki are endangered? I fear you will face a great fine if you intend to slay me."

The clever traveler called the tanuki's bluff, knowing these creatures to be clever and dishonest. "Nonsense! I don't intend to slay you, but I demand you teach me your transformative magic before I let you go."

The tanuki thought briefly, then smiled wide. "It's a deal, Man. First, I will teach you how to transform into a fox."

The tanuki taught the man a secret motion and incantation, and no sooner did he try it for himself than he became a fox. the foxy traveler howled in excitement, "Oh wise tanuki, teach me another form!"

"With pleasure, but I first ask that you free me from this uncomfortable position."

The once-man-now-fox undid the knots that bound the tanuki to the branch, and it gracefully dropped to the forest floor. "Thank you, kind Man. Now, I will teach you how to become a hare."

As before, the traveler copied the motions and incantations taught to him by the tanuki and so became a hare. He excitedly spoke, "Friendly tanuki, you've taught me much. If you show me but one more form, I will be content to let you sleep."

The tanuki grinned mischievously, though the once-"once-man-now-fox"-now-hare didn't notice. "For your final lesson, I will teach you how to become a bird."

Just as quickly as the hare followed the instructions and became a bird, the tanuki lept forward and gobbled up its winged prey. Licking its lips, it returned to sleep, muttering softly about the foolishness of men.



Author's Note: Tanuki are real animals also called "raccoon dogs", but they hold a special place in Japanese myth as magical tricksters with transformative powers. In the original stories, tanuki transform into everything from kettles to human beings, and are always causing trouble. In my story, I blended in an "Icarus-esque" moral lesson about quitting while you're ahead, especially when dealing with something as dangerous as a tanuki.

Bibliography: The Crimson Fairy Book by Andrew Lang. Web Source.

Week 5 Story: The Fisherman and the Goblin

Along a wide gulf there existed a kingdom called Stone Kingdom, named for its steadfastness and resilience. There were many fishermen who sailed out into the gulf day after day to reap a bounty of delicious tuna. One such fisherman was named Strength, and he was fitting of his name. One day while Strength was out fishing, he felt a tug on his line that he knew belonged to something heavier than a tuna fish. Excited, he braced himself and reeled in his line as aggressively as he could. After a great struggle, at last his catch flopped into the small boat. Strength realized that it wasn’t a fish at all, but a man’s corpse.

As Strength was about to dump the body back overboard, it began to speak of its own accord. “Humble fisherman, I beg that you reconsider. If you take me to shore, I will reward you with magic power.”

Strength knew that these were a goblin’s words, and quietly he settled the body into a corner of his small boat. He suspected that the goblin would offer a riddle as he began rowing to shore, and sure enough the goblin spoke again before too long. “Let me tell run a puzzle by you to occupy our time.”

The goblin began, “There once lived a strong fisherman from a kingdom called Stone Kingdom. While out fishing, this fisherman found a goblin who promised him magic power in exchange for a trip to shore. On their way, the goblin asked the fisherman a tricky riddle. Did the fisherman answer ‘no’ to the riddle?”

Strength was no fool, and recognized that the goblin was describing their current situation. He did not know how to answer the goblin’s question, however. “Yes” was surely the wrong answer, because then the answer would be “no”. “No” was also incorrect, because then the answer would be “yes”. Strength stopped to consider the question further. At last, he had his answer.

“Nope.” said Strength, smiling. The goblin laughed and lept overboard. Strength readied his line, determined to catch the goblin once more.



Author’s note: This story is based on the traditional Sanskrit tale Twenty-Two Goblins. The original story features a goblin who asks a wise king a series of riddles. For every riddle the king answers correctly, the goblin runs away and has to be retrieved again. However, if the king refuses to answer the riddle, his head explodes. This continues until the king is honestly stumped. The riddle in my story is much shorter than those in the original, and the framing tale takes precedence. I wanted to throw in a paradox that the fisherman is able to solve in a really cheesy way.

Bibliography. Twenty-Two Goblins, translated by Arthur Ryder. Web Link.
Photo: Fisherman on a boat. Wikimedia Commons.

Week 4 Story: Pleasure's Quest

Pleasure, a goddess of radiant allure, bred of once-mortal Psyche and Cupid himself, sat listlessly in the bedroom of her heavenly mansion. Though she lived in decadence, Pleasure found herself deprived of that one thing which rouses excitement like no other; the call to adventure. Her mother would often recount the tale of her own passionate quest, as this was the story of Pleasure’s divine birth. Still the family insisted on maintaining appearances, and Pleasure was scarcely allowed to walk among mortals for her grandmother Venus’s fears of what may happen.

