The Pig Prophetess

In my hand is a copper coin that reeks of plum brandy and is scorched on one side. The blacksmith left it here last night. He came running in, red as a hot coal from laughing, and ordered two shots - though he only drinks at Easter. And all because of one pig, one cunning man, and a faith as old as the world, the kind that makes people ready to turn even a creature that grunts in a puddle all day into a prophet.

Our Karpo bought a piglet at the fair for half price. The seller warned him honestly: lazy as sin. The pig grew up so lazy she wouldn't even crawl to the trough - she waited for the food to come to her. So Karpo decided: if she won't fatten, let her at least bring in money. He announced to the people that his pig was a prophetess.

Whoever wanted to know their fate brought copper coins, tossed them to the pig and asked a question. And in front of the pig Karpo laid out three little boards: "yes", "no" and "wait a while yet". The pig was to poke her snout wherever the truth led. The truth, as it later turned out, was very fond of salo. Because before every question Karpo would slyly smear the right board with fat.

First came running Baba Palazhka with a bucket of pickled cucumbers as payment instead of coppers. She asks whether her old man will mend the fence. Karpo rubbed the "yes" board with his finger, as if brushing off dust. The pig sniffed and poked her snout right there. - He'll mend it, - said Karpo. - But with a sour face. Palazhka went off happy. Because when a prophecy smells of pickles, it's somehow closer to the truth.

After her the cantor asked about the service. The pig sneezed, because Karpo kicked up dust while shuffling the boards. - It'll be a short one, - said the cantor, and crossed himself with relief. Valentyn asked about his horse. The pig lay down on her side next to "wait a while yet". - So the horse is going to lie down, - Valentyn decided. - Time to buy new horseshoes. The line of people eager to ask a question only grew.

Okhrim the blacksmith was no fool. He noticed that after every "fate" Karpo wiped his fingers on his coat, and the pig went wherever the fat had just gleamed. The next day the blacksmith heated a copper coin red-hot in his forge, took it with his tongs and laid it near the pig. - Well now, prophetess, tell us: is Karpo an honest man, or is he fooling the whole village? Karpo went pale, but to save the miracle he smeared the "yes" board while laying them out.

The pig sniffed the hot coin from a distance, backed away and sat down with a look that said even she was ashamed of people. Karpo whispers: - To the board, you fool. To the board. But the pig suddenly turned and poked her snout straight into Karpo's hand. Because the salo on his fingers smelled stronger. Then she licked his sleeve. Then his pocket. And out of the pocket fell a piece of salo wrapped in a rag.

Okhrim lifted the scorched coin with his tongs and says: - Now I see it. The pig doesn't lie. She just showed us where the real pig is. Karpo's wife came out, silently took the boards and sniffed them. - So, Karpo, it wasn't fate that had a smell - it was your fingers? The people roared with laughter.

The pig grunted so gravely, as if confirming the testimony. The wife took the coppers, gave the pig some borshch, and set a trough down for Karpo. - Since you've gone and made a prophetess of yourself, you can sup according to her rank.