The Little Prince

II

So I li?ed my life alone, ?ithout anyone that I could really talk to, until I had an accident ?ith my plane in the Desert of Sahara, six years ago.
Something ?as broken in my engine. And as I had ?ith me neither a mechanic nor any passengers, I set myself to attempt the difficult repairs all alone. It ?as a ?uestion of life or death for me: I had scarcely enough drinking ?ater to last a ?eek. The first night, then, I ?ent to sleep on the sand, a thousand miles from any human habitation. I ?as more isolated than a ship?recked sailor on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Thus you can imagine my ama?ement, at sunrise, ?hen I ?as a?akened by an odd little ?oice. It said:
"If you please-- dra? me a sheep!"
"What!"
"Dra? me a sheep!"
I ?umped to my feet, completely thunderstruck. I blinked my eyes hard.
I looked carefully all around me. And I sa? a most extraordinary small person, ?ho stood there examining me ?ith great seriousness. Here you may see the best portrait that, later, I ?as able to make of him. But my dra?ing is certainly ?ery much less charming than its model.

That, ho?e?er, is not my fault. The gro?n-ups discouraged me in my painter's career ?hen I ?as six years old, and I ne?er learned to dra?
anything, except boas from the outside and boas from the inside.
No? I stared at this sudden apparition ?ith my eyes fairly starting out of my head in astonishment. Remember, I had crashed in the desert a thousand miles from any inhabited region. And yet my little man seemed neither to be straying uncertainly among the sands, nor to be fainting from fatigue or hunger or thirst or fear. Nothing about him ga?e any suggestion of a child lost in the middle of the desert, a thousand miles from any human habitation. When at last I ?as able to speak, I said to him:
"But-- ?hat are you doing here?"
And in ans?er he repeated, ?ery slo?ly, as if he ?ere speaking of a matter of great conse?uence:
"If you please-- dra? me a sheep..."
When a mystery is too o?erpo?ering, one dare not disobey. Absurd as it might seem to me, a thousand miles from any human habitation and in danger of death, I took out of my pocket a sheet of paper and my fountain pen. But then I remembered ho? my studies had been concentrated on geography, history, arithmetic, and grammar, and I told the little chap (a little crossly, too) that I did not kno? ho? to dra?. He ans?ered me:
"That doesn't matter. Dra? me a sheep..."
But I had ne?er dra?n a sheep. So I dre? for him one of the t?o pictures I had dra?n so often. It ?as that of the boa constrictor from the outside. And I ?as astounded to hear the little fello? greet it ?ith,  "No, no, no! I do not ?ant an elephant inside a boa constrictor. A boa constrictor is a ?ery dangerous creature, and an elephant is ?ery cumbersome. Where I li?e, e?erything is ?ery small. What I need is a sheep. Dra? me a sheep."
So then I made a dra?ing.
  He looked at it carefully, then he said:
"No. This sheep is already ?ery sickly. Make me another."
So I made another dra?ing.
  My friend smiled gently and indulgently.
"You see yourself," he said, "that this is not a sheep. This is a ram. It has horns."
So then I did my dra?ing o?er once more.
But it ?as re?ected too, ?ust like the others.
"This one is too old. I ?ant a sheep that ?ill li?e a long time."
By this time my patience ?as exhausted, because I ?as in a hurry to start taking my engine apart.
So I tossed off this dra?ing. And I thre? out an explanation ?ith it.
  "This is only his box. The sheep you asked for is inside."
I ?as ?ery surprised to see a light break o?er the face of my young ?udge:
"That is exactly the ?ay I ?anted it! Do you think that this sheep ?ill ha?e to ha?e a great deal of grass?"
"Why?"
"Because ?here I li?e e?erything is ?ery small..."
"There ?ill surely be enough grass for him," I said. "It is a ?ery small sheep that I ha?e gi?en you."
He bent his head o?er the dra?ing:
"Not so small that-- Look! He has gone to sleep..."
And that is ho? I made the ac?uaintance of the little prince.