Drago and the Fair Choice at the Stony River Crossing

In a cold stony gap of the rocky Balkan ridge, a swift icy river rushed over large rocks. The old stone bridges were broken. So the villagers relied on a quiet man named Drago. Drago made his home in a tiny stone hut beside the water. He was the only ferryman of this rocky pass, guiding a sturdy oak boat across the wild current by pulling a thick rope.

Drago was a man of few words. He had a peaceful spirit, like the quiet warrior-saints told of in old tales. He did not seek praise. He simply kept his boat safe and his heart honest. Every day, he watched the hillside flocks graze on the steep slopes above the river crossing.

One chilly afternoon, a loud argument broke out at the river landing. Master Vuk, a rich man who owned hundreds of sheep, marched down with his strong helpers. He held a small lamb with a black spot on its ear. Behind him walked young Elena, a poor girl who looked after her family’s tiny flock.

“This girl stole my lamb!” Vuk shouted to the crowd gathered at the shore. “I found her holding it. She must be punished!”

Elena wept, her hands shaking. “No, please! Its mother died last month. I fed this little one warm milk from a spoon every morning. It is my only lamb!”

The villagers looked at Vuk’s large, angry helpers. They looked at the rich man’s fine clothes. No one wanted to make Vuk angry. Slowly, one by one, the people began to nod. They moved away from Elena. They whispered that it was best to let Vuk have his way. The crowd moved in one direction, leaving Elena alone.

“Put the lamb in your oak boat, ferryman,” Vuk ordered Drago. “We are crossing now, and this beast comes with me.”

Drago did not move. He looked at Elena’s tearful eyes. Then he looked at the lamb. The little animal did not look at Vuk. Instead, it tried to pull away from the rich man’s grip, turning its head toward Elena.

“We must have a fair listening first,” Drago said. His voice was calm, but it held the weight of a stone bridge.

“There is nothing to listen to!” Vuk snapped. “I am the master of these hills. If you do not row us across now, I will take your boat. You will never work this river again.”

Drago knew this threat was real. Without his boat, he would have no way to buy food. Yet, he stood firm. He did not raise his hands or speak in anger. He simply stood between Vuk’s men and the frightened girl.

“The truth does not care about wealth,” Drago said softly. “Let us see who the lamb knows. Elena, stand back and call your lamb.”

Vuk laughed, but his helpers stepped back, surprised by the boatman’s quiet courage. Elena walked a few paces away and gave a soft, familiar whistle. The lamb quickly wiggled free from Vuk’s grasp. It ran to Elena, wagging its tail and resting its head against her wool skirt.

“Now, Master Vuk, you call,” Drago said.

Vuk stomped his heavy boot and shook his heavy staff. “Come here, stupid beast!” he roared.

The lamb shivered and hid behind Drago’s boots. The crowd became very silent. The truth was as clear as the icy river water.

Vuk stared angrily at Drago, but the boatman stood like an ancient rock, protecting the girl and her lamb. Vuk’s helpers looked down, ashamed, and refused to push Drago. Grumbling, Vuk turned and marched away.

Drago lost Vuk’s coins that day, but Elena was safe. That night, in the village square, people sat around the fire. They did not tell tales of loud battles. Instead, they told of a quiet ferryman who had the courage to stand for what was right.

Moral: True courage is standing quietly for the truth, even when the crowd moves the other way and the cost is great.