The Six Animals Claim Credit

The midday sun stood straight overhead on a flooded, muddy field. The buffalo bent its head, its shoulders pressed hard against the wooden yoke. Its four legs sank deep as it slowly drew the plow, turning furrows of shiny brown earth. Sweat soaked its back and its breath came in heavy snorts, yet the furrow ran perfectly straight from one end of the field to the other.

The buffalo belonged to a kindly farmer. His home was small, with an earthen yard and a warm barn. Six animals wandered about that yard, each with its own look and its own nature. In the countryside, people still tell the tale of those six animals, and of one particular afternoon.

As the afternoon wore on, the farmer led the buffalo home, took off its yoke, and sat down to rest on the front step. A cool breeze swept across the yard. And that afternoon, strangely enough, the six animals came up to him one after another. Each one wanted to tell its master what it had done that day.

The buffalo spoke first, its voice deep and slow like its steps. "Sir, all day long I stand in the mud and slowly pull the plow, turning the earth over row by row until it is soft and loose. Only loose soil lets the rice seed sprout and the young plants grow green. Then one day golden paddy will fill the bins and white rice will fill the pots. Corn and sweet potatoes will come home by the shoulder load. All of it grows from today's quiet furrows." When it had finished, the buffalo swished its tail and blinked its big, gentle eyes.

The farmer nodded and stroked its curved horn. Just then the dog ran over from a corner of the yard, wagging its tail and giving a few cheerful barks.

"By day I lie in the sun and look as if I have an easy life, sir, but night is when I work," said the dog, in a quick, shrill voice. "When the whole family is fast asleep, I stay awake. At any sound beyond the fence, my ears prick up. If a stranger's shadow creeps in, I bark loudly and wake everyone. That is why the household sleeps soundly every night, with no fear of losing anything." The dog held its head high, like a dutiful sentry.

The farmer laughed and scratched behind its ears. Over by the stable, the horse had already let out a crisp neigh, its long mane quivering. It did not wait to be asked.

"My legs are long, sir, and I gallop as fast as the wind!" the horse said at once, in a high, eager voice. "Whenever there is a distant market to reach, I am the one who takes you there. When news must go to the next village, I race off in one dash. I arrive before a stick of incense has burned down. No road is too long for me, and no slope is too steep. Wherever you go, I follow, so that every errand gets done in time." The horse stamped its hooves, its bright eyes shining with pride.

The farmer patted its glossy neck. From a rocky ledge beside the garden, the goat came strolling down, the tuft of beard under its chin swaying with every step.

"I cannot plow a field, sir, and I cannot gallop down a long road," the goat said, in a soft but cheerful voice. "But I have work of my own. I climb rocky ledges so steep that no one else can reach them, and up there I nibble wild leaves and tender grass. I never touch the vegetable beds, and I never spoil the family's plots of beans and sesame. And whenever the village holds a festival or a happy day, a goat prancing proudly through the crowd makes it all livelier and more exciting." The goat shook its little beard and looked as dignified as a tiny old man.

The farmer burst out laughing with delight. At that very moment the rooster leapt onto the hedge, spread its wings, and let out a loud, ringing crow that echoed across the yard.

"Ò ó o, o o! Sir, I am the clock of the whole household," said the rooster, puffing out its chest of glossy feathers. "While the sky is still pitch black and the stars have not yet set, I am already crowing for the first time. I crow so that my master can rise and head out to the fields early. I crow so the whole hamlet knows a new day has begun. People praise the rooster for having five fine virtues. The red comb on my head is like a hat, and the sharp spurs on my legs are like a sword. When trouble comes, I am brave and never back away. When I find a grain of rice, I call the whole flock to share it. And my crowing comes right on time, never wrong." With that, the rooster flapped its wings noisily and crowed once more, just to show off.

The farmer nodded and agreed. Last of all, the pig came waddling out of its pen, plump and clumsy. Its round belly swayed, and its little eyes narrowed into a gentle squint.

"I am very clumsy, sir, and I can do none of the heavy work my big brothers and sisters do," said the pig, in a husky, honest voice. "All I know is how to eat bran and greens, and the leftover rice and scraps of soup that nobody else wants. Thanks to me, nothing in the house goes to waste. I ask for little. I just grunt and lie down to sleep so I can grow quickly, and I am gentle and never argue with anyone. And on the days when the whole extended family gathers, there I am, trotting around the yard and grunting for food. Then the home feels livelier and warmer." When it had finished, the pig gave a grunting laugh and nuzzled its snout against the farmer's leg.

The farmer sat quietly for a moment. He had heard six different voices. One was deep, one was shrill, and one was soaring. One was soft, one was ringing, and one was husky. Then he smiled and let his eyes travel over all six animals.

"Thank you, my dears," the farmer said warmly. "The buffalo gives me my grain. The dog gives me peaceful sleep. The horse gives me legs to go everywhere. The goat gives me laughter on festival days. The rooster gives me the early morning. The pig gives me family gatherings that are full and happy. In our household, every animal has done good work, and every job is needed. No animal here is extra, and no job is small."

Hearing this, the six animals were overjoyed. One wagged its tail, one flapped its wings, one shook its beard, and one neighed aloud. None of them wanted to outdo the others anymore.

That night the moon rose and lit the earthen yard. The buffalo lay chewing its cud beside the straw pile, the dog curled up in front of the door, and the horse dozed by its trough. The goat snuggled into a warm corner, the rooster tucked in its neck on a branch, and the pig snored away in its pen. All six slept soundly, waiting for tomorrow, when each would have its own work again.

And in any country home, all six friends can still be found. The buffalo is in the field, the dog on the porch, and the horse on the road. The goat is on the slope, the rooster by the gable, and the pig in its pen. Each one quietly does its own share of the work.