Ota's Tales

About an exceptional cactus - Dreams come true

By chance and luck, a camel caravan passed by once. It numbered more than a hundred camels. The caravan headed for a far-off town. On the camels sat people of different colors, different faiths, different voices, different actions. There were Arab warriors with hooked swords, for example, who frightened others because they never laughed and never spoke. There were slaves of the black color who did everything their master commanded them. And there were fat men with white caps. Those were the scientists. They were the ones who were protected by the warriors and tended by the slaves. Scientists have set themselves the task of exploring the local world. They were easy to recognize. Some looked downright ridiculous. They usually held a pencil and paper in their hands and wrote something down. What they observed, they wrote down. What they wrote down, they counted, thought, analyzed, deduced, estimated, argued or quarrel and came to conclusions. There were all sorts of experts. Some studied this and others that. The warriors found them ridiculous, but they paid in gold. And that was the only reason they chose to accompany them and risk their own lives for them. When they are escorted to a distant city, they will receive a very large reward.

A botanist scientist was also present in the caravan. While traveling, he collected every plant. It's almost as if he's playing a game of who collects the most. However, he only collected plants that he didn't have yet. He wanted to have as large a collection as possible when he returned home. Of course, he researched and described everything consistently. He was a scientist.

Cactus, seeing the camels, began to shout at them: "Here, come here, take me with you, please! I'm out of spikes! If you're thirsty, drink!" But the camels wouldn't answer him. They were too busy. They had to concentrate on the road. Their masters, the people, would scold them if they did anything stupid. And the people? They didn't hear the cactus. Or have you ever heard a plant speak?

The cactus tried harder and harder to get attention, but it didn't succeed at all. Then one of the camels, the one carrying the botanist when he saw how desperate the cactus was, strayed out of line and started walking toward him. The rider urged him to stand, but the animal didn't respond to the orders. It stopped near him. "If you want to come with us, my master will take you with him, just wait," the camel told the cactus, rejoicing at the news. "At last my dream will come true."

The whole caravan was waiting for the botanist. The botanist wondered what the camel had done. But when he saw the cactus without spikes, he jumped off the camel, astonished, and began to examine it closely. To the others he shouted, "Give me five minutes!" Then he began to feel the cactus. The cactus felt good, and he immediately got a good picture of the humans. "They must be good creatures, treating me so well," he said to himself. Now the scientist began to measure him. He quickly sketched it out in his notebook, and made a few notes with the sketch. "Um, the prickless cactus. Interestingly, all the cacti around have spines. Why don't you have them, then?" the scientist wondered aloud. "You're completely defenceless against herbivores as it is. Interesting. I'd take you with me, but you're too big." The cactus tried to say something to him, because he couldn't understand, but the scientist couldn't hear him. Then the botanist picked up his tools and said, "If I can't take you all, I'll only take a piece of you." And he began to dig up the cactus. It began to hurt him very much. He moaned and moaned, but it didn't do him any good. You couldn't hear him. And with the pain, he suddenly realized what good spines were. They were supposed to protect him from such an event. "Silly me," he said, "I'll surely die here now because of my foolishness. I wanted so much to go out into the world, but now I'd give anything to stay here peacefully." The scientist was still working, trying to do everything with precision, but quickly. But he didn't know about the pain the cactus was feeling. If he recognized it, he'd probably stop. But the botanist stopped anyway. Not because he realized everything. Not because he'd stopped caring about the cactus. But he was interrupted by the caravan leader's cries. They were being attacked by barbarians.

Suddenly, a huge number of men appeared with swords, bows, shields, and spears. They must have planned the whole thing well in advance. The scientists didn't know how to fight with swords, but they had pistols that fired bullets with a deafening bang. A fight ensued. Some fell to the ground, others ran to save their own lives. It was the scientists, ignorant of combat, who decided to flee. After their escape, it didn't take long. The fierce warriors won over the hired ones. There were too many for the caravan to fend them off. After the battle, the victors gathered up all the camels, loaded up the fallen belongings, their wounded men, and left the place quickly. Their aim was not to spread hatred and suffering. Their aim was only the wealth they had now acquired. And when someone stood in their way, they had no choice. They were given a choice between money or life.

The whole area was suddenly silent again. Then the animals and plants began to talk to each other. They talked about what had just happened. They talked about the people. Who they were. What they were doing. They discussed every detail they could see. But they understood nothing. Before they could finish, it was evening, and they were all fast asleep. In all their talking, no one noticed that there was no exceptional cactus in its place.

The others of its kind noticed that it was missing only in the morning rays, when they woke up again. The botanist scientist did not manage to plant it all back in the ground because of the raiders. The cactus was dying, so he did not speak to save energy.

In a few days it was all dried up because it did not have enough water. Now it would serve no one as food. It looked really bad. The companions would have liked to help it, but it was impossible. The oldest of the cacti said it was a punishment for its conceit.

After a week or so, the surviving scientists returned to the site with a few helpers to bury their companions. For they feared that they would otherwise be haunted like ghosts, and would never give them peace. One of the helpers planted the exhausted, thornless cactus back in the ground. It marked the place where the men had been buried. The cactus was not as strong as before, but it still lived.

It took a long time to recover. Even with the help of the other cacti, whom he despised so much at one time. And suddenly he was glad to be who he was. He was glad to be around friends he had not forgotten since. He lived happily, though his spines never grew back.

But who knows. Perhaps that has changed since then. Either ask the scientists who write everything down in detail, or go on an adventure of your own to discover the world. But above all, let's have somewhere to go back to. East or West, home's best.