The Bear’s Bad Bargain

Once upon a time a very old woodman lived with his very old wife in a tiny hut right next to a rich man’s orchard. It was so close that the branches of a pear tree hung over their yard. The rich man and the woodman had agreed that if any fruit fell into the yard, the old couple could eat it. So you can imagine how hungrily they watched the pears ripening. They hoped for a storm, or a flock of fruit bats, or anything at all that would knock the fruit down. But nothing came.

The old wife was a grumbling, scolding sort of person, and she said they were sure to end up as beggars. So she gave her husband nothing but dry bread to eat and made him work harder than ever, until the poor old man grew quite thin, all because the pears would not fall! At last the woodman put his foot down. He said he would not do another stroke of work unless his wife made him khichri for dinner. Grumbling, the old woman took some rice and lentils, some butter and spices, and began to cook a tasty khichri. What a delicious smell it had! The woodman wanted to gobble it up the moment it was ready.

“No, no,” said his greedy wife. “Not until you’ve brought me another load of wood, and make sure it’s a good one. You must work for your dinner.”

So the old man went off to the forest and chopped and hacked so hard that he soon had a big bundle of sticks. With every stick he cut, he seemed to smell the khichri and think of the feast waiting for him.

Just then a bear came ambling by, with his big black nose in the air and his sharp little eyes peering about. This bear was curious about the woodman’s load.

“Peace be with you, friend!” said the bear. “And what are you going to do with that very large bundle of wood?”

“It’s for my wife,” said the woodman. Then he leaned closer and smacked his lips. “The fact is, she has made such a khichri for dinner! If I bring her a good bundle of wood, she’s sure to give me a big helping. Oh, my dear fellow, you should just smell that khichri!”

The bear’s mouth began to water, at the thought of the promised meal. “Do you think your wife would give me some too, if I brought her a bundle of wood?” he asked eagerly.

“Perhaps, if it was a very big load,” said the woodman slyly.

“Would a heap as big as four of yours be enough?” asked the bear.

“I’m afraid not,” said the woodman, shaking his head. “You see, khichri is an expensive dish. There’s rice in it, and lots of butter, and lentils, and…”

“Would eight be enough?”

“Make it ten and it’s a deal!” said the woodman.

“Ten is an awful lot,” sighed the bear.

“There’s saffron in the khichri,” the woodman said, as if he had only just remembered.

The bear licked his lips, and he eagerly imagined his dinner. “All right, it’s a deal! Hurry home and tell your wife to keep the khichri hot. I’ll be there in no time.”

Off went the woodman, very pleased with himself, to tell his wife about the bargain. She had to admit that it was a good one. But she pointed out that he had not settled exactly how much the bear should have. “He’ll gobble up the whole pot before we’ve finished our first helping,” she said.

The woodman went quite pale. “In that case,” he said, “we’d better start now and get a head start.” So they sat down on the floor with the brass pot of khichri between them and began to eat as fast as they could.

“Remember to leave some for the bear, wife,” said the woodman, with his mouth full.

“Of course, of course,” she said, helping herself to another handful.

“My dear,” said the old woman a moment later, with her mouth so full she could hardly speak, “remember the poor bear!”

“Of course, of course, my love!” said the old man, taking another mouthful.

And so it went on, until there was not a single grain left in the pot.

“What do we do now?” said the woodman. “It’s all your fault for eating so much.”

“My fault!” said his wife. “You ate twice as much as I did!”

“No, I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did! Men always eat more than women.”

“No, they don’t!”

“Yes, they do!”

“Well, it’s no use arguing about it now,” said the woodman. “The khichri’s gone, and the bear will be furious.”

“That wouldn’t matter much if we could still get the wood,” said the greedy old woman. “I know what we’ll do. We’ll lock up all the food in the house, leave the empty pot by the fire, and hide in the attic. When the bear comes, he’ll think we’ve gone out and left his dinner for him. He’ll throw down his wood and come in. Of course he’ll make a fuss when he finds the pot empty, but he can’t do much harm, and I don’t think he’ll bother to carry all that wood away again.”

So they hurried to lock up the food and hid in the attic.

Meanwhile the bear had been working hard at his bundle of wood, which took much longer to collect than he had expected. At last he arrived at the cottage, worn out. He saw the brass pot by the fire, threw down his load, and went in. And oh, how angry he was when he found nothing in the pot, not one grain of rice or one tiny lentil, only a smell so wonderful that he actually cried with rage and disappointment! He flew into a terrible temper and turned the whole house upside down, but he could not find a crumb. He said he would take his wood away. But just as the clever old woman had guessed, when it came to it, he did not want to carry such a heavy load, not even for revenge.

“I won’t go home empty-handed,” he said to himself, grabbing the pot. “If I can’t have the taste, I’ll have the smell!”

As he left the cottage, he saw the beautiful golden pears hanging over the yard. His mouth watered at once, for he was very hungry, and these were the first pears of the season. In a flash he was up on the wall and into the tree. He picked the biggest, ripest pear he could find and was just about to pop it into his mouth when he had an idea.

“If I take these pears home, I can sell them to the other bears for lots of money, and then I can buy some khichri. Ha, ha! I’ll get the best of the bargain after all!”

So he picked the ripe pears as fast as he could and put them in the pot. Whenever he came to an unripe one, he shook his head and said, “No one would buy that, but it’s a shame to waste it.” So he ate it himself, pulling faces when it was very sour.

All this time the woodman’s wife had been watching the bear through a crack, holding her breath so as not to be heard. But she was wheezy and had a cold in her nose, and at last she could not hold it in any longer. Just as the pot was full to the top with golden pears, out came the loudest sneeze you ever heard: “A-a-a-CHOO!”

The bear thought someone had fired a gun at him. He dropped the pot into the yard and ran into the forest as fast as his legs would carry him.

So the woodman and his wife got the wood and the pot and the pears they had wanted for so long, and the poor bear got nothing but a very bad stomach-ache from eating sour green pears.

Where this story comes from

This story comes from Tales of the Punjab, Told by the People (1894) by Flora Annie Steel, an English writer who lived for over twenty years in the Punjab, in what is now India and Pakistan, and collected stories from the people she met there.

Khichri is a simple, comforting dish of rice and lentils cooked with butter and spices, still eaten all over South Asia. In Steel’s version the bear offers to carry wood by the “hundredweight,” and settles at half a ton.

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

Reading guidance: For ages 6–8 with discussion of unfair bargains. The bear frightens the household and is himself frightened away; nobody is killed.

A closer reading

The woodman bargains for a large amount of work without fixing the bear’s portion. That uncertainty becomes the couple’s excuse to eat first, and each keeps reminding the other to save some while taking more. Their words claim consideration while their hands empty the pot.

The bear actually completes his side of the bargain. His anger does not turn the couple’s failure to feed him into fairness. Nor does the sneeze reward honesty: it is an accident that leaves the dishonest pair with both wood and fruit. The ending is a trickster success, not a reliable rule that greed punishes only the greedy.

Try this with the story

Write a two-line agreement stating the amount of wood and the reserved share of food. Compare it with the agreement in the story. Then make a ledger of what each party gives, receives and loses; use it to judge the outcome rather than simply siding with whoever wins.

Questions to ask

• Why did the bear agree to bring such a huge load of wood?
• Was it fair that the woodman and his wife ate all the khichri? Why or why not?
• How did a sneeze end up getting the old couple the pears?

You may also like

• The Beggar And The Five Muffins — another funny tale of a greedy couple and their food
• The Brahmarakshas And The Hair — another Indian tale where a clever wife outwits a big creature
• The Jackal And The Crocodile — another Indian animal tale full of tricks