Nobody knows where or when this happened, but there was once a legend that circulated in our town. It was said that a real deer roamed the forests. But it was no ordinary deer. Unlike its kin, this deer left a golden trail wherever it went. All the hunters believed that the deer was simply stuffed full of pure gold.
It was rumoured that it had been a young man, punished for his greed. Apparently, he had stolen from a wizard, pinched his golden sceptre. And for that he was punished with the heaviest burden: an evil mage transformed him into a deer and filled his belly completely with his beloved gold coins.
Whether this was truth or folk tale, nobody knew, but the fact remained: wherever the swift-footed deer ran, gold was left behind. And so it became a matter of honour for every hunter to catch it and obtain the precious metal.
Jack was no exception. He was considered the best hunter in the town: show him any game, and he could shoot it. To his credit were nimble rabbits and swift birds. But despite everything, that hunter was fair. Jack never touched wounded animals. He only hunted animals that troubled people: those that stole cabbages from the fields or destroyed crops.
But he couldn't resist such a temptation—to shoot a real golden deer. Without thinking twice, he slung his rifle over his shoulder and went into the forest. He didn't find the young deer quickly; he had to wander through the thicket for several hours. But eventually he came to a clearing, and there—lo and behold—sat the young deer.
Jack raised his rifle to his shoulder, but suddenly stopped. The deer turned its head towards him but didn't move—it just froze and seemed to weep. And so piercingly, so humanly…
And then the hunter noticed that the deer's leg was indeed covered in gold. He carefully placed his rifle on a nearby tree stump, as if to say, look, I won't hurt you, approached the creature and understood what was wrong.
The creature's leg was injured, and from it flowed not blood—but pure gold. He tried to touch the leg, and the young deer cried even harder. The hunter scratched his head, thought for a moment—and said:
Don't be afraid, I'll help you, so be it.
He picked some healing herbs in the clearing, tore a strip from his clothes and bandaged the animal's leg.
It'll heal soon. Now off you go. And don't let me catch you again.
He stamped his foot.
Of course, nobody at home believed Jack. They said in the town that he hadn't been able to catch the creature. They gossiped a bit—and forgot about it. But it's said that he found a mountain of gold right on his doorstep. Is this true? Well, nobody can say.
