The Parable Of The Wolf

The Parable of the Wolf

On a fine spring day, an errant young Wolf wandered away from his pack and, in a sunny forest glade, encountered a Hunter.

"Please don't kill me!" said the Wolf, as the Hunter raised his gun. "I'm not here to hurt you!"

"I don't believe you," replied the Hunter. "Everyone knows that wolves are vile, dangerous creatures. You have claws that rip and tear - how can I possibly trust you?"

"If I pull out my claws," said the Wolf, "will you let me go?"

"Of course," said the Hunter. "Why would I lie to you?"

One by one, the Wolf pulled out his claws. The Hunter watched with a lazy smirk, and when the Wolf was done, he lowered his gun.

"I believe you now," said the Hunter. "You're free to go."

"Thank you!" said the Wolf, who tottered home on bloody paws and told his pack of the Hunter's benevolence. "It's only clawed wolves that the hunters don't like," he said. "So long as we remove them, we'll never be shot." And though some wolves disagreed with this, the most fearful of them listened, and soon a third of the pack was clawless.

A month went by, and in due course, the young Wolf found himself once more alone in the forest. A twig cracked behind him, and when he turned, there was the Hunter, his shiny gun at the ready.

"Wait!" said the Wolf. "I've got no claws, remember? I'm not dangerous!."

"I'd like to believe you," the Hunter said, "but last week, I heard that a little girl was mauled by something with big, sharp teeth, and your teeth look pretty sharp to me."

"If I pull out my teeth," said the Wolf, "will you let me go?"

"Of course," said the Hunter. "Why would I lie to you?"

One by one, the Wolf pulled out his teeth. The Hunter watched with silent intent, and when the Wolf was finished, he let his gun droop low.

"I can see you're a well-behaved pup," said the Hunter. "Go, be on your way."

"Thank you!" said the Wolf, and lolloped home, his jaws dripping blood, to tell the pack of the Hunter's caution. "Something with fangs has committed a terrible crime," he said. "So long as we don't look like them, we'll never be mistaken for monsters." And though the eldest wolves exchanged worried looks, the younger ones listened, and soon a third of the pack was toothless, too.

Another month went by, until one day, drinking at his favourite part of the river, the Wolf realised he wasn't alone, and raised his head to see the Hunter walking towards him, his gun once more at the ready.

"This stream is in my territory," the Wolf said, panicked and puzzled. "What are you doing here? I have neither claws nor teeth, and pose no possible threat to you."

"You don't, it's true," said the Hunter, "but many among your pack have both teeth and claws. How am I to trust your good intentions when you associate with such creatures?"

"If I chased away the toothed and clawed members of my pack," said the Wolf, "will you no longer be afraid of me?"

"Of course," said the Hunter. "Why would I lie to you?"

"I'll do it, then," said the Wolf, and when the Hunter gave the nod, he hurried back to his pack, assembled all the obedient wolves, and told them what had to be done. Though some were troubled by the Hunter's presence in their territory, they all agreed it made no sense to have sacrificed their claws and teeth while still associating with those who hadn't - after all, their stance was a principled one, and what good was principle if it wasn't firmly applied? With that, they banded together to chase the other wolves away, and when they were finished, more than a third of the pack was gone.

His task achieved, the Wolf returned to the river, where the Hunter was patiently waiting, and told him the good news.

"It's done!" he said. "The only wolves left are those without claws, or those without teeth, or those without both, like me."

"I'm glad to hear it," said the Hunter. "I hope the others didn't give you too much trouble?"

"Some of them snapped at us, it's true," said the Wolf, "and others swiped at us with their claws. It was frightening; I understand now why you were afraid."

"That's good," said the Hunter, and tipped his hat as he strolled back the way he'd come.

That night, as the remaining wolves lay sleeping, the Hunter and his fellows snuck up on the den and started shooting. The Wolf awoke in terror and confusion to the sound of gunshots and the howls of his dying friends. Desperately, he tried to fight back, but his toothless jaws found no grip on the limbs of the hunters, and his clawless paws left not a dent in their sturdy coats. All too soon, he was knocked to the ground, and as he lay there, panting in fear, the Hunter came and stood over him.

"Why are you doing this?" cried the Wolf. "I did everything you asked!"

The Hunter shrugged. "At the end of the day, a wolf's a wolf. We never could've trusted you."

Horrified, the Wolf asked, "Then why did you have us pull out our claws and remove our teeth and chase away our friends?"

"Because you were strong together," came the reply. "Like this, you're weak."

"But you said you weren't afraid of us!" begged the Wolf.

The Hunter smiled, and sighed, and raised his gun. "Oh, little pup," he said, "this was never about fear. Why would I lie to you?" And before the Wolf could answer, he pulled the trigger.