desert. He had a nice little house, and even had a little garden going, the water for which he drew from his well. As the desert gets very hot, he slept by day and worked at night.
Apart from the hous with the garden, there was nothing but sand for miles around — no stones anywhere. Well, almost none --- a pair of birds, some kind of crow-like species, had brought one from elsewhere. Now, crows and their kin are both intelligent and playful. This particular couple's favourite pastime was to pick up the stone, fly to a height, and drop it on the roof of the house. They'd play this game for a day, and then get bored of it for a few days, and then start all over again. This in itself was not so bad --- but whenever they played "drop the stone", it made so much noise that the man couldn't sleep. As a result, about twice a week he hardly slept a wink.
After a week, he couldn't stand it any longer. He stayed awake until he heard the stone land on his roof; then he ran outside, grabbed the stone, and buried it under his bed where the birds couldn't reach it. He slept very soundly for the next few weeks.
The birds were bored without the stone; but as it happened, one was male and one was female, and they soon found, ahem, better things to do. The result of this was a clutch of eight eggs, laid in a nest in a bush beside the house. After a few weeks, the eggs hatched, and the parents had to take care of eight little hatchlings.
Poor man. The parents couldn't feed their young fast enough, and hatchlings were hungry all day long. The squawked and squeaked and screeched for attention, and the man didn't sleep at all. The stone-game had been bad, but this was far, far worse.
He should have known: better two birds with one stone, than ten in the bush. |