Having mulled over her predicament, Pleasure at once lept from her bed, speaking with passionate words, “Nevermind Venus, and nevermind the rest of this family if they too conspire to stifle my instincts. I will travel to the land of mortals, walk among them, and accomplish some great task. When I return, though their ire may be immediate, it will wane with equal haste when they bear witness to my feat.”

Though known as the goddess of sensuality and hedonism, only by her cunning and persuasive nature was Pleasure able to act on these drives. As she whistled for honorable Zephyr, she concocted the means by which she may use these same skills in her present endeavor. Zephyr soon arrived, softly billowing as Pleasure stepped aboard and sweetly commanded, “Ever-reliable Zephyr, carry me to Vulcan’s forge, where I may find preparedness for any confrontations that may arise on my expedition.”

Dutiful zephyr obliged without hesitation, remembering well the role it played in Pleasure’s conception. Soaring quickly through richly colored heavens, the eager goddess soon arrived at her grandfather’s stately forge.

Pleasure called out over the clatter of great immortal machinery, “Grandfather Vulcan, whose metalwork is so widely renowned by gods and mortals alike, whose violent instruments inspire acts of legend, it is I: Pleasure, daughter of Cupid. His arrows, by your handiwork, have wrought many a tale. I have come to humbly request a legendary weapon to call my own.”

At this, thick-bearded Vulcan revealed himself from behind a roaring furnace. “Pleasure, sweet granddaughter, you flatter me with your admiration and I find myself amenable to your request. Still, I wonder why it is that you require such a thing. You spend your days in safety at the insistence of your grandmother, and should find no use for a tool of warfare.”

A statue of Vulcan by Herman Wilhelm Bissen (Wikimedia Commons)

“And what of some unwanted intruder who, drawn in either by my beauty or my riches, might seek to defile the safety and comfort of my abode?” asked Pleasure, slyly and successfully appealing to the the forge god’s protective instincts. Vulcan nodded and instructed Pleasure to wait patiently as he took hammer to anvil.

When at last he finished his creation, Vulcan called for Pleasure’s attention. He proudly showed her a magnificent sword, with a slender crimson blade and golden hilt. Handing the sword to Pleasure, he explained: “While strong and sharp enough to inspire fear in the bravest of soldiers, even a gentle touch of this blade against skin is fit to send an intruder into a debilitating fit of rapture.”

Pleasure thanked her proud grandfather, marvelling at her newfound lethal treasure. This is a fine assurance that I am to be successful in my aim, she thought. Fate would have contrary plans.



Author’s Note: This story is a continuation of Apuleius’s “Cupid and Psyche”. In that story, a love affair between the titular characters turns sour and attracts the ire of Venus, Cupid’s mother. Other characters that are featured in both stories are Vulcan (Venus’s husband and god of the forge) and Zephyr (the personification of western wind). All is well at the conclusion of Apuleius’s tale, and Pleasure is born to the couple. In my story, Pleasure takes on the lead role, eager to embark on her own exciting quest. One storytelling feature I borrow from “Cupid and Psyche” is the heavy foreshadowing, which here concludes the first part of Pleasure’s story and acts as a kind of cliffhanger.

Bibliography. "Cupid and Psyche" from The Golden Ass, written by Apuleius and translated by Tony Kline. Web Link.

Week 3 Story: Diblobius and the Demon

My companions and I found ourselves in a strange land on our travels. It was heavily forested, and only the most tenacious rays of sunlight shone through the occluding foliage. In the distance, we saw great demons with long, spindly limbs climbing from tree to tree near the canopy. There, high among the trees, bright ripe fruits—the likes of which we had never seen—taunted us in our hunger.

“Good and honest friends,” I addressed my companions, “We’ve no choice but to ascend the branches of these great trees and retrieve a bounty of fruits”

Gemone, speaker of caution, son of Firbonir, opened his idiot mouth to ask “What about those demons though?”

“Be silent Gemone, speaker of caution, son of Firbonir. Perhaps these demons will be generous and receptive to our company.”

So we began to climb the nearest tree, its thick branches supporting our weight without strain. When at last we reached the canopy, we moved from one tree to another towards the thin limbed demons and the fruits they guarded. One member of our ranks, Glemetra, of much wealth, daughter of Heirbirt, slipped and fell to the forest floor where her bones did shatter. My companions and I wept golf-ball-sized tears but pressed on.

When at last we were in earshot of the demons I called out “Hark! I am Diblobius, seeker of truth, heir to several thrones, son of Biromon. My companions and I seek the fruits that you guard for we are very hungry.”

One demon approached us quickly, deftly climbing with his slender arms and legs. “Hello Diblobius, seeker of truth, heir to several thrones, son of Biromon. I too am hungry, and your gang of intruders looks like a fitting meal!”

