We are told that Dingbo must never catch up with Dangbo for if he did then there would not be any more stories. As long as Dangbo is ahead of Dingbo there will continue to be stories. There was, however, a time in history, a long long time ago when the stories nearly ended for Dangbo was incapacitated and just narrowly escaped being caught by Dingbo.
Dangbo was running away from Dingbo as he had been running from time immemorial, or from the time that people began to tell stories. Suddenly he stepped on a thorn and could not run any further. He sat down and put his right foot on his left knee and inspected the sole of his foot. He right away saw the thorn that was lodged deep inside his heavily calloused sole. He could not pull it with his bare fingers. He had to have a needle. He realized to his dismay that the needle he always stuck in the collar of his gho for times like this was no longer there. It must have fallen out somewhere as he ran. But he would have to hurry because he knew that Dingbo was close behind him.
He was sitting there quite helpless when a brokpa passed him.
Full of hope he eagerly asked, “Ashang Brokpa, please lend me a needle.”
The Brokpa turned to him: “No! I won’t lend you my needle,” he said quite indifferently, probably unaware of the danger he was causing to the world of stories.
“Mouse, Mouse, please gnaw at the bag of the brokpa,” requested Dangbo of a mouse that came and crouched near them.
“No, no, I won’t gnaw at his bag,” squeaked the mouse.
“Cat, Cat, catch this mouse,” Dangbo asked a cat that had just stopped by. By now Dangbo was getting nervous for he knew that Dingbo would soon be catching up with him.
“No, no, I don’t want to catch the mouse,” meowed the cat.
“Dog, Dog, chase the cat,” said Dangbo as a dog turned up, having heard the meowing cat.
“No, no, I won’t chase the cat,” barked the dog as he lay down to watch the growing crowd of strangers.
“Stick, Stick, beat this dog,” shouted Dangbo loudly to a stick lying on the side of the road.
“No, no, I won’t beat the dog,” replied the stick lazily as he stretched out and lay deeper in the grass.
Dangbo turned desperately to the flickering fire which had been lit by some travelers who had passed this way and begged, “Fire, Fire, burn the stick.”
“No, no, I won’t burn the stick.” replied the fire, defiantly flaming up and crackling.
Now Dingbo could be seen in the distance coming closer and closer. Dangbo had to do something before he was caught. He saw a stream and shouted, “Water, Water, put out the fire.”
“No, no, I won’t put out the fire,” sang the water as it flowed down the stream.
Dangbo had to go on but he could not walk. He got up and took a few faltering steps and then fell back. He looked around miserably as a ram happened to come by. “Ram, Ram, drink up the water,” he pleaded.
It is not quite clear whether the ram actually heard this plea or whether he was simply very thirsty but he promptly walked over to the stream and began to drink thirstily from the stream lapping up huge gulps of the water. This started up a whole chain of events and Dangbo escaped being caught by Dingbo.
As the ram began to drink the water the startled water splashed up and put out the fire. The fire flickered for a while and then rose fiercely and scorched the stick. The stick stood upright, did a quick somersault, and began to hit the dog. The dog yelped and whimpered and ran after the cat who hissed and scolded and ran after the mouse, who let out a big squeak and began to gnaw in earnest at the brokpa’s bag. The brokpa seeing all this said, “Here, here, take the needle and tell the mouse to stop gnawing at my brand-new bag.”
Dangbo gladly took the needle, loosened the thorn and picked it out and stood up and instantly took to his heels just as Dingbo reached the spot where Dangbo had sat. He missed Dangbo by a hair’s breath. The great chase through time was on once again.
Thus every story must begin with Dangbo....Dingbo or Dangbo thik naki wenda, Dingbo thik naki wenda....Dangbo must always be ahead of Dingbo so that stories can follow...