And as in those days the like of it had never been witnessed by that people, their cries and exclamations increased every moment. The Tortoise was silent for a time, but at length the cauldron of his self-esteem began to boil, and his patience being exhausted, he exclaimed: "You who are shouting to others to look at what is plain enough to every one, hold your peace!" No sooner had he opened his lips, however, than he fell from on high, and the Geese exclaimed, "It is the part of friends to give advice and of the well-disposed to listen to it."

And the moral of this story is, that whoever listens not to the admonition of friends, with the hearing of acceptance, will have hastened his own destruction.



The Sagacious Snake

It is related that the infirmities of age had taken effect upon a Snake and through loss of strength he was unable to pursue his prey, and was bewildered in his proceedings how to obtain food. Life was impossible without food, and to hunt for it, had, through his weakness, become impracticable. Accordingly he thus reflected:

"Alas! for the strength of my youth; and now to expect its return and to hope for the recurrence of my animal vigour is a thing of the same complexion as to light a fire from water." He felt that what was passed could not be recalled, and he therefore busied himself with taking thought for the future, and said: "In lieu of the strength of youth I have a little experience which I have acquired, and a trifle of prudence. I must now base my proceedings on abstaining from injuring others and must begin to consider how I may obtain, for the remainder of my life, what may be the means of support."

He then went to the brink of a spring of water in which there were a number of frogs who had a potent King and one who was obeyed and renowned. The Snake cast himself down there in the dust of the road, like to a sufferer on whom calamity has fallen. A Frog speedily made up to him, and asked him: "I see thou art very sorrowful. What is the cause of it?" The Snake replied: "Who deserves more to grieve than I, whose maintenance was from hunting frogs? Today an event has occurred which has rendered the pursuit of them unlawful to me, and if I seriously designed to seize one, I could not." The Frog went away and told the King, who was amazed at this strange circumstance, and coming to the Snake, asked him: "What is the cause of this accident that has befallen thee and what act has brought down this upon thee?"

The Snake replied: "O King, greed plunged me into calamity, and this befell as follows: One day I attempted to seize a Frog, which fled from me and took refuge in the house of a holy man. My appetite led me to follow him into the house, which happened to be dark. The son of the holy man lay there asleep, and his great toe coming against me I fancied it was the Frog. From the ardour of my greediness I closed my teeth upon it, and the child died on the spot. The holy man discovered the fact, and from regret for his son, attacked me, and I, turning toward the open country, fled with speed, and the recluse pursued me and cursed me, and said: 'I desire of my Creator that He will make thee base and powerless, and cause thee to be the vehicle of the Frog-king. And, verily, thou shalt not have power to eat Frogs, save what their King shall bestow on thee as alms.' And now, of necessity, I have come hither that the King may ride upon me, and I have acquiesced in the will of God."

The matter pleased the King of the Frogs, and he thought that it would redound to his advantage; and he at once seated himself upon the Snake, and indulged in vainglorious airs in consequence.

Some time passed in this way. At last the Snake said: "May the life of the King be prolonged! I cannot do without food and sustenance, that I may support life thereon and fulfil this service." The King said: "The case is as thou sayest; I cannot do without my steed, and my steed cannot have strength without food." He then fixed two Frogs as his daily allowance, that he might use as his regular supply for breakfast and dinner. The Snake maintained himself on that allowance; and inasmuch as the attention he paid to the Frog-king involved a benefit to himself he did not find fault with it.

And this story is adduced to make it apparent that courtesy and humility are readier means to uproot an enemy than war and contest.



The Old Woman's Cat

In former times there lived an old woman in a state of extreme debility. She possessed a cot more narrow than the heart of the ignorant and darker than the miser's grave; and a Cat was her companion, which had never seen, even in the mirror of imagination, the face of a loaf, nor had heard from friend or stranger the name of meat. It was content if occasionally it smelt the odour of a mouse from its hole, or saw the print of the foot of one on the surface of a board, and if, on some rare occasion, by the aid of good fortune one fell into its claws, it subsisted a whole week, more or less, on that amount of food.

And, inasmuch as the house of the old woman was the famine-year of that Cat, it was always miserable and thin, and from a distance appeared like an idea.

One day, through excessive weakness, it had, with the utmost difficulty, mounted on the top of the roof; thence it beheld a Cat which walked proudly on the wall of a neighbouring house, and after the fashion of a destroying lion advanced with measured steps, and from excessive fat lifted its feet slowly. When the Cat of the old woman saw this, it was astonished and cried out, saying: "Thou, whose state is thus pleasant, whence art thou? and since it appears that thou comest from the banquet-chamber of the Khan of Khata, whence is this sleekness of thine, and from what cause this thy grandeur and strength?"

The Neighbour-Cat replied: "I am the crumb-eater of the tray of the Sultan. Every morning I attend on the court of the king, and when they spread the tray of invitation, I display boldness and daring, and in general I snatch off some morsels of fat meats, and of loaves made of the finest flour; and thus I pass my time happy and satisfied till the next day."

The Cat of the old woman inquired: "What sort of a thing may fat meat be? and what kind of relish has bread, made of fine flour? I, during my whole life, have never seen nor tasted aught save the old woman's broths, and mouse's flesh."

The Neighbour-Cat laughed, and said: "Therefore it is that one cannot distinguish thee from a spider, and this form and appearance that thou hast is a reproach to our whole race. If thou shouldst see the court of the Sultan and smell the odour of those delicious viands, thou wouldst acquire a fresh form."

The Cat of the old woman, said, most beseechingly, "O brother! thou art bound to me by neighbourship and kinship; why not this time, when thou goest, take me with thee? Perchance, by thy good fortune, I may obtain food."

The heart of the Neighbour-Cat melted at the speaker's lamentable position, and he resolved that he would not attend the feast without him. The Cat of the old woman felt new life at these tidings, and descending from the roof stated the case to his mistress. The old dame began to advise the Cat, saying: "O kind companion, be not deceived by the words of worldly people and abandon not the corner of content, for the vessel of covetousness is not filled save with the dust of the grave." But the Cat had taken into its head such a longing for the delicacies of the Sultan's table that the medicine of advice was not profitable to it.

In short, the next day, along with its neighbour, the old woman's Cat, with tottering steps conveyed itself to court, but before it could arrive there ill-fortune had poured the water of disappointment on the fire of its wish, and the reason was as follows:

The day before, the cats had made a general onslaught on the table, and raised an uproar beyond bounds, and annoyed, to the last degree, the guests and their host. Wherefore, on this day, the Sultan had commanded that a band of archers, standing in ambush, should watch, so that for every cat who, holding before its face the buckler of impudence should enter the plain of audacity, the very first morsel that it ate should be a liver-piercing shaft.

The old woman's Cat, ignorant of this circumstance, as soon as it smelt the odour of the viands, turned its face like a falcon to the hunting-ground of the table, and the scale of the balance of appetite had not yet been weighted by heavy mouthfuls, when the heart-piercing arrow quivered in its breast.

Dear friend! the honey pays not for the sting, Content with syrup is a better thing.



The Young Tiger

In the environs of Basrah there was an island of excessively pleasant climate, where limpid waters flowed on every side and life-bestowing zephyrs breathed around.

From its excessive exquisiteness they called it the "Joy-expanding Wilderness," and a Tiger bore sway there, such that from dread of him fierce lions could not set foot in that retreat.

He had lived much time in that wild, according to his wish, and had never seen the form of disappointment in the mirror of existence. He had a young one whose countenance made the world seem bright to him, and his intention was that when that young one came to years he would commit that solitude to his charge, and pass the rest of his life at ease in the corner of retirement. The blossom of his wish had not yet expanded on the stem of desire when the autumn of death gave the fruit of the garden of his existence to the mind of destruction.

And when this Tiger was seized by the claw of the Lion, Death, several wild beasts who for a long time entertained a desire for that wilderness made a unanimous movement and set about appropriating it. The young Tiger saw that he possessed not the strength to resist. He went voluntarily into exile, and amongst the wild beasts a huge contest arose. A blood-spilling Lion overcame all the others and brought the island into his own possession, and the young Tiger, having for some time endured distress in the mountains and wastes, conveyed himself to another haunt, and disclosed his affliction to the wild beasts of that district, asking their aid to find a remedy.

They, having received intelligence of the victory of the Lion, and his overpowering might, said: "O unfortunate! thy place is now in the possession of a Lion such that from terror of him the wild birds will not fly over that wilderness, and from fear of him the elephant will not approach. We have not strength to fight with him and thou too art not able to enter with him the arena of strife. Our opinion demands that thou shouldst betake thyself to his court, and with perfect loyalty enter his service."

These words seemed reasonable to the young Tiger, and he looked upon his best course to be this—that he should voluntarily enter the service of the Lion, and, to the extent of his ability, offer the duties of attendance. Through the intervention of one of the nobles he obtained the honour of waiting on the Lion, and, having become the object of the imperial regard, was appointed to an office suited to his spirit. Having tightly fastened the belt of obedience on the waist of affection the royal favour was constantly augmented and he incessantly displayed increased exertion in the affairs of the state.

