A Tale of Wit, Deception, and Cleverness | Votra Inc.
Once upon a time, there was a father with three sons. He had nothing to his name except his soul, a crumbling hut, a horse, a saddle, and a bridle. As he neared the end of his life, he called his sons and said:
— “I am dying and have no wealth to leave you. But live with honor, stand by one another, and according to your age, the eldest shall take the horse, the second shall take the saddle, and the youngest shall take the bridle.”
The father passed away, and soon after, the eldest son decided to venture out with his horse in search of fortune.
While traveling, he met a wealthy merchant.
— “Good fortune to you!”
— “And to you as well! What brings you to these lands?” asked the merchant.
— “I am searching for a saddle and bridle for my horse,” the young man replied.
— “I will give you both,” said the merchant, “but only if you can tell me one hundred lies without a single truth. If you fail, the horse becomes mine.”
The eldest brother agreed but could only tell thirty lies before running out of ideas, losing his horse to the merchant.
The Second Brother’s Attempt
Seeing his brother’s failure, the second son took the saddle and set out on a journey to win back the horse and the bridle.
He encountered the same merchant and was given the same challenge.
— “If you can tell me one hundred lies without a single truth, I will return your brother’s horse and give you the bridle. But if you fail, the saddle will be mine.”
The second brother tried but only managed to tell fifty lies before he, too, lost the saddle.
The Clever Youngest Brother
The youngest brother, bald-headed but incredibly clever, took the bridle and set off to win back what had been lost.
He met the same merchant and confidently said:
— “I have heard that you challenge people to win with lies. Let’s see if you can take my bridle, or if I will take your horse and saddle instead!”
— “Very well,” said the merchant. “Start your lies, but remember—one hundred lies, not a single truth!”
And so, the clever young man began his tale:
— “One morning, I woke up, but it wasn’t morning. There were bees, but there weren’t any. I counted them, but I didn’t. I counted them again, but I still couldn’t count them all. I went to count the flies of a single bee, and I realized one was missing.
This troubled me greatly, so I took a needle and a seed and went to the edge of the sea. When I arrived, I looked for the missing fly but couldn’t find it. So, I stuck the needle into the ground, climbed on top of it, and from across the black sea, I saw a farmer plowing his land with an ox and a bee. I immediately recognized it as my missing bee!
I had no way to cross the sea, so I planted the seed, fell asleep, and by the time I woke up, the seed had grown into a vine stretching all the way across the sea. I climbed across the vine and confronted the farmer.
— ‘Good fortune to you!’
— ‘And to you as well!’
— ‘Why have you taken my bee and are using it to plow your land?’
The farmer swore he had not stolen it, claiming it had come to him on its own.
— ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I won’t argue over this, but you must compensate me for my loss.’
— ‘I will,’ he replied, ‘but first, let me plant this grain, harvest it, grind it, and pack it into sacks for you.’
The moment he planted the grain, it sprouted, grew, ripened, and was harvested. He ground it into flour, filled my sacks, and gave me my bee back.
I loaded the sacks on either side of the bee, climbed on top, and began my journey home. But in the middle of the sea, I realized one sack was heavier than the other. I counted each grain inside and found one extra.
To balance the weight, I split the extra grain in half with an ax, equalized the sacks, and continued on my way.
When I arrived home, I received great news—my father had just been born! Overjoyed, I decided to make him a crib.
I gathered two hundred woodcutters to chop down trees for the crib, but there wasn’t enough wood. However, a single splinter remained on the edge of an ax, and that splinter was enough not only for the crib but also for a small bench.
Then, I needed wool to make bedding. I gathered two hundred shepherds to shear two thousand sheep, but still, there wasn’t enough wool. But a single strand remained on the shears, and with that, I made an entire blanket and even a belt.
One day, I decided to go hunting. We had three rifles—two broken and one missing its trigger. We also had three hunting dogs—two dead and one without a soul. I took the triggerless rifle and the soulless dog and set off into the mountains.
There, I found three rabbits—two dead and one lifeless. With my first shot, I killed the lifeless rabbit and carried it home.
On my way back, I found three houses—two in ruins and one collapsed entirely. Inside the collapsed house, I met three elderly women—two blind and one without eyes. I asked the eyeless one if she saw any pots for cooking. She pointed to three pots—two broken and one bottomless.
I took the bottomless pot, cooked the lifeless rabbit, and somehow, the meat drained out, but the broth remained. I ate, the old women ate… and—”
— “Enough! Enough!” shouted the merchant. “You have told more than one hundred lies without a single truth! Take the horse, the saddle, my home, and all my goods! May you enjoy them with your brothers!”
The clever young man returned home, gathered his brothers, and together they lived the rest of their days as wealthy gentlemen, proving that wit and intelligence could outsmart even the most cunning of men.
