Great Stories of Humor - Valiant Vicky, The Brave Weaver - Flora Annie Steel (Abridged and Simplified)

Great Stories of Humor - Valiant Vicky, The Brave Weaver 

Flora Annie Steel 

(Abridged and Simplified)

Once upon a time there lived a little weaver. He was called Victor Prince. This was because his head was big and legs thin. He was so small that his neighbours called him 'little Vicky the Weaver’.

But in spite of his small size, Vicky was brave. He was not tired of boasting about his victory. One day when he was sitting at his loom, a mosquito sat on his left hand. By chance the shuttle hit the mosquito and killed it. Vicky became elated over his skill and bravery. He boasted that it required the greatest skill and bravery for a man to kill a mosquito with a shuttle.

                          

Vicky was anxious to display his mettle in killing anything. He said it would not be difficult to do when he could kill a mosquito. He could no longer suffer himself to be called 'Vicky' No! now that he had shown his mettle he would be called 'Victor' - 'Victor Prince' or better still 'Prince Victor'; that was a name worthy of him. 

But when he announced his determination to the neighbours, they roared with laughter. Some called him Prince Victor. But even they did it with such sniggering and giggling and mock reverence that the little man flew home in a rage. 

Here he met with no better reception, for his wife, a fine beautiful young woman, was tired to death by her ridiculous little husband's whims and fancies; she asked him to hold his tongue and not to make a fool of himself. Upon this, he seized her by the hair, and beat her most unmercifully. 

Then he resolved to stay no longer in a town where his merits were unrecognized. He asked his wife to prepare some bread for the journey and set about packing his bundle. 'I will go into the world; he said to himself, 'The man who can shoot a mosquito dead with a shuttle ought not to hide his light under a bushel'. 

So off he set, with his bundle, his shuttle, and a loaf of bread tied up in a kerchief.

                              

Vicky reached a city where a dreadful elephant came daily to eat the inhabitants. Many mighty warriors had failed to kill it. On hearing this the valiant little weaver thought to himself, 'Now is my chance! A great big elephant will be a fine mark to a man who has shot a mosquito with a shuttle!'.

                              

So he went to the king, and announced that he proposed single-handed to meet and kill the elephant. At first, the king thought the little man was mad, but as he persisted in his words, he told him that he was free to try his luck if he chose to run the risk, adding that many better men than he had failed.

                               

Nevertheless, our brave weaver even refused to take either sword or bow, but strutted out to meet the elephant armed only with his shuttle.

                               

It was a beautiful sight to see little Vicky swaggering out to meet his enemy. On seeing Vicky, the elephant trumpeted fiercely and charged right at him and then, alas! all the little man's courage disappeared. Forgetting his new name of Prince Victor, he dropped his bundle, his shuttle, and his bread,. and bolted away as fast as his legs could carry him.

                               

Now it so happened that his wife had made the bread ever so sweet, and had put all sorts of tasty spices in it, because she wanted to hide the flavour of the poison she had put in it. She was a wicked, revengeful woman. 

She wanted to get rid of her tiresome little husband. That was way she had poisoned the food. As the elephant charged past, it smelt the delicious spices and catching up the bread with its long trunk, gobbled it up without stopping an instant. 

Meanwhile fear lent speed to Vicky's short legs, but though he ran like a hare, the elephant soon overtook him. He tried to escape by bolting through its legs. Now as luck would have it, at that very moment the poison took effect, and the elephant fell to the ground stone - dead. 

Vicky climbed up its head and sat there triumphantly, calmly mopping his face with his handkerchief. 'I had to pretend to run away' he explained for the coward would never have engaged me. Then I gave him a little push, and he fell down as you see. Elephants are big beasts, but they have no strength to speak of'.

                             

The good folks were amazed at the careless way in which Valiant Vicky spoke of his achievement. They went and told the king that the little weaver was a fearful wee man, who had knocked over the elephant like ninepins. Then the king said to himself, 'None of my warriors and wrestlers, no, not even the heroes of old could have done this. I must secure this little man's services if I can'. So he asked Vicky why he was wandering about the world.

                             

'For pleasure, for service, or for conquest!' returned Valiant Vicky, laying such stress on the last word that the king, in a great hurry, made him commander - in - chief of his whole army, for fear he should take service elsewhere.

                              

So there was Valiant Vicky, a mighty fine warrior, and as proud as a peacock at having fulfilled his own predictions.

                             

Now after some time, a terrible tiger was giving a lot of trouble to the people. The king asked Vicky to kill the tiger. He promised to give his daughter in marriage to Vicky if he killed the tiger. 'Nothing for nothing! said the astute little weaver to himself and when the promise was given he went out as gay as a lark. 

'Do not distress yourselves, good people', he said to those who flocked round him praying for his successful return, ‘it is ridiculous to suppose the tiger will have a chance. Why, I knocked over an elephant with my little finger! I am really invincible!

                             

But alas! for our Valiant Vicky! No sooner did he see the tiger charging at him than he ran for the nearest tree,, and scrambled into the branches There he sat like a monkey, while the tiger sat under the tree waiting for Vicky to come down. 

Vicky sat on the tree for six days. On the seventh day. when he tried to slip past the tiger, the tiger jumped at him with a roar. At once Vicky swung himself into a branch. While doing so, his dagger fell out of its sheath into the hungry wide - open mouth of the tiger. The tiger died on the spot. Vicky cut off its head and went home in triumph to the king. 

                             

‘You and your warriors are a nice set of cowards!' said he carefully. 'Here have I been fighting that tiger for seven days and seven nights without bite or sup, whilst you have been eating and sleeping at home. Pah! it's disgusting! But I suppose everyone is not a hero as I am!' So Prince Victor married the King's daughter, and was a greater man than ever.

After a few days the city was invaded by the army of an enemy king. Hearing this, the inhabitants cried with one accord, of course 'Prince Victor! Victor to the rescue'. The king sought the help of Vicky and promised to give him half his kingdom if he defeated the army. But Vicky did not want to fight. 

He wanted to run away with his wife to a place of safety. So in the dead of night he bade his wife rise, pack up her golden dishes, and follow him - 'Not that you will want the golden dishes at my house, he explained boastfully, 'for I have heaps and heaps, but on the journey these will be useful'. 

Then he crept outside the city, followed by his wife carrying the bundle, and began to steal through the enemy's camp.

                           

Just as they were in the middle of it, a big beetle flew into Vicky's face. "Run! Run!' he shrieked to his wife. On the way Vicky's wife dropped the golden dishes with a clang. The noise in the dark made the enemy soldiers think that the foes were attacking them. 

They began to fight with each other. In the dark they could not distinguish between friend or foe and killed one another. Next morning none of the enemy soldiers was left alive. And then, as may be imagined, great were the rejoicings at Prince Victor's Prowess. It was a mere trifle! remarked the valiant little gentleman modestly; "When a man can shoot a mosquito with a shuttle everything else is child's play'. Vicky received half the kingdom from the king for saving the city from the enemies.

                             

Thus, he lived in peace. When he died, everyone said Valiant Vicky was the greatest hero the world had ever seen.

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