Upon a certain time an important matter arose which called the Lion away to a distant jungle; and at that time the heat of the oven of the sky was unmitigated, and the expanse of waste and mountain like a furnace of glass fiercely inflamed. From the excessive heat of the air, the brains of animals were boiled in their craniums, and the crabs in the water were fried like fish in the frying-pan.

The Lion reflected: "At such a time, when the shell at the bottom of the deep, like a fowl on a spit, is roasting, an affair of this importance has occurred. Who may there be among my attendants who would not be affected by the labour and who, undeterred by the heat of the atmosphere, would approach this undertaking?"

In the midst of this reflection the Tiger came in with the line of attendants and observed that the Lion was thoughtful. On the ground of his tact and affection, he advanced near the throne of royalty, and was emboldened to ask the cause of that thoughtfulness, and having learned how the case stood, he took upon himself to accomplish the matter, and having been honoured with permission, he set off with a body of attendants, and, arriving at that place at noon, he betook himself to the accomplishment of that affair, and the instant that the business was settled to his satisfaction he changed his reins to return.

The officers who had been appointed to attend him unanimously represented as follows: "In such heat as this, all this distance has been traversed by the steps of completion, and now that the affair has been settled and the confidence placed in you by his majesty been demonstrated, it will certainly be advisable if you should repose a short time in the shade of a tree and allay the fiery tongue of thirst by drinking cool water."

The Tiger smiled and said: "My intimacy and rank with his majesty the king is a banner that I have by toil and effort set up. It would not be well to level it with the ground by indulgence and sloth. Without supporting trouble it is impossible to arrive at the carrying off of treasure, and unaccompanied by the thorn we cannot reap the enjoyment of the rose garden."

The informers furnished intelligence of this to the Lion, and recited the book of the affair, from preface to conclusion. The Lion nodded the head of approval, and said: "The people may be at peace in the just reign of that ruler who does not place his head on the pillow of repose." He then sent for the Tiger, and having distinguished him with special honours, committed that jungle to him, and, having bestowed on him the place of his sire, conferred on him, in addition, the dignity of being his heir.

And the use of this fable is, that thou mayest learn that to no one does the sun of his wish rise from the eastern quarter of hope without the diligent use of great exertion.



The Fox and the Drum

It is related that a Fox was once prowling over a moor, and was roaming in every direction in hope of scenting food. Presently he came to the foot of a tree, at the side of which they had suspended a drum, and whenever a gust of wind came, a branch of the tree was put in motion, and struck the surface of the drum, when a terrible noise arose from it.

The Fox, seeing a domestic fowl under the tree, who was pecking the ground with her beak, and searching for food, planted himself in ambush, and wished to make her his prey, when all of a sudden the sound of a drum reached his ear. He looked and saw a very fat form, and a prodigious sound from it reached his hearing. The appetite of the Fox was excited, and he thought to himself, "Assuredly its flesh and skin will be proportioned to its voice."

He issued from his lurking-place and turned toward the tree. The fowl being put on its guard by that circumstance, fled, and the Fox, by a hundred exertions, ascended the tree. Much did he labour till he had torn the drum, and then he found nought save a skin and a piece of wood. The fire of regret descended into his heart, and the water of contrition began to run from his eyes, and he said: "Alas! that by reason of this huge bulk which is all wind, that lawful prey has escaped from my hand, and from this empty form no advantage has resulted to me."

Loudly ever sounds the labour, But in vain—within is nought: Art thou wise, for substance labour, Semblance will avail thee nought.



The Sparrows and the Falcon

Two Sparrows once fixed their nest on the branch of a tree; and of worldly gear, water and grain sufficed them; while on the summit of a mountain, beneath which that tree lay, a Falcon had its abode, which, at the time of stooping on its quarry, issued from its lurking-place like lightning, and, like heaven's bolt, clean consumed the feebler birds.

Whenever the Sparrows produced young, and the time was near at hand for them to fly, that Falcon, rushing forth from its ambush, used to carry them off and make them food for its own young. Now, to those Sparrows—in accordance with the saying, "The law of home is a part of faith"—to migrate from that place was impossible, and yet from the cruelty of the tyrannous Hawk it was difficult to reside there.

On one occasion their young ones, having gained strength and put forth feathers and wings, were able to move; and the father and mother, pleased with the sight of their offspring, testified their joy at their attempt to fly.

Suddenly the thought of the Falcon passed through their minds, and, all at once, they began to lament from anxiety.

One of their children—in whose countenance the signs of ripe discretion were visible—having inquired the reason of their despondency, they recounted the history of the Falcon's oppression and of its carrying off their young, with all the particulars.

The son said; "The Causer of Causes has sent a cure for every sorrow. It is probable that if ye exert yourselves in repelling this misfortune both this calamity will be averted from our heads and this burden removed from your hearts."

These words pleased the Sparrows; and while one of them stopped to attend the young ones, the other flew forth in search of relief. He resolved in his mind on the way that he would tell his story to whatsoever animal his eyes first fell upon, and ask a remedy for his heart's distress from it.

It happened that a Salamander, having come forth from a mine of fire, was wandering in the spreading plain of the desert. When the glance of the Sparrow lighted upon him, and that strange form came into his view, he said to himself: "I have fallen upon good! Come on, I will disclose the grief of my heart to this marvellous bird; perhaps he may undo the knot of my affairs and may show me the way to a remedy." Then with the utmost respect, he advanced to the Salamander, and after the usual salutation, paid the compliment of offering service. The Salamander, too, in a kind tone, expressed the courtesy required toward travellers and said: "The traces of weariness are discernible in thy countenance. If this arises from journeying, be pleased to halt some days in this neighbourhood; and if the case be aught else, explain it, that, to the extent of my power, I may exert myself to remedy it."

The Sparrow loosed his tongue, and represented to the Salamander his piteous condition, after a fashion, that, had he told it to a rock, it would have been rent in pieces by his distress.

After hearing his tale, the Salamander, too, felt the fire of compassion kindled, and he said; "Grieve not! for I will this night take such measures as to consume the Falcon's abode and nest and all that therein is. Do thou point out to me thy dwelling, and go to thy offspring until the time I come to thee."

The Sparrow indicated his dwelling in such a way as not to leave a doubt in the mind of the Salamander; and with a glad heart turned toward his own nest. When the night came on, the Salamander, with a number of its own kind, each carrying a quantity of naphtha and brimstone, set off in the direction of the spot, and under the guidance of that Sparrow conveyed themselves to the vicinity of the Falcon's nest.

The latter, unaware of the impending misfortune, had, with its young, eaten plentifully and fallen asleep. The Salamanders cast upon their nest all the naphtha and brimstone that they had brought with them and turned back and the blast of justice fell upon those oppressors. They rose up from the sleep of negligence and all of them, with their abode and nest, were at once consumed to ashes.

And this instance is given that thou mayest know that every one who labours to repel an enemy, though he be small and weak, and his foe great and strong, may yet hope for victory and triumph.



The Hermit, the Thief, and the Demon

It is related that a Hermit of pure disposition, abstemious and virtuous, had made his cell in one of the environs of Baghdad, and passed his morning and evening hours in the worship of the All-wise King, and by these means had shaken his skirt clear from the dust of worldly affairs. He had bowed his head in the corner of contentment under the collar of freedom from care, and rested satisfied with the portion that was supplied to him from the invisible world.

One of his sincere disciples got knowledge of the poverty and fastings of the Holy Man, and by way of offering, brought to the hermitage a she buffalo, young and fat, with whose delicious milk the palate of desire was oiled and sweetened.

A thief beheld the circumstance, and his hungry appetite was excited; and he set off for the cell of the recluse. A demon, too, joined him in the likeness of a man. The thief asked him: "Who art thou, and whither goest thou?" He replied: "I am a demon, who have assumed this shape, and, putting on this guise, am going to the hermitage of the recluse, for many of the people of this country, through the blessing of his instruction, have begun to repent and to be converted and the market of our temptations has become flat. I wish to get an opportunity and kill him. This is my story which thou hast heard; now, tell me, who art thou and what is thy story?" The thief replied:

"I am a man whose trade is roguery, and I am occupied night and day with thinking how to steal some one's goods and impose the scar of affliction on his heart. I am now going, as the recluse has got a fat buffalo, to steal it and use it for my own wants." The demon said;

"Praise be to God that the bond of kinship is strong between us, and this alone is sufficient to ally us, since the object of both is to assail him."

They then proceeded on their way, and at night reached the cell of the recluse. The latter had finished the performance of his daily worship, and had gone to sleep, just as he was, on his prayer-carpet. The thief bethought himself, that if the demon attempted to kill him he would probably awake and make an outcry; and the other people who were his neighbours, would be alarmed, and in that case it would be impossible to steal the buffalo. The demon, too, reflected that if the thief carried off the buffalo from the house, he must of course open the door. Then the noise of the door would very likely awaken the recluse, and he should have to postpone killing him. He then said to the thief: "Do thou wait and give me time to kill the hermit, and then do thou steal the buffalo." The thief rejoined: "Stop thou till I steal the buffalo, and then kill the hermit."

