thenarratorcrashesinthedesertandmakestheacquaintanceofthelittleprince SoIlivedmylifealone,withoutanyonethatIcouldreallytalkto,untilIhadanaccidentwithmyplaneintheDesertofSahara,sixyearsago.Somethingwasbrokeninmyengine.AndasIhadwithmeneitheramechanicnoranypassengers,Isetmyselftoattemptthedifficultrepairsallalone.Itwasaquestionoflifeordeathforme:Ihadscarcelyenoughdrinkingwatertolastaweek. Thefirstnight,then,Iwenttosleeponthesand,athousandmilesfromanyhumanhabitation.Iwasmoreisolatedthanashipwreckedsailoronaraftinthemiddleoftheocean.Thusyoucanimaginemyamazement,atsunrise,whenIwasawakenedbyanoddlittlevoice.Itsaid: "Ifyouplease--drawmeasheep!" Ijumpedtomyfeet,completelythunderstruck.Iblinkedmyeyeshard.Ilookedcarefullyallaroundme.AndIsawamostextraordinarysmallperson,whostoodthereexaminingmewithgreatseriousness.Hereyoumayseethebestpotraitthat,later,Iwasabletomakeofhim.Butmydrawingiscertainlyverymuchlesscharmingthanitsmodel. That,however,isnotmyfault.Thegrown-upsdiscouragedmeinmypainter'scareerwhenIwassixyearsold,andIneverlearnedtodrawanything,exceptboasfromtheoutsideandboasfromtheinside. NowIstaredatthissuddenapparitionwithmyeyesfairlystartingoutofmyheadinastonishment.Remember,Ihadcrashedinthedesertathousandmilesfromanyinhabitedregion.Andyetmylittlemanseemedneithertobestrayinguncertainlyamongthesands,nortobefaintingfromfatigueorhungerorthirstorfear.Nothingabouthimgaveanysuggestionofachildlostinthemiddleofthedesert,athousandmilesfromanyhumanhabitation.WhenatlastIwasabletospeak,Isaidtohim: "But--whatareyoudoinghere?" Andinanswerherepeated,veryslowly,asifhewerespeakingofamatterofgreatconsequence:"Ifyouplease--drawmeasheep..." Whenamysteryistoooverpowering,onedarenotdisobey.Absurdasitmightseemtome,athousandmilesfromanyhumanhabitationandindangerofdeath,Itookoutofmypocketasheetofpaperandmyfountain-pen.ButthenIrememberedhowmystudieshadbeenconcentratedongeography,history,arithmetic,andgrammar,andItoldthelittlechap(alittlecrossly,too)thatIdidnotknowhowtodraw.Heansweredme: "Thatdoesn'tmatter.Drawmeasheep..." ButIhadneverdrawnasheep.SoIdrewforhimoneofthetwopicturesIhaddrawnsooften.Itwasthatoftheboaconstrictorfromtheoutside.AndIwasastoundedtohearthelittlefellowgreetitwith, "No,no,no!Idonotwantanelephantinsideaboaconstrictor.Aboaconstrictorisaverydangerouscreature,andanelephantisverycumbersome.WhereIlive,everythingisverysmall.WhatIneedisasheep.Drawmeasheep." Helookedatitcarefully,thenhesaid: "No.Thissheepisalreadyverysickly.Makemeanother." Myfriendsmiledgentlyandindulgenty. "Youseeyourself,"hesaid,"thatthisisnotasheep.Thisisaram.Ithashorns." SothenIdidmydrawingoveroncemore. Butitwasrejectedtoo,justliketheothers. "Thisoneistooold.Iwantasheepthatwilllivealongtime." Bythistimemypatiencewasexhausted,becauseIwasinahurrytostarttakingmyengineapart.SoItossedoffthisdrawing. AndIthrewoutanexplanationwithit. "Thisisonlyhisbox.Thesheepyouaskedforisinside." Iwasverysurprisedtoseealightbreakoverthefaceofmyyoungjudge: "ThatisexactlythewayIwantedit!Doyouthinkthatthissheepwillhavetohaveagreatdealofgrass?" "BecausewhereIliveeverythingisverysmall..." "Therewillsurelybeenoughgrassforhim,"Isaid."ItisaverysmallsheepthatIhavegivenyou." Hebenthisheadoverthedrawing: "Notsosmallthat--Look!Hehasgonetosleep..." AndthatishowImadetheacquaintanceofthelittleprince.