Futilely felling trees is sacrificing parents, ancestors, and compromising the future of the new generations.
The elders affirmed that a grown person needed those smaller than themselves, and vice versa: the young also needed the experience of those who had been seasoned by the trials of life.
In a village, a conflict arose between fathers and their sons. The sons decided to kill their parents in order to emancipate themselves. Among them, a young man harbored a sincere and profound love for his father, a just and wise man. He managed to evade the vigilance of the others and warned his parent about the patricidal plan. The son explained his plan:
"I will help you escape. You will hide in the thickets that border the fields, far away over there. I will bring you food."
He dug a large hole behind the house to have him leave right under the noses of the others. He concealed his father on the same day that all the others were slaughtered.
Two moons passed after the massacre. A young woman went to the fields with her child on her back. She laid him down in the shade, grabbed her hoe, and began her work. While she was toiling, a snake with black and glossy scales silently coiled around the baby. It was too late to prevent anything once she noticed it. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she remained composed. Without a scream, she took out a small alarm whistle made from a gazelle horn from her cloth wrap and blew with all her might. Soon, a multitude of young women, young men, and children arrived with machetes and firearms. They discovered the baby entwined by the serpent like a cassava plant. Striking the reptile was impossible without risking harm to the infant, that was the crux of the problem. Time passed, and no one had a solution to offer.
The young man recounted the situation to his father.