This story comes from Korea. People there love stories about tigers. Those stories are written in a different alphabet called Hang-gul, so I’ve re-written it for you.
In the old, old days, when tigers still smoked pipes stuffed with tobacco, there lived a brave little salt-seller. He sold his salt in all the hills and valleys of Korea. On his travels he had seen many strange and scary things, so he was no longer afraid of anything. After selling salt at the foot of Golden Green Mountain, he prepared to go over the peak. The townsfolk grew panicked, telling him: “there is a terrible tiger on the mountain. It is very big, and has eaten many of our people. Please don’t go!” But the little salt-seller was determined: “I am not afraid. I have seen tigers before.” The townspeople cried: “but yesterday the tiger ate our blacksmith! And the day before our medicine woman! Please, please don’t go!” The little salt-seller continued packing up his wares.
The townspeople cried: “The tiger is so terrible: last week, it swallowed all the members of our council. Please, please, PLEASE don’t go!” The little salt-seller told them: “You are all very afraid, but I am not. I will go up Golden Green Mountain. I will conquer this terrible tiger. And I will come back to show you what I have done” This time, the townspeople were too scared to repeat their pleas. The little salt-seller set off, up the mountain. Halfway up, he heard the low growl of a tiger. Three-quarters of the way up, he saw the stripes of a tiger. And at the top, in a clearing, he met the tiger. The townspeople had been right: it was a very big, terrible tiger. The little salt-seller slowly pulled from his knapsack the hank of rope he always carried with him. Just before the tiger swallowed him, the little salt-seller flicked his wrist and looped the rope around the tiger’s snout. From the inside, the tiger was even bigger than it looked from the outside.
The little salt-seller wandered into the tiger’s belly, where he met many of the townsfolk who had been swallowed. They all cried: “we are trapped! Help us escape, please!” The little salt-seller said: “I am hungry. Let us eat.” He took out his knife and cut some meat from the tiger’s belly. He said to the blacksmith: “start a fire, and we will cook a hearty meal.” Together they layered enough slices of meat for themselves, the medicine woman, and all the members of the council. The great terrible tiger did not like the feeling of a barbecue in its belly. It began to coil, writhe and leap about.
The little salt-seller grabbed his rope, walked to the end of the tiger’s belly and pulled. He called to the blacksmith: “help me heave,” and they pulled further toward the back end of the tiger. He called to the medicine woman: “heave, heave,” and the three of them pulled until they were right against the tiger’s back end. He called to the members of the council “heave, heave, HEAVE!” And all together with one last pull they tumbled out of the tiger’s back end, pulling the terrible creature inside-out through its own bumhole. Together they marched down the mountain, with the great and terrible tiger on their shoulders. The townspeople waiting below jumped with joy when they saw the returning folks. Then there was a great feast, after which the brave little salt-seller said: “I told you I would come back. And now I must leave, leave, leave.”