This difference was prolonged between them, and at last the words of both came to wrangling. The thief was so annoyed that he called out to the recluse: "There is a demon here who wants to kill thee." The demon, too, shouted: "Here is a thief, who wants to steal thy buffalo."

The hermit was roused by the uproar, and raised a cry, whereupon the neighbours came, and both the thief and the demon ran way; and the life and property of the Holy Man remained safe and secure through the quarrel of his enemies.

When the two hostile armies fall to strife, Then from its sheath what need to draw the knife?



The King and the Hawk

It is related that in ancient times there was a King fond of hunting. He was ever giving reins to the courser of his desire in the pursuit of game, and was always casting the lasso of gladness over the neck of sport. Now this King had a Hawk, who at a single flight could bring down a pebble from the peak of the Caucasus, and in terror of whose claws the constellation Aquila kept himself in the green nest of the sky; and the King had a prodigious fondness for this Hawk and always cared for it with his own hands.

It happened one day that the Monarch, holding the Hawk on his hand, had gone to the chase. A stag leapt up before him and he galloped after it with the utmost eagerness. But he did not succeed in coming up with it, and became separated from his retinue and servants; and though some of them followed him, the King rode so hotly that the morning breeze could not have reached the dust he raised.

Meantime the fire of his thirst was kindled, and the intense desire to drink overcame the King. He galloped his steed in every direction in search of water until he reached the skirt of a mountain, and beheld that from its summit limpid water was trickling. The King drew forth a cup which he had in his quiver, and riding under the mountain filled the cup with that water, which fell drop by drop, and was about to take a draught, when the Hawk made a blow with his wing, and spilled all the water in the goblet. The King was vexed at this action, but held the cup a second time under the rock, until it was brimful. He then raised it to his lips again, and again the Hawk made a movement and overthrew the cup. The King rendered impatient by thirst, dashed the Hawk on the ground and killed it.

Shortly after a stirrup-holder of the King came up and saw the Hawk dead, and the Monarch athirst. He then undid a water-vessel from his saddle-cord and washed the cup clean, and was about to give the King a drink. The latter bade him ascend the mountain, as he had an inclination for the pure water which trickled from the rock; and could not wait to collect it in the cup, drop by drop. The stirrup-holder ascended the mountain and beheld a spring giving out a drop at a time with a hundred stintings; and a huge serpent lay dead on the margin of the fountain; and as the heat of the sun had taken effect upon it, the poisonous saliva mixed with the water of that mountain, and it trickled drop by drop down the rock.

The stirrup-holder was overcome with horror, and came down from the mountain bewildered, and represented the state of the case, and gave the King a cup of cold water from his ewer. The latter raised the cup to his lips, and his eyes overflowed with tears. The attendant asked the reason of his weeping. The King drew a sigh from his anguished heart and relating in full the story of the Hawk and the spilling of the water in the cup, said: "I grieve for the death of the Hawk, and bemoan my own deed in that without inquiry I have deprived a creature, so dear to me, of life." The attendant replied: "This Hawk protected thee from a great peril, and has established a claim to the gratitude of all the people of this country. It would have been better if the King had not been precipitate in slaying it, and had quenched the fire of wrath with the water of mildness."

The King replied; "I repent of this unseemly action; but my repentance is now unavailing, and the wound of this sorrow cannot be healed by any salve"; and this story is related in order that it may be known that many such incidents have occurred where, through the disastrous results of precipitation, men have fallen into the whirlpool of repentance.



The Mouse and the Frog

It is related that a Mouse had taken up its abode on the brink of a fountain and had fixed its residence at the foot of a tree.

A Frog, too, passed his time in the water there, and sometimes came to the margin of the pool to take the air. One day, coming to the edge of the water, he continued uttering his voice in a heart-rending cadence and assumed himself to be a nightingale of a thousand melodies.

At that time the Mouse was engaged in chanting in a corner of his cell. Directly he heard the uproarious yelling of the Frog he was astounded, and came out with the intention of taking a look at the reciter; and while occupied with listening to him, kept smiting his hands together and shaking his head. These gestures, which seemed to display approbation, pleased the Frog and he made advances toward acquaintance with him. In short, being mutually pleased with each other, they became inseparable companions, and used to narrate to each other entertaining stories and tales.

One day the Mouse said to the Frog: "I am oftentimes desirous of disclosing to thee a secret and recounting to thee a grief which I have at heart, and at that moment thou art abiding under the water. However much I shout thou nearest me not, owing to the noise of the water, and in spite of my crying to thee, the sound cannot reach thee, because of the clamour of the other frogs. We must devise some means by which thou mayest know when I come to the brink of the water, and thus mayest be informed of my arrival without my shouting to thee."

The Frog said: "Thou speakest the truth. I, too, have often pondered uneasily, thinking, should my friend come to the brink of the water, how shall I, at the bottom of this fountain, learn his arrival? And it sometimes happens that I, too, come to the mouth of thy hole, and thou hast gone out from another side, and I have to wait long. I had intended to have touched somewhat on this subject before, but now the arrangement of it rests with thee."

The Mouse replied: "I have got hold of the thread of a plan, and it appears to me the best thing to get a long string, and to fasten one end to thy foot, and tie the other tight around my own, in order that when I come to the water's edge and shake the string, thou mayest know what I want; and if thou, too, art so kind as to come to the door of my cell, I may also get information by thy jerking the string." Both parties agreed to this, and the knot of friendship was in this manner firmly secured, and they were also kept informed of one another's condition. One day, the Mouse came to the water's edge to seek the Frog, in order to renew their friendly converse. All of a sudden a Crow, like an unforeseen calamity, flew down from the air, and snatching up the Mouse, soared aloft, with him. The string which was tied to the leg of the Mouse drew forth the Frog from the bottom of the water, and, as the other leg was fastened to the Frog's leg, he was suspended head downward in the air. The Crow flew on, holding the Mouse in its beak, and lower still the Frog hanging head downward. People witnessing that extraordinary sight were uttering in the road various jokes and sarcasms: "A strange thing this, that contrary to his wont, a crow has made a prey of a frog!" and "Never before was a frog the prey of a crow!"

The Frog was howling out in reply: "Now, too, a Frog is not the prey of a Crow, but from the bad luck of associating with a Mouse, I have been caught in this calamity, and he who associates with a different species deserves a thousand times as much."

And this story carries with it this beneficial advice: That no one ought to associate with one of a different race, in order that, like the Frog, he may not be suspended on the string of calamity.



The Crow and the Partridge

It is related that one day a Crow was flying and saw a Partridge, which was walking gracefully on the ground with a quick step and graceful gait that enchanted the heart of the looker-on.

The Crow was pleased with the gait of the Partridge, and amazed at its agility. The desire of walking in the same manner fixed itself in his mind, and the insane longing to step proudly, after this fascinating fashion, made its appearance. He forthwith girt his loins in attendance on the Partridge, and abandoning sleep and food, gave himself up to that arduous occupation, and kept continually running in the traces of the Partridge and gazing on its progress.

One day the Partridge said: "O crazy, black-faced one! I observe that thou art ever hovering about me, and art always watching my motions. What is it that thou dost want?"

The Crow replied: "O thou of graceful manners and sweet smiling face, know that having conceived a desire to learn thy gait, I have followed thy steps for a long time past, and wish to acquire thy manner of walking, in order that I may place the foot of preeminence on the head of my fellows."

The Partridge uttered a merry laugh, and said: "Alack! alack! My walking gracefully is a thing implanted in me by nature, and thy style of going is equally a natural characteristic. My going is in one way, and thy mode of procedure is quite another. Leave off this fancy and relinquish this idea."

The Crow replied: "Since I have plunged into this affair, no idle stories shall make me give it up; and until I grasp my wished-for object, I will not turn back from this road."

So the unfortunate Crow for a long time ran after the Partridge, and having failed to learn his method of going, forgot his own too, and could in nowise recover it.



FABLES FROM THE HITOPADESA

"This work entitled Hitopadesa, or Friendly Instructor, affordeth elegance in the Sanskrit idioms, in every part variety of language, and inculcateth the doctrine of prudence and policy."

FABLES FROM THE HITOPADESA

The Traveller and the Tiger

A traveller, through lust of gold, being plunged into an inextricable mire, is killed and devoured by an old tiger.

As I was travelling on the southern road, once upon a time, I saw an old Tiger seated upon the bank of a large river, with a bunch of kusa grass in his paw, calling out to every one who passed: "Ho! ho! traveller, take this golden bracelet," but every one was afraid to approach him to receive it. At length, however, a certain wayfarer, tempted by avarice, regarded it as an instance of good fortune; but, said he, in this there is personal danger, in which we are not warranted to proceed. Yet, said he, there is risk in every undertaking for the acquisition of wealth.

The Traveller then asked where was the bracelet; and the Tiger, having held out his paw, showed it to him and said, "Look at it, it is a golden bracelet." "How shall I place confidence in thee?" said the Traveller; and the Tiger replied: "Formerly, in the days of my youth, I was of a very wicked disposition, and as a punishment for the many men and cattle I had murdered, my numerous children died, and I was also deprived of my wife; so, at present, I am destitute of relations. This being the case, I was advised, by a certain holy person, to practise charity and other religious duties, and I am now grown extremely devout. I perform ablutions regularly, and am charitable. Why, then, am I not worthy of confidence?"

