The Honest Shepherd and the Greedy Hunter

The Honest Shepherd and the Greedy Hunter

Adapted from the story by Mukhtar Ahmad

It was a quiet afternoon when Saeed, the shepherd boy, returned from grazing his goats and sheep. After dropping off the herds at various homes, he reached the house of the village headman, the Numberdar. There, he found the Numberdar’s wife sitting in a corner, weeping softly.

Surprised, Saeed tied the goats and asked one of the servants, “What’s wrong with the mistress? Did she have a quarrel with the Numberdar?”

The servant, Khero, sighed. “No, brother Saeed, there’s no quarrel. The Numberdar went to the city today and bought gold jewelry worth seven thousand rupees for his wife. On his way back, he stopped in the forest to eat lunch. The jewelry was tied in a silk pouch, which he placed under his knees while he ate.

“But as he took his first bite, a monkey swung down from a tree, snatched the fancy cap off his head, and leaped away! The Numberdar threw a shoe at it and ran after the creature, but it was too high up the tree. When he returned, the silk pouch was gone. Some mischievous monkey must have taken it. He searched every tree but couldn’t find it. Exhausted and heartbroken, he came back home. Since then, the mistress hasn’t stopped crying—even though he’s promised to buy her new jewelry.”

Saeed felt sorry for her and left quietly for home. He was tired that evening; he had gone deep into the jungle with his friend, the ape, and his legs ached. After bathing and eating at the village bakery, he fell asleep and didn’t wake until morning.

The next day, Saeed drove his flock once again toward the forest. But when he reached the meadow where his goats usually grazed, he was surprised not to find his friend—the ape—waiting for him as usual. He sat on the grass, hoping the creature would appear, but the sun climbed high and still there was no sign.

Worried, Saeed decided to go look for his friend. Leaving the flock behind, he went deeper into the forest, searching all the spots where they usually played. An hour passed—no sign of the ape. Then suddenly, the sound of a gunshot echoed through the trees.

Saeed froze. The shot had come from the direction of Shahzad Nagar, a nearby town where hunters often came to hunt. Fear gripped him—what if the hunter had shot his beloved friend? He ran toward the sound.

Soon, he saw a man standing in a clearing. The man’s back was turned, his rifle in one hand, and in the other—a silk pouch. On the ground lay a motionless monkey, blood oozing from its chest. Saeed’s heart sank. He immediately recognized the silk pouch—it must be the same one that held the Numberdar’s jewelry.

The hunter turned slightly, and Saeed gasped. “Mr. Arshad! It’s you?”

Arshad, startled, tried to hide the pouch. He was a friend of the Numberdar’s from childhood, though he now lived in the nearby city. “Saeed! What are you doing here?”

Saeed quickly replied, “I heard the gunshot and came to see. So, you shot this monkey? It must be the one that stole the Numberdar’s jewelry!”

Arshad hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, I saw it holding this pouch. I thought it must be valuable, so I shot it.”

“Then you should take the jewelry back to the Numberdar,” Saeed said. “His wife has been weeping nonstop.”

But greed had already taken hold of Arshad’s heart. “Saeed,” he said softly, “the Numberdar is rich. He can buy more jewels. I’m poor—I work at a brick kiln for little pay. If I keep these jewels, I could start a small business. Please keep this a secret.”

Saeed stepped back. “Arshad Sahib, I respected you. Don’t do this. It’s wrong.”

Arshad’s tone hardened. “If you stay quiet, I’ll give you fifty rupees. But if you refuse, I’ll kill you right here. You’ll never tell anyone what happened.”

Saeed’s heart raced. He realized Arshad was serious—and that silence would make him a partner in crime. Pretending to agree, Saeed blinked twice, then suddenly snatched the pouch and sprinted away.

“Stop!” shouted Arshad, grabbing his rifle. A bullet whizzed past Saeed’s ear—it missed. Saeed darted behind trees, running deeper into the forest. Arshad followed like a shadow.

At last, Saeed climbed a tall tree and hid among the leaves. From below, Arshad yelled, “I can see you! Come down!”

Saeed, calm but defiant, tossed the pouch down. “Take your gold—it’s blinded you!”

Arshad sneered. “You think you’re noble? Once you’re dead, no one will know the truth.” He aimed his rifle upward, finger trembling on the trigger.

But before he could shoot, the bushes behind him exploded with a roar. A huge ape—Saeed’s friend—leapt from the trees. With one mighty blow, the beast knocked Arshad to the ground. The hunter’s gun fell away as he screamed in terror.

The ape placed its heavy foot on Arshad’s chest and pressed down until he stopped struggling. Silence returned to the forest.

Saeed jumped down and threw his arms around the ape, tears of relief in his eyes. The creature’s fur was damp—it had probably been playing near the lake. Taking Saeed’s hand, it led him toward the water. There, on floating logs, the ape began to splash and play, inviting Saeed to join.

After some time together, Saeed said goodbye, retrieved the pouch from the bushes, and returned to the village. At the Numberdar’s house, he placed the jewelry before him and told the entire story.

The Numberdar was astonished and deeply moved by Saeed’s honesty. “You could have kept this treasure,” he said, “but you chose truth over greed.”

Since the Numberdar had no children of his own, he adopted Saeed as his son. From that day, the shepherd boy left his flocks behind and began to study diligently—while still visiting his friend, the faithful ape, in the forest.

As for the Numberdar, he mourned the loss of his old friend Arshad, who had let greed destroy his soul—and his life.