Not far from the seaside, an old shepherd grazed his herd. It happened many and many years ago, but the landscape was the same as today; the hut was identical to the present huts of Sardinian shepherds and the shepherd was identical to present shepherds: old but still strong. His name was Sadur; he lived with his wife, who was still young, and his daughter Greca. From time to time, when the red wing of a Phoenician sail could be seen on the silvery sea, some men went to the valley, setting fire to the huts, taking what they could, cutting sheep’s throats and banqueting under the trees. Sadur fiercely hated these unwelcome visitors that had ruined him several times. He often saved himself, the women and the herd moving to the mountains and coming back to the valley only when the red sails had slowly disappeared on the horizon. Despite the peace of the last years, Sadur was still worried… His only solace was playing some very common and reed flutes: the melody they produced was monotonous, but feeble and suave, that went astray like a lament in the big silence of the valley. Hearing the melancholic sound of his flute, Sadur felt his heart filling with dear memories. Everything seemed sweet to him: he was dreaming of seeing his daughter married to a vigorous young man and leaving her and her mother under a strong protection, and dying peaceful, under an oak, in the April sun. He had several flutes, more or less thin, and anytime he played, he tried them all, one by one. Each of them had a particular sound, and Sadur was able to create different melodies. One day he saw the Phoenician sails not far from the coast. He ran towards his women trembling and told them: “Escape with a good part of the herd: go to the cache you know. I’ll stay here with fifteen or twenty sheep: they’ll believe that I live here alone and will banquet. In the meantime you will be able to save yourselves and we’ll meet again after their departure”. The women left, and the elderly man stayed there. He pretended to be almost blind and started to play. Phoenicians, that found him there, believed that he lived alone with the few sheep lost in the nearby field. Then they went over there: they poked around the hut and destroyed it to light the fire with its branches, cut sheep’s throats and banqueted. When they finished their banquet, one of them ordered Sadur to play. Sadur took his flutes and played. All of a sudden that man ordered Sadur to play his flutes all together and said: “Otherwise I’ll make you beat”. The elderly man lined his flutes in a row creating the early of the Sardinian leoneddas. Taken by the sleepiness of spring afternoons, Phoenicians listened to the melody lying down on the grass and were hit by that. The young chief seemed enchanted. Little by little he fell asleep and it seemed that he had never slept so well in his life. When he woke up, he told the elderly man to ask him whatever he wanted. Sadur said: “Listen to me. I have a wife and a virgin daughter: please don’t touch them if you meet them.”. “You can make them come here”, the chief said, “you won’t be bothered anymore”. He still wanted to listen to the sound of the joined flutes and fall asleep another time in the grass. Sadur, the women and the herd came back, and the elderly man played again, and the young chief actually fell asleep. When he woke up and saw Greca, the place seemed more pleasant. “Would you give me the girl? I’ll marry her and stay here with my companions”. And so it was that one of the earlier Phoenician colonies in Sardinia formed, and the old Sadur kept playing, all together, his reed flutes.