"So far, you see," continued the Tiger, "I have an interest in wishing to give away to some one this golden bracelet from off my own wrist; and as thou appearest to be rather a poor man, I prefer giving it to thee; according to this saying:

"'Make choice of the poor, and bestow not thy gifts on others.' Then go, and having purified thyself in this stream, take the golden bracelet."

The Traveller no sooner began to enter the river to purify himself, than he stuck fast in the mud, and was unable to escape. The Tiger told him he would help him out; and creeping softly toward him, the poor man was seized, and instantly exclaimed to himself: "Alas! the career of my heart is cut short by fate!"

But whilst the unfortunate fellow was thus meditating, he was devoured by the Tiger. Hence also, it is at no time proper to undertake anything without examination.



The Jackal and the Cat

To one whose family and profession are unknown, one should not give residence: the Jackal Jarad-gava was killed through the fault of a Cat.

On the banks of the river Bhageerathee, and upon the mountain Greedhra-koota, there is a large parkattee tree, in the hollow of whose trunk there dwelt a Jackal, by name Jarad-gava, who, by some accident, was grown blind, and for whose support the different birds who roosted upon the branches of the same tree were wont to contribute a trifle from their own stores, by which he existed. It so fell out, that one day a certain Cat, by name Deerga-karna,[1] came there to prey upon the young birds, whom perceiving, the little nestlings were greatly terrified, and began to be very clamorous; and their cries being heard by Jarad-gava, he asked who was coming. The Cat Deerga-karna, too, seeing the Jackal, began to be alarmed, and said to himself: "Oh! I shall certainly be killed, for now that I am in his sight, it will not be in my power to escape. However, let what will be the consequence, I will approach him." So, having thus resolved, he went up to the Jackal, and said: "Master, I salute thee!" "Who art thou?" demanded the Jackal. Said he, "I am a Cat." "Ah! wicked animal," cried the Jackal, "get thee at a distance; for if thou dost not, I will put thee to death."

"Hear me for a moment," replied Puss, "and then determine whether I merit either to be punished or to be killed; for what is any one, simply by birth, to be punished or applauded? When his deeds have been scrutinized, he may, indeed, be either praiseworthy or punishable."

The Jackal after this desired the Cat to give some account of himself, and he complied in the following words: "I am," said he, "in the constant habit of performing ablutions on the side of this river; I never eat flesh, and I lead that mode of life which is called Brahma-Charya[2]. So, as thou art distinguished amongst those of thy own species, noted for skill in religious matters, and as a repository of confidence, and as the birds here are always speaking before me in praise of thy good qualities, I am come to hear from thy mouth, who art so old in wisdom, the duties of religion. Thou, master, art acquainted with the customs of life; but these young birds, who are in ignorance, would fain drive me, who am a stranger, away. The duties of a housekeeper are thus enjoined:

"Hospitality is commanded to be exercised, even toward an enemy, when he cometh to thine house. The tree doth not withdraw its shade, even from the wood-cutter.

"And again:

"Some straw, a room, water, and in the fourth place, gentle words. These things are never to be refused in good men's houses."

To all this the Jackal replied: "Cats have a taste for animal food, and above is the residence of the young birds: it is on this account I speak to thee."

The Cat, having touched his two ears, and then the ground, exclaimed: "I, who have read books upon the duties of religion, and am freed from inordinate desires, have forsaken such an evil practice; and, indeed, even amongst those who dispute with one another about the authority of the Sastras, there are many by whom this sentence: 'Not to kill is a supreme duty,' is altogether approved."

The Cat by these means having satisfied the jackal, he remained in the hollow of the tree with him and passed the time in amusing conversation; and the Jackal told the young birds that they had no occasion to go out of the way.

After this, when many days had passed, it was discovered that the Cat had, by degrees, drawn all the little birds down into the hollow of the tree, and there devoured them; but when he found inquiry was about to be made by those whose young ones had been eaten, he slipped out of the hole and made his escape. In the meantime, the bones of the young ones having been discovered in the hollow of the tree by the parent birds, who had been searching here and there, they concluded that their little ones had been devoured by the Jackal, and so, being joined by other birds, they put him to death.

Wherefore I say, "To one whose family and profession are unknown, one should not give residence."

[1]Long-ear

[2]Forsaking all worldly concerns to lead a godly life.



The Greedy Jackal

A hoard should always be made; but not too great a hoard. A Jackal, through the fault of hoarding too much, was killed by a bow.

A certain Huntsman, by name Bhirava, being fond of flesh, once upon a time went to hunt in the forests of the Vindhya mountains and having killed a Deer, as he was carrying him away, he chanced to see a wild Boar of a formidable appearance. So, laying the Deer upon the ground, he wounded the Boar with an arrow; but, upon his approaching him, the horrid animal set up a roar dreadful as the thunder of the clouds, and wounding the Huntsman in the groin, he fell like a tree cut off by the axe. At the same time, a Serpent, of that species which is called Ajagara, pressed by hunger and wandering about, rose up and bit the Boar, who instantly fell helpless upon him, and remained upon the spot. For:

The body having encountered some efficient cause, water, fire, poison, the sword, hunger, sickness, or a fall from an eminence, is forsaken by the vital spirits.

In the meantime, a Jackal, by name Deergharava, prowling about in search of prey, discovered the Deer, the Huntsman, and the Boar; and having observed them, he said to himself: "Here is a fine feast prepared for me; with their flesh I shall have food to eat. The Man will last me for a whole month, and the Deer and the Boar for two more; then the Serpent will serve me a day; and let me taste the bow-string too. But, in the first place, let me try that which is the least savoury. Suppose, then, I eat this catgut line which is fastened to the bow": saying so, he drew near to eat it; but the instant he had bit the line in two, he was torn asunder by the spring of the bow; and he was reduced to the state of the five elements. I say, therefore, "A hoard should always be made; but not too great a hoard."



The Elephant and the Jackal

That which cannot be effected by force may be achieved by cunning. An Elephant was killed by a Jackal, in going over a swampy place.

In the forest Brahmaranya there was an Elephant, whose name was Karphooratilaka,[1] who having been observed by the jackals, they all determined that if he could by any stratagem be killed, he would be four months' provisions for them all. One of them, who was of exceeding vicious inclination and by nature treacherous, declared that he would engage, by the strength of his own judgment, to effect his death. Some time after, this deceitful wretch went up to the Elephant, and having saluted him, said: "Godlike sir! Condescend to grant me an audience." "Who art thou?" demanded the Elephant, "and whence comest thou?" "My name," replied he, "is Kshudrabuddhi,[2] a jackal, sent into thy presence by all the inhabitants of the forest, assembled for that purpose, to represent that, as it is not expedient to reside in so large a forest as this without a chief, your Highness, endued with all the cardinal virtues, hath been selected to be anointed Rajah of the Woods. Then, that we may not lose the lucky moment," continued the Jackal, "be pleased to follow quickly." Saying this, he cocked his tail and went away.

The Elephant, whose reason was perverted by the lust of power, took the same road as the Jackal, and followed him so exactly that, at length, he stuck fast in a great mire. "O my friend!" cried the Elephant, "what is to be done in this disaster? I am sinking in a deep mire!"

The Jackal laughed, and said: "Please, your divine Highness, take hold of my tail with your trunk, and get out! This is the fruit of those words which thou didst place confidence in."

They say:

As often as thou shalt be deprived of the society of the good, so often shalt thou fall into the company of knaves.

After a few days, the Elephant dying for want of food, his flesh was devoured by the Jackals. I say, therefore: "That which cannot be effected by force, may be achieved by cunning."

[1]Marked with white spots.

[2]Low-minded, mean-spirited, bad-hearted.



The Lion, the Mouse, and the Cat

The master should never be rendered free from apprehension by his servants, for a servant having quieted the fears of his master may experience the fate of Dahdikarna.[1]

Upon the mountain Arbuda-sikhara, there was a Lion, whose name was Maliavikrama[2] the tips of whose mane a Mouse was wont to gnaw, as he slept in his den. The noble beast, having discovered that his hair was bitten, was very much displeased; and as he was unable to catch the offender, who always slipped into his hole, he meditated what was best to be done; and having resolved, said he:

"Whoso hath a trifling enemy, who is not to be overcome by dint of valour, should employ against him a force of his own likeness."

With a review of this saying, the Lion repaired to the village, and by means of a piece of meat thrown into his hole, with some difficulty caught a Cat, whose name was Dadhikarna. He carried him home, and the Mouse for some time being afraid to venture out, the Lion remained with his hair unnipped. At length, however, the Mouse was so oppressed with hunger, that creeping about he was caught and devoured by the Cat. The Lion now, no longer hearing the noise of the Mouse, thought he had no further occasion for the services of the Cat, and so began to be sparing of his allowance; and, in consequence, poor Puss pined away and died for want. Wherefore, I say: "The master should never be rendered free from apprehension by his servants."

