Gold in the Lion’s Den

In the heart of a thick jungle, where the trees whispered ancient tales and the wind carried secrets, lived a lion named Zor. He was no ordinary lion—he was the King of the Jungle. Respected by the strong, feared by the cunning, and admired by the wise, Zor ruled with strength and justice.

One day, as Zor patrolled the edges of his territory, he stumbled upon a strange sight. Hidden beneath a landslide near the riverbank was a gleaming chest, half-buried in dirt and roots. Curious, Zor clawed it open. Inside was something he had never seen before—shiny, round pieces of metal, glittering like sunlight. It was gold.

He didn’t know what gold was, but its shine mesmerized him. He dragged the chest back to his den deep in the jungle and guarded it with fierce pride. From that day forward, everything changed.


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Word of the lion’s discovery spread like wildfire.

The monkey chattered to the parrot, who whispered to the snake, who told the jackal. Soon, the whole jungle buzzed with rumors.

“Zor has found treasure!”

“They say it can buy anything in the human world!”

“It holds power—real power!”

A sly fox named Kallu, known for his silver tongue and clever mind, hatched a plan. “If I can’t fight the lion with claws, I’ll trick him with words.”

Kallu visited Zor’s den the next day. He bowed low and said, “My king, I bring news from the world beyond the trees. That treasure you found? It’s called gold. Humans value it more than anything. With it, you can buy machines, food, even make animals obey you.”

Zor raised an eyebrow. “Obey me? I am already their king.”

Kallu smiled. “Yes, but now they can worship you. With gold, you won’t need strength. They’ll bow without a roar.”

Zor liked the sound of that.

Over the weeks, Kallu returned often, always with new ideas. “Let’s build a golden throne for you,” he said one day. “Let’s make golden laws. Let’s gather more gold!” And so began the greed.

Zor became obsessed.

He sent animals to search for more gold, offering them extra meat in return. The elephant carried heavy loads, the crocodile guarded the riverbank, and the monkey climbed high trees to search human camps. Some animals protested, but Zor roared them into silence.

The jungle changed.

No more games by the waterfall. No more songs at dusk. The animals were tired, hungry, and scared. The once-peaceful kingdom was now ruled not by honor—but by hunger for gold.


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One night, an old owl named Baaz flew to the top of the lion’s den and spoke softly, “Zor, beware. The gold is not your strength. It is your weakness.”

Zor growled, “You are jealous. Be gone.”

But doubt had crept into his heart.

Meanwhile, Kallu grew bolder. With each day, he hid pieces of gold for himself. “Why should the lion have it all?” he thought. “I was the one who showed him its power.”

One moonless night, Kallu crept into the den while Zor slept. He loaded a sack with gold coins. Just as he turned to leave, he stepped on a dry bone that cracked loudly.

Zor's eyes snapped open.

In a flash, he pounced on Kallu, pinning him down. “You dare steal from your king?”

Kallu trembled. “I-I was only... guarding it!”

But it was too late.

The animals, awakened by the commotion, gathered outside the den. The truth was out. They saw Kallu's betrayal. But they also saw Zor’s obsession. His golden throne, his golden chains, his golden food bowls. The king had become a prisoner of his own treasure.

An old deer spoke, “You have become what you once protected us from.”

Zor looked around—at the gold, at the scared faces, at his own reflection in a golden plate.

He didn’t recognize himself.


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The next morning, Zor did something no one expected.

He ordered the treasure chest to be thrown into the deepest part of the river. Every piece of gold—gone. His throne, broken. The golden chains, melted.

He stood before the animals, proud yet humble.

“I forgot who I was,” he said. “I let greed make me blind. From today, there will be no gold in this jungle. Only trust, strength, and peace.”

The animals slowly stepped forward—first the monkey, then the elephant, then all the others. They forgave him. Not because he was their king, but because he had remembered how to lead.

And deep in the jungle, as the river swallowed the last gleam of gold, the trees whispered a new tale.

Not of treasure, but of a lion who lost himself—and found his kingdom again.


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Moral:
Power gained through greed is fragile. True leadership comes from wisdom, not wealth.