The Ox-Boy of Ur

Ahead of the line of travelers was a farmer, shouting down into the deep ditch between the road and the river. What Zim had heard was coming from the ditch. The animal’s urgent lowing seemed to be cries for help. Without a thought of the bonds that held him, Zim hurried in the direction of the farmer, only to be brought up short when those in front of him did not turn in the direction of the ditch as well. Zim called out in dismay, and Udul, who was at the head of the line, heard him. Seeing that Zim wanted to approach the farmer, and perhaps curious himself at what was causing the animal grief, Udul moved the line in the exact direction Zim most wanted to go.

The farmer had stopped his yelling at the approach of so many on-lookers, but he was still red with anger. Below them all, mooing in fear and thrashing his large horned head back and forth, was a black and brown ox, yoked to a cart of marsh grass. Zim sized up the problem in an instant.

“He cannot remember how he got down there!” Zim cried. “The sides of the ditch look like walls to him! He thinks he is trapped down there forever!”

The farmer nodded. “Aye, that is the way of it. He is my neighbor’s beast, and he will not be led by me at all! Look where he almost gored me!” The farmer showed them a long, red scratch, still oozing blood, across his chest.

The boy turned to the guards. “If you would allow it, I would help this man and the poor beast,” said Zim earnestly.

“Mind your own business,” stated the big guard flatly.

The small guard shook his head sadly. “And what if the ox gores you, Young One? What will I tell Master Padda then?”

Zim turned to Dil and Zil. “This ox is just like my own ox Tu-gur! I can help him!”

Before they, too, told him no, Zim gave a piercing, three-note whistle between his teeth, and the ox stopped his head thrashing. The animal gave a little shake and looked up at the boy.

Za-bar said in surprise, “The boy is a mage!”

The ox mooed again, and this time it sounded almost like a question. Someone in the crowd laughed.

The lumah from Lagash said, “Let the boy do his best for the beast. It is clear the gods have favored him with a gift. It may even anger the gods if he is not allowed to help the animal. Did not the great goddess Inanna have a wild ox?”

“If you get hurt, Master Padda will likely sell me in your stead, boy,” Dil said with a frown. “May the great gods watch over you and calm this frightened beast!”

Once Zim was freed from the ropes, he moved down the sloped sides of the ditch with measured steps, reaching into his travel bag for the yellow root he had dug many days before. He broke the root in half, and approached the animal slowly. The ox had tipped his head to the side and was watching the boy with one wary eye.

Zim held out the yellow root, and the ox reached out with his nose to smell the offering. Zim’s heart fell when the animal pulled his head back without accepting the root, but he need not have worried. The animal was just making up his mind whether to trust this stranger or not. In another moment, he took a step toward the boy and reached for the root with his mouth.

The boy stood right between the animal’s horns as the ox chomped the root. He rubbed the creature on the little swirl of hair between his eyes. Then with a step and a twist, Zim was on the ox’s back!

The crowd of onlookers gasped, and the farmer shook his head in amazement. Zim leaned forward and seemed to speak into the animal’s right ear. He kicked his heels into the ox’s sides, and wonder of wonders, the animal began to slowly walk straight ahead, gradually climbing as he moved forward. When he reached the top, the ox stepped over the rim of the ditch, pulling the cart steadily behind him. Once on level ground, it was hard to tell who was more surprised, the ox or the farmer! Not a reed had fallen from the loaded cart.

Zim slid down from the animal’s back, and walked around to face him. He gave the ox the other half of the yellow root, and tugged his big ear gently. “You did well, friend,” Zim said quietly.