[1]Whose ears are the colour of curds.

[2]Great courage.



The Poor Woman and the Bell

It is not proper to be alarmed by a mere sound, when the cause of that sound is unknown. A poor woman obtaineth consequence for discovering the cause of a sound.

Between the mountains Sree-parvata there is a city called Brahma-puree, the inhabitants of which used to believe that a certain giant, whom they called Ghautta-Karna, infested one of the adjacent hills.

The fact was thus: A thief, as he was running away with a Bell he had stolen, was overcome and devoured by a tiger; and the Bell falling from his hand having been picked up by some monkeys, every now and then they used to ring it. Now the people of the town finding that a man had been killed there, and at the same time hearing the Bell, used to declare that the giant Ghautta-Karna being enraged, was devouring a man, and ringing his Bell; so that the city was abandoned by all the principal inhabitants. At length, however, a certain Poor Woman having considered the subject, discovered that the Bell was rung by the monkeys.

She accordingly went to the Rajah, and said:

"If, divine sir, I may expect a very great reward, I will engage to silence this Ghautta-Karna."

The Rajah was exceedingly well pleased, and gave her some money. So having displayed her consequence to the priesthood of the country, to the leaders of the army, and to all the rest of the people, she provided such fruits as she conceived the monkeys were fond of, and went into the wood; where strewing them about, they presently quitted the Bell, and attached themselves to the fruit. The Poor Woman, in the meantime, took away the Bell, and repaired to the city, where she became an object of adoration to its inhabitants. Wherefore, I say: "It is not proper to be alarmed by a mere sound, when the cause of the sound is unknown."



The Lion and the Rabbit

He who bath sense hath strength. Where hath he strength who wanteth judgment? See how a Lion, when intoxicated with anger, was overcome by a Rabbit.

Upon a certain mountain there lived a Lion, whose name was Durganta,[1] who was perpetually sacrificing animals to his gods; so that, at length, all the different species assembled, and, in a body, represented that, as by his present mode of proceeding the forest would be cleared all at once; if it pleased his Highness, they would, each of them in his turn, provide him an animal for his daily food; and the Lion gave, his consent accordingly. So every beast delivered his stipulated provision, till at length, in coming to the Rabbit's turn he began to meditate in this manner: "Policy should be practised by him who would save his life; and I myself shall lose mine, if I do not take care. Suppose I lead him after another Lion? Who knows how that may turn out for me? Then I will approach him slowly, as if fatigued."

The Lion by this time began to be very hungry; so, seeing the Rabbit coming toward him, he called out in a great passion: "What is the reason thou comest so late?" "Please your Highness," said the Rabbit "as I was coming along, I was forcibly detained by another of your species; but having given him my word that I would return immediately I came here to represent it to your Highness." "Go quickly," said the Lion in a rage, "and show me where this vile wretch may be found?"

Accordingly the Rabbit conducted the Lion to the brink of a deep well, where being arrived, "There," said the Rabbit, "look down and behold him"; at the same time he pointed to the reflected image of the Lion in the water; who swelling with pride and resentment, leaped into the well, as he thought, upon his adversary, and thus put an end to his own life. I repeat, therefore: "He who hath sense, hath strength."

[1]Hard to go near.



The Birds and the Monkeys

A wise man is worthy to be advised; but an ignorant one never. Certain birds, having given advice to a troop of monkeys, have their nests torn to pieces, and are obliged to fly away.

On the banks of the river Navmoda, upon a neighbouring mountain, there was a large Salmalee tree wherein certain Birds were wont to build their nests and reside, even during the season of the rains. One day the sky being overcast with a troop of thick dark clouds, there fell a shower of rain in very large streams. The Birds seeing a troop of Monkeys at the foot of the tree, all wet, and shivering with cold, called out to them; "Ho, Monkeys! why don't you invent something to protect you from the rain? We build ourselves nests with straws collected with nothing else but our bills. How is this, that you, who are blessed with hands and feet, yield to such sufferings?"

The Monkeys hearing this, and understanding it as a kind of reproach, were exceedingly irritated and said amongst themselves: "Those Birds there, sitting comfortably out of the wind within their warm nests, are laughing at us! So let them, as long as the shower may last." In short, as soon as the rain subsided, the whole troop of them mounted into the tree, where tearing all the nests to pieces, the eggs fell upon the ground and were broken. I say, therefore: "A wise man is worthy to be advised, but an ignorant one never."



The Rabbits and the Elephants

Great things may be effected by wise counsel, when a sovereign enemy may be too powerful. Certain Rabbits were enabled to live in comfort, through the policy of one of their brethren.

Once upon a time, for want of rain in due season, a troop of Elephants being greatly distressed for water, addressed their chief in these words: "What resource have we, except in that hollow sinking ground inhabited by those little animals! but deprived of that too, whither, sir, shall we go? What shall we do?"

Upon hearing their complaints, their chief, after travelling with them a great way, discovered a fountain of clear water. But, as many Rabbits who happened, to be in their burrows were crushed to death under the feet of so many Elephants trampling over their warren, at length, one of them, reflected in this manner: "This troop of Elephants, oppressed with thirst, will be coming here every day to drink, and, at length, our whole race will be destroyed!" But an old buck said to him, "Brother, don't be uneasy; for I am going to prevent what thou dreadest." Saying which, he set off to try how he could oppose them; but as he went along, he began to consider how he should approach so formidable a troop; "for," observed he, "they say:

"'An elephant killeth even by touching, a serpent even by smelling, a king even by ruling, and a wicked man by laughing at one.'

"Wherefore, I will mount the summit of a rock to address the head of the troop."

This being put in execution accordingly, the chief Elephant asked him who he was, and whence he came. "I am," he replied, "an ambassador sent here by the god Chandra." "Declare the purport of thy commission," said the Elephant. "Sir," replied the Rabbit, "as ambassadors, even when the weapons of war are lifted up, speak not otherwise than for the benefit of their State; and although they speak boldly according as it is their advantage, they are not to be put to death; then I will declare what are the commands of the god Chandra. He bade me say, that in driving away and destroying the Rabbits who are appointed to guard the fountain which is consecrated to that duty, you have done ill; 'for,' said he, 'they are my guards and it is notorious that the figure of a Rabbit is my emblem.'"

The head Elephant, upon hearing this became greatly alarmed, declared that they had offended through ignorance, and would never go to the fountain again.

"If this be your resolution," said the ambassador, "go this once, and make your submission before the diety himself, whom you will see in the fountain, quite agitated with anger; and when you have pacified him, you may depart."

Accordingly, as soon as it was night, the ambassador Vijaya having conducted the chief of the Elephants to the fountain, there showed him the image of the moon, trembling, as it were, upon the smooth surface of the water and when he had made him bow down to it, in token of submission, he said: "Please your divinity! What hath been done having been done through ignorance, I pray thee pardon them!" and upon saying this, he caused the Elephant to depart. I repeat, therefore, "Great things may be effected by wise counsel, when a sovereign enemy may be too powerful."



The Blue Jackal

The fool who forsaketh his own party, and delighteth to dwell with the opposite side may be killed by them; as was the case with the Blue Jackal.

A certain Jackal, as he was roaming about the borders of a town, just as his inclinations led him, fell into a dyer's vat;[1] but being unable to get out in the morning he feigned himself dead. At length, the master of the vat, which was filled with indigo, came, and seeing a Jackal lying with his legs uppermost, his eyes closed, and his teeth bare, concluded that he was dead, and so, taking him out, he carried him a good way from the town, and there left him. The sly animal instantly got up, and ran into the woods; when, observing that his coat was turned blue, he meditated in this manner: "I am now of the finest colour! what great exaltation may I not bring about for myself?" Saying this, he called a number of Jackals together, and addressed them in the following words: "Know that I have lately been sprinkled king of the forests, by the hands of the goddess herself who presides over these woods, with a water drawn from a variety of choice herbs. Observe my colour, and henceforward let every business be transacted according to my orders."

The rest of the Jackals, seeing him of such a fine complexion, prostrated themselves before him, and said: "According as your Highness commands!" By this step he made himself honoured by his own relations, and so gained the supreme power over those of his own species, as well as all the other inhabitants of the forests. But after a while, finding himself surrounded by a levee of the first quality, such as the tiger and the like, he began to look down upon his relations; and, at length, he kept them at a distance. A certain old Jackal perceiving that his brethren were very much cast down at this behaviour, cried: "Do not despair! If it continues thus, this imprudent friend of ours will force us to be revenged. Let me alone to contrive his downfall. The lion, and the rest who pay him court, are taken by his outward appearance; and they obey him as their king, because they are not aware that he is nothing but a Jackal: do something then by which he may be found out. Let this plan be pursued: Assemble all of you in a body about the close of the evening, and set up one general howl in his hearing; and I'll warrant you, the natural disposition of his species will incline him to join in the cry for:

"'Whatever may be the natural propensity of any one is very hard to be overcome. If a dog were made king, would he not gnaw his shoe straps?'

"And thus, the tiger discovering that he is nothing but a Jackal, will presently put him to death."

