'But why? I like tending sheep better!'
'Oh, it is much nicer to be a goatherd,' she said; so he took the goats
out.
When he was gone, she said to her husband, 'You must kill my brother,
for I cannot have him living here with me.'
'But, my dear, why should I? He has done me no harm.'
'I wish you to kill him,' she answered, 'or if not I will leave.'
'Oh, all right, then,' said he; 'to-morrow I will change myself into a
serpent, and hide myself in the date barrel; and when he comes to fetch
dates I will sting him in the hand.'
'That will do very well,' said she.
When the sun was up next day, she called to her brother, 'Go and mind
the goats.'
'Yes, of course,' he replied; but the little boy called out: 'Uncle, I
want to come with you.'
'Delighted,' said the uncle, and they started together.
After they had got out of sight of the house the boy said to him, 'Dear
uncle, my father is going to kill you. He has changed himself into a
serpent, and has hidden himself in the date barrel. My mother has told
him to do it.'
'And what am I to do?' asked the uncle.
'I will tell you. When we bring the goats back to the house, and my
mother says to you, "I am sure you must be hungry: get a few dates out
of the cask," just say to me, "I am not feeling very well, Mohammed, you
go and get them for me."'
So when they reached the house the sister came out to meet them, saying,
'Dear brother, you must certainly be hungry: go and get a few dates.'
But he answered, 'I am not feeling very well. Mohammed, you go and get
them for me.'
'Of course I will,' replied the little boy, and ran at once to the cask.
'No, no,' his mother called after him; 'come here directly! Let your
uncle fetch them himself!'
But the boy would not listen, and crying out to her, 'I would rather get
them,' thrust his hand into the date cask.
Instead of the fruit, it struck against something cold and slimy, and he
whispered softly, 'Keep still; it is I, your son!'
Then he picked up his dates and went away to his uncle.
'Here they are, dear uncle; eat as many as you want.'
And his uncle ate them.
When he saw that the uncle did not mean to come near the cask, the
serpent crawled out and regained his proper shape.
'I am thankful I did not kill him,' he said to his wife; 'for, after
all, he is my brother-in-law, and it would have been a great sin!'
'Either you kill him or I leave you,' said she.
'Well, well!' sighed the man, 'to-morrow I will do it.'
The woman let that night go by without doing anything further, but at
daybreak she said to her brother, 'Get up, brother; it is time to take
the goats to pasture!'
'All right,' cried he.
'I will come with you, uncle,' called out the little boy.
'Yes, come along,' replied he.
But the mother ran up, saying, 'The child must not go out in this cold
or he will be ill;' to which he only answered, 'Nonsense! I am going, so
it is no use your talking! I _am_ going! I am! I am!'
'Then go!' she said.
And so they started, driving the goats in front of them.
When they reached the pasture the boy said to his uncle: 'Dear uncle,
this night my father means to kill you. While we are away he will creep
into your room and hide in the straw. Directly we get home my mother
will say to you, "Take that straw and give it to the sheep," and, if you
do, he will bite you.'
'Then what am I to do?' asked the man.
'Oh, do not be afraid, dear uncle! I will kill my father myself.'
'All right,' replied the uncle.
As they drove back the goats towards the house, the sister cried: 'Be
quick, dear brother, go and get me some straw for the sheep.'
'Let me go,' said the boy.
'You are not big enough; your uncle will get it,' replied she.
'We will both get it,' answered the boy; 'come, uncle, let us go and
fetch that straw!'
'All right,' replied the uncle, and they went to the door of the room.
'It seems very dark,' said the boy; 'I must go and get a light;' and
when he came back with one, he set fire to the straw, and the serpent
was burnt.
Then the mother broke into sobs and tears. 'Oh, you wretched boy! What
have you done? Your father was in that straw, and you have killed him!'
'Now, how was I to know that my father was lying in that straw, instead
of in the kitchen?' said the boy.
But his mother only wept the more, and sobbed out, 'From this day you
have no father. You must do without him as best you can!'
'Why did you marry a serpent?' asked the boy. 'I thought he was a man!
How did he learn those odd tricks?'
As the sun rose, she woke her brother, and said, 'Go and take the goats
to pasture!'
'I will come too,' said the little boy.
'Go then!' said his mother, and they went together.
On the way the boy began: 'Dear uncle, this night my mother means to
kill both of us, by poisoning us with the bones of the serpent, which
she will grind to powder and sprinkle in our food.'
'And what are we to do?' asked the uncle.
'I will kill _her_, dear uncle. I do not want either a father or a
mother like that!'
When they came home in the evening they saw the woman preparing supper,
and secretly scattering the powdered bones of the serpent on one side of
the dish. On the other, where she meant to eat herself, there was no
poison.
And the boy whispered to his uncle, 'Dear uncle, be sure you eat from
the same side of the dish as I do!'
'All right,' said the uncle.
So they all three sat down to the table, but before they helped
themselves the boy said, 'I am thirsty, mother; will you get me some
milk?'
'Very well,' said she, 'but you had better begin your supper.'
And when she came back with the milk they were both eating busily.
'Sit down and have something too,' said the boy, and she sat down and
helped herself from the dish, but at the very first moment she sank
dead upon the ground.
'She has got what she meant for us,' observed the boy; 'and now we will
sell all the sheep and cattle.'
So the sheep and cattle were sold, and the uncle and nephew took the
money and went to see the world.
For ten days they travelled through the desert, and then they came to a
place where the road parted in two.
'Uncle!' said the boy.
'Well, what is it?' replied he.
'You see these two roads? You must take one, and I the other; for the
time has come when we must part.'