Likho

Once there was a man who did not know what misfortune was. He heard people speak of it often and resolved to meet it at any cost. He slung a bag over his…

Once there was a man who did not know what misfortune was. He heard people speak of it often and resolved to meet it at any cost. He slung a bag over his shoulder and set off. He walked and walked until, beside a forest, he saw an iron castle surrounded by a fence of human bones with skulls set on top. He approached the castle.

“What do you want?”

“Likho—Misfortune. I am looking for him!”

“Likho is here.”

He entered a room, and there lay an enormous, fat giant, his head in the place of honor in the corner and his feet on the stove. His bed was made of human bones. This was Likho, and around him sat Zlydni and Zhurba. Likho offered the man a human head to eat; Likho himself was blind. The guest took the head and put it under the bench.

“Well, have you eaten it?” Likho asked.

“I have.”

“And where are you, little head, you little spendthrift?”

“Under the bench.”

The guest went hot and cold.

“Eat it, my dear, and you yourself will taste all the better to me.”

He took the head and hid it inside the front of his clothes. Likho asked:

“Where are you, little head, you little spendthrift?”

“Beside the stomach.”

“So he has eaten it,” thought Likho. “Now it is your turn.”

The guest seized his chance and ran. The iron door creaked. Likho realized he was escaping and shouted:

“Door, hold him! He will get away!”

But the man was already outside. Only his right hand had not escaped: he left it behind in the door. Then he said:

“Now that is misfortune!”