In short, the plan was executed, and the event was just as it had been foretold. I repeat, therefore: "The fool who forsaketh his own party and delighteth to dwell with the opposite side, may be killed by them."

[1]A dyer's vat, in Hindostan, is a large pan sunk in the ground, often in the little court before the dyer's house.



The Mouse Who Became a Tiger

One of low degree, having obtained a worthy station, seeketh to destroy his master; like the mouse, who having been raised to the state of a Tiger, went to kill the Hermit.

In a certain forest, there once dwelt a Hermit whose name was Maha-tapa. One day seeing a young Mouse fall from the mouth of a crow near his hermitage, out of compassion be took it up and reared it with broken particles of rice. He now observed that the cat was seeking to destroy it; so, by the sacred powers of a saint, he metamorphosed his Mouse into a cat; but his cat being afraid of his dog, he changed her into a dog; and the dog being terrified at the tiger, at length he was transformed into a Tiger. The holy man now regarded the Tiger as no way superior to his Mouse. But the people who came to visit the Hermit, used to tell one another that the Tiger which they saw there had been made so by the power of the saint, from a Mouse; and this being overheard by the Tiger, he was very uneasy, and said to himself: "As long as this Hermit is alive, the disgraceful story of my former state will be brought to my ears"; saying which he went to kill his protector; but as the holy man penetrated his design with his supernatural eye, he reduced him to his former state of a Mouse. I repeat, therefore: "One of low degree, having obtained a worthy station, may seek to destroy his master."



The Brahmin and the Goat

He who, judging by what passeth in his own breast, believeth a knave to be a person of veracity, is deceived; as the Brahmin was concerning his Goat.

In a certain forest, a Brahmin, having determined to make an offering, went to a neighbouring village and purchased a Goat, which having thrown across his shoulder, he turned toward home. As he was travelling along, he was perceived by three thieves. "If," said they, "we could by some artifice get the Goat from that man, it would be a great proof of our address."

Saying this, they agreed upon their stratagem, and executed it in this manner: They stationed themselves before the Brahmin, and sat down under the trees in the road which led to his habitation, till he should come up to them. Soon after, he was accosted by one of them in this manner: "Is not that a dog? Brahmin, what is the reason thou carriest it upon thy shoulder?" The Brahmin replied: "No, it is not a dog; it is a Goat, which I have purchased to make an offering of." About a mile farther on he met another of them, who repeating the same question, he took the Goat from his shoulder, and putting it upon the ground, examined it again and again; and at length, replacing it upon his shoulder, he went on, quite staggered as it were, for:

The minds even of good men are staggered by the arguments of the wicked; but those who place confidence in them may suffer by it.

At length the Brahmin, having heard the third thief, like the former two, insist upon it that he had a dog upon his shoulder, was convinced that it was indeed a dog; and so, leaving his Goat behind him, which the thieves presently took away and made a feast of, the good man washed himself and went home. Whence, I say, "He who, judging by what passeth in his own breast, believeth a knave to be a person of veracity, is deceived."



FABLES FROM INDIA

"These simple children's stories have lived on, and maintained their place of honour and their undisputed sway in every schoolroom of the East and every nursery of the West."

F. MAX MULLER

FABLES FROM INDIA

The Lion, the Fox, and the Story-teller

A Lion who was the king of a great forest once said to his subjects: "I want some one among you to tell me stories one after another without ceasing. If you fail to find somebody who can so amuse me, you will all be put to death."

In the East there is a proverb which says; "The king kills when he will," so the animals were in great alarm.

The Fox said: "Fear not; I shall save you all. Tell the king the Story-teller is ready to come to court when ordered." So the animals had orders to send the Story-teller at once to the presence. The Fox bowed respectfully, and stood before the king, who said: "So you are to tell us stories without ceasing?"

"Yes, your Majesty," said the Fox.

"Then begin," said the Lion.

"But before I do so," said the Fox, "I would like to know what your Majesty means by a story."

"Why," said the Lion, "a narrative containing some interesting event or fact."

"Just so," said the Fox, and began: "There was once a fisherman who went to sea with a huge net, and spread it far and wide. A great many fish got into it. Just as the fisherman was about to draw the net the coils snapped. A great opening was made. First one fish escaped." Then the Fox stopped.

"What then?" said the Lion.

"Then two escaped," said the Fox.

"What then?" asked the impatient Lion.

"Then three escaped," said the Fox. Thus, as often as the Lion repeated his query, the Fox increased the number by one, and said as many escaped. The Lion was vexed, and said: "Why you are telling me nothing new!"

"I wish that your majesty may not forget your royal word," said the Fox. "Each event occurred by itself, and each lot that escaped was different from the rest."

"But wherein is the wonder?" said the Lion.

"Why, your majesty, what can be more wonderful than for Fish to escape in lots, each exceeding the other by one?"

"I am bound by my word," said the Lion, "else I would see your carcass stretched on the ground."

The Fox replied in a whisper: "If tyrants that desire things impossible are not at least bound by their own word, their subjects can find nothing to bind them."



The Fox in the Well

A Fox fell into a well, and was holding hard to some roots at the side of it, just above the water. A Wolf who was passing by saw him, and said, "Hollo, Reynard; after all you have fallen into a well!"

"But not without a purpose, and not without the means of getting out of it," said the Fox.

"What do you mean?" said the Wolf.

"Why," said the Fox, "there is a drought all over the country now, and the water in this well is the only means of appeasing the thirst of the thousands that live in this neighbourhood. They held a meeting, and requested me to keep the water from going down lower; so I am holding it up for the public good."

"What will be your reward?" asked the Wolf.

"They will give me a pension, and save me the trouble of going about every day in quest of food, not to speak of innumerable other privileges that will be granted me. Further, I am not to stay here all day. I have asked a kinsman of mine, to whom I have communicated the secret of holding up the water, to relieve me from time to time. Of course he will also get a pension, and have other privileges. I expect him here shortly."

"Ah, Reynard, may I relieve you, then? May I hope to get a pension, and other privileges? You know what a sad lot is mine, especially in winter."

"Certainly," said the Fox, "but you must get a long rope, that I may come up and let you down."

So the Wolf got a rope. Up came the Fox, and down went the Wolf; when the former observed, with a laugh, "My dear sir, you may remain there till doomsday, or till the owner of the well throws up your carcass," and left the place.

"Alas!" said the Wolf, when it was too late, "greed hath its meed!"



The Fawn and the Little Tiger

A Fawn met a little Tiger, and said: "What fine stripes you have!"

The little Tiger said: "What fine spots you have!"

Then the Fawn said: "It would be such a nice thing if you and I were to live together as friends. We might then roam through the woods as we like, and be so happy!"

"I think so too," said the Tiger.

The two joined hands, and went out for a long walk. It was breakfast time. The Fawn saw some fine grass in the lawn, and said to himself: "One should first see his friend fed and then feed." So he turned to the Tiger and said, "Will you have some of this fine grass for your breakfast?"

The Tiger put his nose to the grass but could not bring himself to feed upon it, because it was against his nature; so he replied, "I am so sorry, I cannot eat it!"

Then the Fawn said: "Allow me to go home for one moment and ask mamma for something that would suit you for breakfast."

So the Fawn went home and told the Hind of the happy friendship he had formed, and of all that had happened since.

The Hind replied, "Child, how lucky it is that you have come away! You must know the Tiger is the most deadly enemy we have in the woods."

At these words the Fawn drew near to his dam and trembled.

The Hind said: "It is indeed lucky to get away from the wicked at the first hint!"



The Fox and the Villagers

A Fox that had long been the dread of the village poultry yard was one day found lying breathless in a field. The report went abroad that, after all, he had been caught and killed by some one. In a moment, everybody in the village came out to see the dead Fox. The village Cock, with all his hens and chicks, was also there, to enjoy the sight.

The Fox then got up, and, shaking off his drowsiness, said: "I ate a number of hens and chicks last night; hence I must have slumbered longer than usual."

The Cock counted his hens and chicks, and found a number wanting. "Alas!" said he, "how is it I did not know of it?"

"My dear sir," said the Fox, as he retreated to the wood, "it was last night I had a good meal on your hens and chicks, yet you did not know of it. A moment ago they found me lying in the field, and you knew of it at once. Ill news travels fast!"



Tinsel and Lightning

A piece of Tinsel on a rock once said to a Pebble: "You see how bright I am! I am by birth related to the lightning."

"Indeed!" said the Pebble; "then accept my humble respects."

Some time after, a flash of lightning struck the rock, and the Tinsel lost all its brilliancy by the scorching effects of the flash.

"Where is your brilliancy now?" said the Pebble.

"Oh, it is gone to the skies," said the Tinsel, "for I have lent it to the lightning that came down a moment ago to borrow it of me."

"Dear me!" said the Pebble; "how many fibs doth good bragging need!"



The Glow-worm and the Daw

A Jackdaw once ran up to a Glow-worm and was about to seize him. "Wait a moment, good friend," said the Worm; "and you shall hear of something to your advantage."

"Ah! what is it?" said the Daw.

"I am but one of the many Glow-worms that live in this forest. If you wish to have them all, follow me," said the Glow-worm.

