Little Anklebone

Once upon a time there was a little boy whose parents had died, so he went to live with his aunt, and she sent him out to look after her sheep. All day long the little fellow walked barefoot across the wide, trackless plain with his flock, playing his tiny shepherd’s pipe from morning to night.

But one day a great big wolf came along. He looked hungrily at the small shepherd and his fat sheep and said, “Little boy! Shall I eat you, or your sheep?”

The little boy answered politely, “I don’t know, Mr Wolf. I must ask my aunt.”

So he went on piping all day, and in the evening, when he had brought the flock home, he went to his aunt and said, “Auntie dear, a great big wolf asked me today whether he should eat me or your sheep. Which shall it be?”

His aunt looked at the tiny shepherd, and then at her fat sheep, and said sharply, “Which shall it be? Why, you, of course!”

So the next morning the little boy drove his flock out onto the plain and piped cheerfully until the great big wolf appeared. Then he put down his pipe, walked up to the fierce beast and said, “Oh, if you please, Mr Wolf, I asked my aunt, and she says you are to eat me.”

Now the wolf could not help feeling a little spark of pity for the tiny barefoot shepherd who piped so sweetly. So he said kindly, “Is there anything I can do for you, little boy, after I have eaten you?”

“Thank you!” said the tiny shepherd. “If you would be so kind, when you have finished, as to thread my anklebone on a string and hang it from the tree that droops over that pond, I should be very grateful.”

So the wolf ate the little shepherd, and afterwards he kept his word and hung the anklebone on a string from a branch of the tree, where it danced and swung in the sunshine.

One day three robbers who had just robbed a palace came that way. They sat down under the tree to share out what they had stolen. They had just sorted all the golden dishes, precious jewels and fine cloths into three heaps when a jackal howled. In this tale, the robbers take the jackal’s cry as a warning signal. At that very same moment Little Anklebone’s string snapped, and he dropped plump onto the head of the chief robber. The man thought someone had thrown a pebble at him. “Run! Run! We’ve been found out!” he shouted, and he dashed away as fast as he could, with the others close behind him, leaving all the treasure where it lay.

“Now,” said Little Anklebone to himself, “I shall live a fine life!”

He gathered up the treasure and sat under the tree that drooped over the pond, and he played so sweetly on a new shepherd’s pipe that all the animals of the forest, the birds of the air and the fish in the pond came to listen. Little Anklebone set marble basins round the pond for the animals to drink from. In the evenings the does, the tigresses and the she-wolves gathered round him to be milked, and when he had drunk all he wanted, he milked the rest into the pond, until at last it became a pond of milk. And Little Anklebone sat beside the pond of milk and played his shepherd’s pipe.

One day an old woman passing by with her water jar heard the sweet music of the pipe. She followed the sound and came upon the pond of milk, with the animals, the birds and the fish all listening to the tune. She was amazed, and more amazed still when Little Anklebone called out from his seat under the tree, “Fill your jar, mother! Everyone who comes here may drink!”

So the old woman filled her jar with milk and went on her way, delighted with her good luck. But along the road she met the king of that country, who had been out hunting and had lost his way on the trackless plain.

“Give me a drink of water, good mother,” he cried when he saw her jar. “I am half dead with thirst!”

“It is milk, my son,” said the old woman. “I got it over there, from a pond of milk.” And she told the king about all the wonders she had seen, until he made up his mind to go and see them for himself.

When he saw the pond of milk, with all the animals and birds and fish gathered round it while Little Anklebone played so sweetly on his pipe, he said, “I must have that tiny piper, even if it kills me!”

The moment Little Anklebone heard this, he ran off, with the king after him. There was never such a chase, before or since. Little Anklebone hid in the thickest brambles and thorns, but the king was so set on catching the tiny piper that he did not care how badly he was scratched.

At last the king caught him. But the instant he took hold of Little Anklebone, the sky above began to crash with thunder and flash with lightning, the does lowed loudly all around, and louder than everything came the voice of the little piper, singing:

“O clouds, why do you storm and flare?
Poor Anklebone is made to roam.
O does, why wait for milking care?
Poor Anklebone must leave his home.”

He sang so sweetly and so sadly that the king’s heart filled with pity, all the more when he saw that what he held was nothing but a little bone. So he let it go, and the tiny piper went back to his seat under the tree by the pond.

There he sits to this day, playing his shepherd’s pipe, while all the animals of the forest, the birds of the air and the fish of the pond gather round to listen. And sometimes, when people wandering across the wide plain hear the sound of a pipe, they say, “That is Little Anklebone, who was eaten by a wolf long, long ago!”

About this story

Flora Annie Steel collected this tale for Tales of the Punjab. In the notes to the book, R. C. Temple says the story seems to be unique among Indian folk tales and compares it with the Grimms’ “Singing Bone”. He adds that it was told in the wild grazing lands of the Gujranwala District among the children of cattle drovers, where wolves were common, and that it may point to a belief in an invisible shepherd, a spirit of the wilds, whose pipe can be heard.

Temple also notes that the word used for Little Anklebone was Giri, and that the howl of a jackal was a common bad omen. The wolf’s meal is told in a single plain sentence here, without the detail of the original.

Read the original: Flora Annie Steel, Tales of the Punjab (Project Gutenberg #6145, Little Anklebone)

Reading guidance: Older teen and adult readers, or an adult’s carefully selected discussion; includes a guardian consenting to a child’s death and a wolf eating him. The musical afterlife does not undo that harm.

A closer reading

The aunt treats the child as less valuable than the sheep entrusted to him. His polite obedience makes that betrayal more disturbing; it does not make her order right. The wolf’s small kindness after killing him cannot repair the death, so the episode resists an easy division between helpful and harmful characters.

After the boy’s death, his music gathers a community that shares rather than hoards. Animals receive drinking basins, the old woman is invited to fill her jar, and the milk is available to visitors. The king breaks that pattern when he decides he must possess the musician. His pursuit turns appreciation into an attempt to control.

The song connects the piper’s loss of home with the animals’ loss of care. The king finally releases him after hearing what capture would disrupt. This is not a return to the aunt’s household: the final refuge is the pond and its listening community, while the original wrong remains unresolved.

Try this with the story

Make two columns headed ‘share’ and ‘possess’. Place the aunt’s sheep, the milk offered to the old woman and the king’s demand in the appropriate column, explaining your choices. Read the song again and identify everyone who would lose something if the king kept the piper.

Questions to ask

• Why is the aunt’s answer a betrayal of care?
• How does life at the pond differ from the boy’s first home?
• When does the king’s admiration become an attempt at possession?
• What does the song help the king understand?

Related stories

• Peasie and Beansie — another short tale from Tales of the Punjab
• The Lambikin — another Indian story about a small creature and a hungry animal
• Princess Aubergine — another magical tale from the same book