Little Stories from Inka

The father had three sons: the eldest was such a troublesome brute, the middle one was from different grandmothers, and the youngest was a fool from the very beginning. The brothers grew up and gathered to get married. But there was no bride—there was simply no one to even fall in love with. There was nowhere to go; they had to travel for brides. Enough of lying here!

So two brothers saddled their horses, and the youngest climbed onto a donkey. They rode off, but they didn’t know where the brides lived. And no matter where the brides lived, they would still love the brothers, because heroes know this well: love loves a hook—wit or mighty strength. And we’ve got a brother who’s even better than the rest! They ride in boasting: with strength, with brains. Look—on the road, an old woman lies right there, as if she’s been honored at a feast…