"Certainly!" said the Daw.

Then the Glow-worm led him to a place in the wood where a fire had been kindled by some woodmen, and pointing to the sparks flying about, said: "There you find the Glow-worms warming themselves around a fire. When you have done with them, I will show you some more, at a distance from this place."

The Daw darted at the sparks, and tried to swallow some of them; but his mouth being burnt by the attempt, he ran away exclaiming, "Ah, the Glow-worm is a dangerous little creature!"

Said the Glow-worm with pride: "Wickedness yields to wisdom!"



The Lion and the Gadfly

Once a Lion was sleeping in his den at the foot of a great mountain when a Gadfly that had been sipping the blood from his mouth bit him severely. The Lion started up with a roar, and catching the Fly in his huge paws, cried: "Villain, you are at my mercy! How shall I punish your impudence?"

"Sire," said the Fly, "if you would pardon me now, and let me live, I shall be able to show ere long how grateful I am to you."

"Indeed!" said the Lion; "who ever heard of a Gadfly helping a Lion? But still I admire your presence of mind and grant your life."

Some time after, the Lion, having made great havoc on the cattle of a neighbouring village, was snoring away in his den after a heavy meal. The village hunters approached with the object of surrounding him and putting an end to his depredations.

The Fly saw them, and hurrying into the den, bit the Lion. He started up with a roar as before, and cried: "Villain, you will get no pardon this time!"

"Sire," said the Fly, "the village hunters are on their way to your den; you can't tarry a moment here without being surrounded and killed."

"Saviour of my life!" cried the lion as he ran up the mountain. "There is nothing like forgiving, for it enables the humblest to help the highest."



The Sunling

In the good old days a Clown in the East, on a visit to a city kinsman, while at dinner pointed to a burning candle and asked what it was. The city man said, in jest, it was a Sunling, or one of the children of the sun.

The Clown thought that it was something rare; so he waited for an opportunity, and hid it in a chest of drawers close by. Soon the chest caught fire, then the curtains by its side, then the room, then the whole house.

After the flames had been put down, the city man and the Clown went into the burnt building to see what remained. The Clown turned over the embers of the chest of drawers. The city man asked what he was seeking for. The Clown said: "It is in this chest that I hid the bright Sunling; I wish to know if he has survived the flames."

"Alas," said the city man, who now found out the cause of all the mischief, "Never jest with fools!"



The Despot and the Wag

A Despot in the East wished to have a great name as a very munificent prince, so he gave large presents to every one of note that came to his court, but at the same time his officers had secret orders to waylay the recipients of his gifts and recover them.

In this manner many a man had been rewarded and plundered. Once a wag came to court, and amused every one by his drolleries. The King gave him a great many presents, including a horse. After taking leave of the King and his courtiers, the Wag bundled up the presents and put them over his shoulders, and mounting the horse, facing the tail, was going out. The King asked him why he acted in that manner.

"Sire," said the Wag, "simply to see if your officers were coming behind, that I may at once hand over the bundle to them and go about my business."

The Despot was abashed, and stopped giving any more presents, saying: "Giving is but giving in vain, when we give to take again."



The Crane and the Fool

In the East there lived a Fool, who went one day to his fields and said: "I sowed a month ago; should the crops stand two months more, I shall get three hundred bushels of corn. But I am in a hurry, so if I should reap now, I dare say I shall have one hundred bushels at least."

A Crane who heard his words said: "If I were you, I should have all the three hundred bushels this very day."

"How?" said the Fool.

"Why," said the Crane, "you stored up water in the tank to feed the crops for three months. A month has elapsed, so water enough for two months more remains in the tank. Should you open the sluices and let all the water flow into the fields, you will have all the corn at once."

"Are you sure I shall have all the corn at once?" said the Fool.

"Oh, yes," said the Crane, "there is not the slightest doubt. My geographical knowledge is extensive, for I have travelled over a great part of the world; so you may depend on my wide knowledge and experience."

The Fool then let all the water flow into the fields. The Crane invited his kindred, and they together ate all the big fish left in the tank first, and then, hovering over the fields, picked up all the small fish that had gone out with the water. A great portion of the crops was swept away; what remained was soon buried in the mud.

The Fool sat on the bank of the lake and wept, saying: "The Crane's geography ruined me."

"My friend," said the Crane, "my geography was as good as your arithmetic. It is all the same whether you fall into the ditch from this side or that!"



The Lion and the Goat

A Lion was eating up one after another the animals of a certain country. One day an old Goat said: "We must put a stop to this. I have a plan by which he may be sent away from this part of the country."

"Pray act up to it at once," said the other animals.

The old Goat laid himself down in a cave on the roadside, with his flowing beard and long curved horns. The Lion on his way to the village saw him, and stopped at the mouth of the cave.

"So you have come, after all," said the Goat.

"What do you mean?" asked the Lion.

"Why, I have long been lying in this cave. I have eaten up one hundred elephants, a hundred tigers, a thousand wolves, and ninety-nine lions. One more lion has been wanting. I have waited long and patiently. Heaven has, after all, been kind to me," said the Goat, and shook his horns and his beard, and made a start as if he were about to spring upon the Lion.

The latter said to himself: "This animal looks like a Goat, but it does not talk like one, so it is very likely some wicked spirit in this shape. Prudence often serves us better than valour, so for the present I shall return to the wood," and he turned back.

The Goat rose up and, advancing to the mouth of the cave, said, "Will you come back to-morrow?"

"Never again," said the Lion.

"Do you think I shall be able to see you, at least, in the wood to-morrow?"

"Neither in the wood, nor in this neighbourhood any more," said the Lion, and running to the forest, soon left it with his kindred.

The animals in the country, not hearing him roar any more, gathered around the Goat, and said: "The wisdom of one doth save a host."



The Man and His Piece of Cloth

A Man in the East, where they do not require as much clothing as in colder climates, gave up all worldly concerns and retired to a wood, where he built a hut and lived in it.

His only clothing was a Piece of Cloth which he wore round his waist. But, as ill-luck would have it, rats were plentiful in the wood, so he had to keep a cat. The cat required milk to feed it, so a cow had to be kept. The cow required tending, so a cowboy was employed. The boy required a house to live in, so a house was built for him. To look after the house, a maid had to be engaged. To provide company for the maid, a few more houses had to be built, and people invited to live in them. In this manner a little township sprang up.

The man said: "The farther we seek to go from the world and its cares, the more they multiply!"



The Tiger, the Fox, and the Hunters

A Fox was once caught in a trap. A hungry Tiger saw him and said, "So you are here!"

"Only on your account," said the Fox, in a whisper.

"How so?" said the Tiger.

"Why, you were complaining you could not get men to eat, so I got into this net to-day, that you may have the men when they come to take me," said the Fox, and gave a hint that if the Tiger would wait a while in a thicket close by, he would point out the men to him.

"May I depend upon your word?" said the Tiger.

"Certainly," said the Fox.

The hunters came, and, seeing the Fox in the net, said: "So you are here!"

"Only on your account," said the Fox, in a whisper.

"How so?" said the men.

"Why, you were complaining you could not get at the Tiger that has been devouring your cattle. I got into this net to-day that you may have him. As I expected, he came to eat me up, and is in yonder thicket," said the Fox, and gave a hint that if they would take him out of the trap he would point out the Tiger. "May we depend upon your word?" said the men.

"Certainly," said the Fox, while the men went with him in a circle to see that he did not escape.

Then the Fox said to the Tiger and the men: "Sir Tiger, here are the men; gentlemen, here is the Tiger."

The men left the Fox and turned to the Tiger. The former beat a hasty retreat to the wood, saying, "I have kept my promise to both; now you may settle it between yourselves."

The Tiger exclaimed, when it was too late: "Alas! what art for a double part?"



The Hare and the Pig

A Hare and a Pig once agreed to leap over a ditch. The Hare went a great way, and fell into it, just short by an inch. The Pig went some way and fell into it; but far behind the Hare. Yet they were eager to know which of them leapt more, and was therefore the better animal.

So they said to a Fox, who had been watching the race: "Will you tell us which of us is superior, and which inferior, in the race?"

The Fox said: "Both in the ditch: can't say which!"



The Peacock and the Fox

A Fox, who had an eye on a Peacock, was one day standing in a field with his face turned up to the sky.

"Reynard," said the Peacock, "what have you been doing?"

"Oh, I have been counting the stars," said the Fox.

"How many are they?" said the Peacock.

"About as many as the fools on earth," said the Fox.

"But which do you think is the greater, the number of the stars or of the fools?" asked the Peacock.

"If you put it so, I should say the fools are more by one," said the Fox.

"Who is that one?" said the Peacock.

"Why, my own silly self!" said the Fox.

"How are you silly, Reynard?" questioned the Peacock.

"Why, was it not foolish of me to count the stars in the sky, when I could have counted the stars in your brilliant plumage to better advantage?" said the Fox.

"No, Reynard," said the Peacock, "therein is not your folly—although there is neither wit nor wisdom in your prattle—but in the thought that your fine words would make an easy prey of me!"