One by one this great demon reached out and devoured my companions as we clutched the tree in fear. Though this trial was daunting, I had a plan and reached into my pocket to pull out a sinister flask of poison.

I spoke with jet-powered words. “My demonic friend, spare the rest of my company and I will offer you a drink of the finest quality to wash down your ill-gotten meal.”

The demon snatched the flask from my hand and poured its contents down his throat. Immediately his grip on the tree loosened and in time he fell to the ground where his bones did shatter. What few of my companions were left alive sighed relief through their tennis-ball sized tears.

I spoke, “Do not hang your heads in grief. Though we lost many allies to the trials of this forrest, by my cunning we shall feast on demon flesh tonight”. My fellow travellers managed a weak cheer before following me down the tree to claim our meal.



Author’s Note: This story was based on Homer’s Odyssey, specifically the encounter between Odysseus and a cyclops. Odysseus is trapped by the cyclops and his party is eaten over the course of days until he fools the giant monster and blinds him with a stake. My story follows a similar plot and includes the thematic elements of personification of nature, respect for title and heritage, and visceral description of grief.

Bibliography. Odyssey by Homer, translated by Tony Kline. Web Link.

Photo: A fruiting palm tree. (Public Domain Pictures)

Week 2 Story: David's Nutty Winter

There once lived a kind, wise squirrel named David in a dense northern forrest. Being that winter was fast approaching, he and the others of his kind were busily storing nuts away in their reserves. The nut selection was pretty sparse this year, and the ever-thoughtful David knew that there would be many squirrels unable to sufficiently stock their dens.

David decided, “I’ve lived a good life, maybe it’s best that I share my bounty of nuts with those in need.” He visited the neighboring dens one by one, taking his whole stash along.

He stopped at the first den and sang “Hello friends! I have nuts to spare, take something nutty if you care!”

The other squirrels thought this was a bit degrading, but they were facing down the barrel of starvation so they accepted his offer and took some nuts with gratitude.

A nearby grazing deer saw David’s act of generosity and approached him, congratulating his selfless act. “I’ll remember this, David!” she said before returning to her grazing spot.

David continued to a second den and sang “Buddies! Pals! Take my Nuts! I have plenty so here’s your cut!”

The family of squirrels gladly took some tree nuts and acorns, as a cardinal looked on with admiration. The cardinal flew down from her perch and said “David, your kindness is unmatched. I won’t even need to fly south because you’ve warmed my avian heart.”

David nodded and continued to the next den, where he sang “Nuts are great, nuts are tasty, please take mine and please be hasty!” As he was handing nuts to the den’s inhabitants, a hare passed by and said “David, you’re a credit to squirrel-kind”. David smiled at the hare before moving along.

After several more such encounters, David came to a harrowing realization that he had forgotten to earmark any nuts for his own consumption. “Aw, nuts,” he said, realizing that he would likely starve this winter. David was far too prideful of a squirrel to ask for his gifts back. He headed back to his den, happy that he could help his neighbors but troubled by his own situation.

Days later, a very hungry David rested outside his den. The same deer which witnessed his earlier act of kindness passed by, taking immediate concern at David’s emaciated figure. “David, you look awful!” the deer cried. Remembering that David would have done the same for her, she offered, “I can bring you some of the tastiest grasses from the far neck of the woods”.

David wasn’t the grass-eating type but his stomach rumbled and he accepted the offer. The deer trotted off in search of the promised sustenance.

Before the deer returned, the cardinal flew by and noticed David looking worse for wear. She swooped down and offered to fetch david some bird seed she had been saving in her nest for a special occasion. After all, it was the least she could do for such a generous squirrel. David humbly accepted, happy to have such good friends, and the cardinal flew away to retrieve the seed.

Soon enough, David was visited by the hare. David rolled his eyes before the hare had a chance to speak and chided, “Buddha, we’ve been over this, I’m not going to eat your flesh, that’s super weird and it makes everyone uncomfortable.” The hare, rejected and dejected, hopped away.

With the help of his less-weird friends, David was able to make it through the winter, having instilled a culture of mutual generosity in the woodland community.

Author's Note: This story was based on the Buddhist fable of "The Hare that Was not Afraid to Die". The titular hare of this fable preaches that in order to be virtuous, the other woodland animals should give their food to the needy and fast. The hare in that story, and incarnation of Buddha, offers to sacrifice himself so that a hungry traveler may eat. The same hare makes his way into my story, but not as the main character. In a twist, the story of David the squirrel teaches that generosity is often reciprocated, and giving to others in their time of need can yield karmic returns when the tables turn.

Bibliography. "The Hare that Was not Afraid to Die" from Eastern Stories and Legends by Marie L. Shedlock. (Web Source)
Photo: Squirrel eating a nut. (Source: Max Pixel)