“The treasure is nothing but colored stones. Other wolves crept closer as Agnon looked at the hole in the treasure sack. He yelped with pain and trotted back into the trees. Ghostly sounds echoed over the mountains as the wolf’s teeth sank into the bundle. The largest wolf leaped at Agnon, snapping at his legs. Shivering in the cold, he looked about him and saw a ring of wolves with gaping jaws and teeth like daggers. That night he huddled near his fire and drew close to the sack, but it provided no warmth. Ahead he saw another snowfield and shuddered as he remembered his bearskin left in the grove of trees far below. Twice he slipped and fell, yet onward he struggled with the fortune upon his back. Slowly, step by painful step, he climbed. If I can get the treasure home, he daydreamed, how proud of me everyone will be. Glancing ahead, he saw the snow-topped mountains. Can a treasure be worth so much pain? he wondered. “Run for your life!”Īgnon hurried along the trail, but before he had gone far, he ached with the burden. Take the sack and be off!”Īgnon lifted the sack to his back, staggering under its weight. “The bandits will not bother me,” he sighed wearily. Yes,” the old man nodded, “you are worthy.”Īgnon could not believe his ears! The old man parting with his treasure! “But what of you?” Agnon asked. “I will give it to you who gave me food and could have taken it in the night, but you did not. “I cannot leave it,” the old man growled. “I am an old man, boy! Too old to carry this treasure anymore, much less defend it.” “No! It’s bandits sneaking up to steal my treasure!” The man patted his lumpy sack and squinted his eyes. “Hear that rustling?” the old man asked in a whisper.Īgnon listened to the wind in the trees and nodded his head. Across the clearing he saw the old man with a finger held to his pursed lips. The following morning Agnon awoke with a start. When the meal was done, he sat back against a tree and slept. Agnon reached to help him with his burden, but the old man growled, “Keep away!”Īgnon sat and watched as the man huddled beside the sack and ate. Dragging it back with him, he came close to Agnon’s fire. The old man glanced back at his own fire, then hurried to fetch a heavy sack. “You have food?” the man asked in surprise. As he ate his meal, he saw the shriveled old man cautiously approach his campfire. With a few quick strokes, he made a fire with some sticks he had gathered.
“Build your own fire!” the old man scolded.Īgnon shrugged his shoulders and spread his bearskin on the ground in a nearby grove of trees. “It was your company I wanted,” Agnon replied, backing away from the fire. As he approached it to warm himself, an old man sprang from some bushes with a knife gleaming in his hand.
He was weary and stopped when he came to a fire. “There’s none here,” the child replied, then ran indoors. “Good day,” he called to a child playing by the trail. “Hello!” he called to a woman who carried a bundle upon her head.īut she only glanced at him, pulled her shawl about herself, and hurried on. He walked until he came to a wide, well-traveled trail. Then as he descended the mountain, he saw trees and green fields. He glanced back longingly but could no longer see the lush green valley, so he wrapped his bearskin about his shoulders and trudged on. Then he continued on his journey.įor many days he climbed the mountain until he came to a great snowfield. When he reached Loni’s house, he paused at the gate for a moment. “And I’m sure I will be the wiser and the richer for having gone.” So saying, the boy wrapped a bearskin in a tight bundle, stuffed his pouch with fruits and vegetables, then waved and set off to seek his fortune. “We wish those things for you, and we also hope that you return home safely.” “Does no one wish me luck and good fortune?” Agnon asked in bewilderment. His father nodded sadly, and his friend, Loni, sadly shook his hand. When he told his parents of his decision, his mother kissed him on the cheek and wept. There must be more to life than this, he thought. As Agnon grew, he looked longingly toward the mountains and wondered what was on the other side. Each night he ate his bread and broth, then slept with stars quietly shining beyond his window. Agnon lived with his parents and neighbors in a lush and peaceful green valley.Įach day as the sun rose in the sky, Agnon tilled the soil. In a long ago time when men ate only what they grew or hunted and women made clothes from fabrics woven by hand or from animal skins, there lived a boy named Agnon.
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