A long time ago, when the Bicols had not yet been welded¹ into one tribe², there lived a couple in the mountains of Albay who had one son, named Juan. Before the boy was five years [48]old, his father died. As Juan grew up, he became very lazy: he did not like to work, nor would he help his mother earn their daily bread. Despite his laziness, Juan was dearly loved by his mother. She did not want him to work in the field under the hot sun. Because of his mother’s indulgence, he grew lazier and lazier.

 

Every afternoon Juan used to take a walk while his mother was working. She was a kind-hearted³ woman, and often told her son to help anybody he met that needed help. One afternoon, while he was walking in a field, he saw two carabaos fighting. One was gored⁴ by the other, and was about to die. Juan, mindful of what his mother told him, went between the two animals to help the wounded⁵ one. Suddenly the two animals gored him in the back, and he fell to the ground. A man, passing by, found him, and took him to his home. When Juan’s mother learned⁶ why her son had been gored, she was greatly distressed⁷ that her son was so foolish.

 

Juan soon recovered, and one day he invited his mother to go with him to look for money. He insisted so hard, that finally she agreed to accompany him. On their way they found an axe⁸, which Juan picked up and took along with him. They had not gone much farther⁹, when they saw a long rope stretching across the road. Juan’s mother did not want him to take it, but he said that it would be of some use to them later. By and by they came to a river, on the bank of which they found a large drum. Juan took this with him, too.

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