Once upon a time, in the infinite land of dreams, there was an old country road that was dangerous to venture down. Many travellers disappeared after encountering a very tall and powerful ogre. A local legend tells of a magician who had fallen victim to him.

This road crossed a small village, ran alongside a river and continued far beyond the surrounding mountains.

In this village lived a man nicknamed “Corky.” Despite his naivety, he was often entrusted with tending herds. Cows, goats or sheep... he had never lost a single animal.

One day, the cleverest and most mischievous villagers decided to test Corky’s naivety. They offered him a very special herd to watch over and feed in the mountains. A herd of holes!

— “Corky!” they said. “You, the best herdsman in the village, we will pay you twenty gold coins to lead the herd you see over there!”

— “But there is nothing there!” Corky replied.

— “What! You cannot see the herd of holes? Yet it is most certainly there!” all the villagers proclaimed, flashing pleasant smiles.

Corky was naive, but not stupid. Feigning the greatest innocence, he decided to play along.

He became so convincing that the tricksters began to think Corky was more mad than foolish.

Corky made the villagers believe he could see holes of every kind. Big ones, smaller ones, perfectly round ones, misshapen holes, and so on.

To make sure he had thoroughly impressed them, Corky put on a sad expression. He pretended to remember a hole that had escaped into a ravine. “I could never find it again, because ravines are enormous sedentary holes that like to be left alone,” he said as he waved goodbye to the village and set off along the famous ogre road.

A few hours later, he stopped at the foot of a green hill. Energetically, he began tearing up grass to imitate the appetite of his herd of holes. He planned to trick the villagers by inviting them to come and witness the herd’s voracity. Often the butt of their jokes, Corky saw this as a unique opportunity to get a little respite.

Among the mountain grasses, Corky found a patch of carrots. He ate one and found it delicious.

Corky continued perfecting his trick. He was working so intently... that he failed to notice the arrival of the ogre, who seemed very hungry.

— “What are you doing?” the ogre nevertheless asked, salivating as he addressed what would become his meal.

Corky jumped. Quick-witted and keeping his fear under control, he tried to convince the ogre that his herd of holes really existed.

— “I am feeding my holes. They must be fattened before the bitter cold arrives.”

— “But I cannot see anything! What are your holes made of?” replied the ogre.

Corky had no time to answer. He saw a freshly uprooted carrot rise into the air, then disappear piece by piece. It looked like a hole devouring a carrot. Strangely, this invisible hole cast a shadow on the ground. Like a hole with... rabbit ears.

Corky answered with a question: “And what about yours? What are they made of? Rabbits...?”

— “Why yes, they are rabbits! One day, a magician I was about to sink my teeth into turned his rabbits into holes. He did not want me to devour them. He sacrificed himself for his rabbits. What a strange fellow! Today, I cannot eat them; but I have an excellent memory of that meal, because the magician tasted very good. I am no fool: I stuff the magical rabbits with carrots. Anyway, I hope they will become real rabbits again.”

Corky was very pleased that the ogre had so much to say. The delay gave him more time to think.

— “One day, I tried eating a hole. I must admit it is not very good; it leaves you with a hollow in your stomach. Besides, I consider myself lucky: I have not yet crushed any holes while moving around. I have to be very careful where I put my feet, because these holes multiply at a furious rate. What is your holes’ favourite food?” the ogre continued, licking his lips.

Corky caught his breath and wiped away his fear of the ogre. If he was going to be devoured, it would be amid laughter. “Oh! My holes? I feed them ogres! Aren’t you afraid? It has been a very long time since they last ate. They are so hungry and so thin that, despite all my experience tending them, I can barely see them.”

The ogre burst out laughing: “Me, eaten by a hole! Ha! Ha! Ha!... By those holes? They are so thin you cannot even see them. Why do you feed them so poorly?”

“You know... ogres do not exactly roam the roads. Have you ever eaten mocking holes?” Corky said as he stuffed his pockets with carrots. “I know where you can find plenty of them. Follow me!”

So the ogre followed Corky and his herd of holes. He was unafraid, for he was not afraid of holes, especially those belonging to the little man. Even so, the ogre offered to bring up the rear of the herd. For one thing, he would keep an eye on Corky and, for another, he would decide whether he would also eat the brave little man’s holes.

Corky led the ogre higher up the neighbouring mountain until they reached the edge of a deep crevasse. He emptied his pockets of all the carrots he had gathered, placing them near the ogre’s feet. The ogre noticed nothing.

The ogre knew the place. Indeed, a little farther down was his lair in a cave.

— “Look, there is a family of mocking holes in there!...” Corky said in a low voice. Then, in the same tone, he continued: “...there are mischievous holes hiding in the spaces. If someone shouts, the holes repeat it several times, more and more softly. Do you know why?...”

— “Because it is only an echo!” replied the ogre.

— “Yes! But the echo is made by holes standing one behind another. The last one repeats with all its strength. It is often too far away for us to hear,” Corky invented.

— “Why yes, that is true! The last one is always very hard to hear,” the ogre foolishly agreed... a little disconcerted.

— “If you want proof of what I am saying, you only have to say the word ‘carrot’ three times!”

The ogre no longer knew how to get out of the trap his little ogre brain had got itself into. Still, he suspected a trick. So he asked Corky to move away, afraid Corky might try to push him. Then he shouted “carrot” just once. And the echo did the rest...

Then the echo repeated the word “carrot” many times and, of course, more and more softly.

But the echo sounded like a call to the rabbit-holes, which were drawn to the carrots Corky had dropped at the ogre’s feet. So many came that the ogre staggered and fell into the void while trying to dodge the countless magical rabbit-holes rushing towards him.

Corky stepped towards the edge of the precipice. There he saw the ogre breathe his last.

And at that instant, all the rabbit-holes became real rabbits again.

Corky went down into the ogre’s cave and discovered many treasures. Setting off on another adventure, he took to the road again to find the owners of those various fortunes. He also tried to comfort the grieving families whose members had filled the monstrous hole that was the ogre’s stomach. He made them laugh by describing the surprise of the people in his village when they were overrun by thousands of magical rabbits.