This man has a large, sharp knife. It is not for you.
You might find a river gently winding through the land when you wander far.
If the winds are just right, you might see an older man sitting quietly along the river. He seems to be a part of the river as much as the river is a part of him. His long, silver hair falls past his shoulders, and his snowy beard frames his weathered face. His deep, clear eyes reflect the waters he cares for.
This man has a large, sharp knife. It is not for you. It is used to carve wood with skill and precision. He handles the knife easily, and his hands move smoothly, almost like the flowing river.
All day and all night, all winter and all summer, the old man continues his work. His hands are never idle, and his knife never rests. Chips and splinters fall from the wood and drop into the river as he whittles.
As the splinters drift downstream, they gradually take on a new form. As they reach the river’s mouth and join the sea, the woods turn into a diverse mix of fish — salmon, char, cod, capelin, lumpsucker, and halibut. Every fish carries a part of the old man’s spirit, a hint of his timeless presence.
The people who have come upon the old man have never fully understood him. Without him, the fish would not flourish, and the river would lack its essence.
So, if you ever find yourself wandering near that river, and if you chance upon the old man whittling away at the wood, take a moment to observe. Please don’t hurt him. Show respect to the old man. He is the father of all fish.
Hello
I discovered this tale in a collection of Inuit folktales many years ago. Originally, it was a short piece, only four or five sentences long. The story’s tone is written as a warning, advising people not to kill an old man because he is considered the father of all fish.
I hope you enjoy my retelling. For those who love folktales, I highly recommend checking out Inuit folktales.
