MARIKO, THE Stubborn HUNTER

Mariko was a hunter, and what a hunter he was! He killed animals as if they were not living creatures, taking the lives of dozens every day. He would display their heads and tails as trophies for all to see.

One day, his wife, unable to bear the sight of him massacring animals any longer, offered some advice:

"Mariko, please, stop killing animals in this manner. It's not right. They are living beings."

Mariko scoffed at his wife's words, and the very next day, he returned to the village with thirty more animal tails as his gruesome spoils.

The village elders, in turn, summoned Mariko to their meeting place and said:

"Mariko, please cease killing animals as you do. If the hunters before you had acted the same, there would be no wild animals left for you to hunt today."

Mariko paid no heed to the elders, and the very next day, he brought back forty more animal tails.

But one day, Mariko went out hunting and found himself empty-handed. He searched the savannah all day but didn't spot a single creature, not even a small squirrel. As evening approached, he was returning home, grumbling when he saw a large lizard basking in the last rays of the setting sun by the river's edge. His eyes lit up with joy - he wouldn't bear the ridicule of returning home empty-handed. He aimed his weapon at the lizard, about to fire, when it stood up like a man and began to sing:

"Do not kill me, Mariko. Do not kill me.

I am not an ordinary lizard.

You see? Merchants from the North, South,

East, and West pass by here daily.

They haven't killed me because they know

I am not like other lizards!"

Mariko responded with a laugh:

"Old lizard, even if you sing all the songs in your repertoire, I will still kill you!"

And he pulled the trigger, ending the lizard's life. He threw it over his shoulder and returned to the village. As he was about to cross his doorstep, the lifeless lizard, incredibly, sang again:

"Do not kill me, Mariko. I am not an ordinary lizard."

Mariko replied:

"Keep on singing if you like. I will roast you and eat you shortly. We'll see if you can continue singing in my belly."

He handed the lizard to his wife:

"Prepare this for me, dear. I'm starving."

His wife, however, retorted:

"Not only will I not prepare that lizard, but I won't eat it, and my children won't either. Do you hear me, Mariko?"

"Fine, I'll prepare it myself," Mariko grumbled.

Mariko proceeded to carve up the lizard, cutting it into pieces and tossing them into the pot. Yet, even as they simmered on the fire, every piece of the lizard continued to sing:

"Do not kill me, Mariko. I am not like other lizards."

"You'll be ready soon, and I will devour you," Mariko said. "We'll see if you keep singing then!"

When the lizard was thoroughly cooked, Mariko began to eat. He invited his wife, but she refused. He invited his children, and they all declined. He ate it all by himself.

As soon as he finished eating, an immense thirst gripped him, burning his throat. He shouted to his wife:

"Bring me something to drink! I'm dying of thirst!"

His wife brought him a glass of water, which he gulped down in one go. His thirst worsened.

He yelled at his children:

"Bring me some water! I'm dying of thirst!"

Each child brought a pitcher of water, which he devoured instantly. His thirst intensified.

Mariko got up, grabbed a jug of water, and consumed it all in one gulp. Yet his thirst persisted.

He left the house, running out of the village. He raced to the riverbank, the same river where he had killed the lizard. He bent down and began to drink the river water. But his thirst grew even more unbearable. He drank, and he drank. His stomach swelled and expanded until it finally burst open. Out came the pieces of the lizard, which then reassembled.

Suddenly, the lizard stood tall before the dying Mariko and said:

"What did I tell you, Mariko? You've learned your lesson the hard way."

And from that day forward, if animals are hunted, it is done with respect.