It happened once that Mullah Nasruddin was sitting in the sunlight with a group of friends outside a teahouse, and one of the group was boasting about putting a pair of thieves to flight.

“They were a pair of big, shifty looking ruffians, and I knew, the moment I saw them, the way they were coming toward me they meant to rob me. So before they could do anything I picked up my stick and got to work on the first one, and bam! bam! – before they knew it, they were running for the hills with blood on their faces.”

The group nodded in admiration. Then Nasruddin said, thoughtfully, “Yes, something similar happened to me once.”

“Tell us about it, Mullah,” said one of the friends.

“Once I was crossing the desert,” said Nasruddin, “and I came face to face with a group of Janissaries, armed to the teeth. And I made them run.”

The friends looked at each other in astonishment – Janissaries were the fiercest of soldiers, and Nasruddin was not exactly muscular. One asked, “How did you do it, Mullah?”

“It was easy,” said Nasruddin. “I ran, and they ran after me.”