The Fox quietly left the place, saying: "The Knave that hath been found out cannot have legs too quick."



The Tiger and the Giraffe

A Tiger, named Old Guile, who had grown weak with age, was lying under a tree by the side of a lake in quest of some animal off which he could make a meal.

A Giraffe, named Tall Stripes, who came to the lake to quench his thirst, attracted his attention, and Old Guile addressed him as follows: "Oh, what a happy day! I see there the son of my old friend Yellow Haunch, who lived in the great forest near that distant mountain."

Tall Stripes was astonished to hear the words of Old Guile, and asked him how he, a Tiger, could be the friend of his father, a Giraffe.

"I am not surprised at your question," replied Old Guile; "it is a truth known to very few indeed that the Tiger and the Giraffe belong to the same family. Just look at your skin and my own: yours is of a pale yellow colour, mine is very nearly the same; you have stripes, I have them, too. What more proofs do you want?"

Tall Stripes, who was extremely simple and guileless, believed these words, and said: "I am very happy to know that my father was your friend, and that we are of the same family. Can I do anything for you?"

Old Guile replied, "No, thank you; old as I am, I make it a point of relying on myself. Further, a great part of my time is spent in prayer and meditation; for I consider it necessary, at this age, to devote all my attention to spiritual things. It will, however, be a great gratification to me to have your company whenever you should chance to pass by this lake."

Tall Stripes acceded to this request, and was about to go on his Way, when Old Guile observed; "My dear Tall Stripes, you are well aware of the instability of all earthly things. I am old and infirm, and who knows what may happen to me to-morrow. Perhaps I may not see you again; so let me do myself the pleasure of embracing you before you leave me for the present."

"Certainly," said Tall Stripes. Thereupon Old Guile rose up slowly from his seat, like one devoid of all energy, and embracing him, plunged his deadly teeth into his long neck, and stretching him on the ground made a hearty breakfast on him.

Beware of the crafty professions of the wicked.



The Man of Luck and the Man of Pluck

A King in the East said to his Minister; "Do you believe in luck?"

"I do," said the Minister.

"Can you prove it?" said the King.

"Yes, I can," said the Minister.

So one night he tied up to the ceiling of a room a parcel containing peas mixed with diamonds, and let in two men, one of whom believed in luck and the other in human effort alone. The former quietly laid himself down on the ground; the latter after a series of efforts reached the parcel, and feeling in the dark the peas and the stones, ate the former, one by one, and threw down the latter at his companion, saying, "Here are the stones for your idleness." The man below received them in his blanket.

In the morning the king and the minister came to the room and bade each take to himself what he had got. The Man of Effort found he had nothing beyond the peas he had eaten. The Man of Luck quietly walked away with the diamonds.

The Minister said to the King: "Sire, there is such a thing as luck; but it is as rare as peas mixed with diamonds. So I would say: 'Let none hope to live by luck.'"



The Fox and the Crabs

One day a Fox seated himself on a stone by a stream and wept aloud. The Crabs in the holes around came up to him and said: "Friend, why are you wailing so loud?"

"Alas!" said the Fox, "I have been turned by my kindred out of the wood, and do not know what to do."

"Why were you turned out?" asked the Crabs in a tone of pity.

"Because," said the Fox, sobbing, "they said they should go out to-night hunting Crabs by the stream, and I said it would be a pity to lull such pretty little creatures."

"Where will you go hereafter?" said the Crabs.

"Where I can get work," said the Fox; "for I would not go to my kindred again, come what would."

Then the Crabs held a meeting, and came to the conclusion that, as the Fox had been thrown out by his kindred on their account, they could do nothing better than engage his services to defend them. So they told the Fox of their intention. He readily consented, and spent the whole day in amusing the Crabs with all kinds of tricks.

Night came. The moon rose in full splendour. The Fox said: "Have you ever been out for a walk in the moonlight?"

"Never, friend," said the Crabs; "we are such little creatures that we are afraid of going far from our holes."

"Oh, never mind!" said the Fox; "follow me! I can defend you against any foe."

So the Crabs followed him with pleasure. On the way the Fox told them all sorts of delightful things, and cheered them on most heartily. Having thus gone some distance, they reached a plain, where the Fox came to a stand, and made a low moan in the direction of an adjacent wood. Instantly a number of foxes came out of the wood and joined their kinsman, and all of them at once set about hunting the poor Crabs, who fled in all directions for their lives, but were soon caught and devoured.

When the banquet was over, the Foxes said to their friend: "How great thy skill and cunning!"

The heartless villain replied, with a wink: "My friends, There is cunning in cunning."



The Camel and the Pig

A Camel said: "Nothing like being tall! Look how tall I am!"

A Pig, who heard these words, said: "Nothing like being short! Look how short I am!"

The Camel said: "Well, if I fail to prove the truth of what I said, I shall give up my hump."

The Pig said: "If I fail to prove the truth of what I have said, I shall give up my snout."

"Agreed!" said the Camel.

"Just so!" said the Pig.

They came to a garden, enclosed by a low wall without any opening. The Camel stood on this side the wall, and reaching the plants within by means of his long neck made a breakfast on them. Then he turned jeeringly to the Pig, who had been standing at the bottom of the wall without even a look at the good things in the garden, and said: "Now, would you be tall, or short?"

Next they came to a garden, enclosed by a high wall, with a wicket gate at one end. The Pig entered by the gate and, after having eaten his fill of the vegetables within, came out, laughing at the poor Camel, who had had to stay outside, because he was too tall to enter the garden by the gate, and said: "Now, would you be tall, or short?"

Then they thought the matter over, and came to the conclusion that the Camel should keep his hump and the Pig his snout, observing: "Tall is good, where tall would do; if short, again, 'tis also true!"



MALAYAN FABLES

"He who is not possessed of such a book as will dispel many doubts, point out hidden treasures, and is, as it were, a mirror of all things, is even an ignorant man."

MALAYAN FABLES

Father "Lime-stick" and the Flower-pecker

Old Father Lime-stick once limed a tree for birds and caught a Flower-pecker. He was just about to kill and eat it when the bird cried out, "O Grandfather, surely you are not going to eat me? Why, flesh, feathers and all, I am no bigger than your thumb!" "What!" said the old man; "do you expect me then to let you go?" "Yes," said the bird, "only let me go, and I will fetch you such a talisman as never was—a Bezoar-stone as big as a cocoanut and worth at least a thousand." Said the old man, "Do you really mean it?" "Really, I do," replied the bird. "Just let me go, and I'll bring it to you." Then, on being released, he flew off and perched on a tree, and began to preen his feathers, to get rid of the bird-lime.

Presently the old man said: "Where has that bird got to? Bird, where is the Bezoar-stone you promised to bring me, the one that was worth at least a thousand?" "Out-on-you," was the reply, "this is really too ridiculous. Just think of me, with my body as big as your thumb, carrying a Bezoar-stone as big as a cocoanut! It really is too absurd. Why, have I even got the strength to lift it?" At this the old man held his peace. "Well," continued the bird, "you will gain nothing by repenting that you set me free. Only remember in future not to undertake an affair quite out of keeping with your own powers. Neither try to get your arms round a tree too big for your embrace, nor attempt to climb one higher than your strength permits you."



The Mouse-deer's Shipwreck

"Come," said the Mouse-deer to the Stump-tailed Heron, "come and sail with me to Java." So they set sail, and Friend Mouse-deer held the tiller and Friend Heron spread the sail, and the wind blew from the north. Soon however Friend Mouse-deer got drowsy, and let the boat fall out of the wind.

At this Friend Heron said: "Why does the boat fall off? How is your helm, Friend Mouse-deer?" "I was only taking a few winks," said he. "Bring her up to the wind again," said the Heron. And the Mouse-deer replied: "All right, I'm 'on the spot.'" Presently, however, he dozed again and the Heron exclaimed: "Oh, if that's to be it, you may die and be done with. I'll peck a hole in this boat of ours and you'll go to the bottom."

But the Mouse-deer said: "Please don't, I'm such a bad hand at swimming." So they sailed on. And the Mouse-deer dozed a third time. At this the Heron could contain himself no longer, and said, "Confound you, Friend Mouse-deer, for sleeping at the helm." And losing his temper he pecked a hole in the boat, and the boat let in the water and Friend Heron flew away. But the Mouse-deer swam struggling with his feet in the midst of the sea.

Presently there came up a young Shark who exclaimed, "I'll have a meal off you this time at all events." But the Mouse-deer answered, "What, Friend Shark, you'll make a meal off me? Why, in place of the little flesh I've got, if you'll carry me ashore, I'll teach you some excellent Magic which will save you from ever having to hunt for your food again." To this the Shark replied, "Agreed. If you'll teach me 'your excellent Magic' I'll carry you ashore." So the Mouse-deer got upon Friend Shark's back, and was carried straight ashore.

And on their arrival the Mouse-deer said: "Wait here a bit, while I go and get the simples." And going a-land he hunted up a rattan creeper and took it back with him and said: "Now I'll give you the simples I spoke of," and bound it fast to Friend Shark's tail. And presently the Shark said: "Why have you made the line fast to my tail?" But the Mouse-deer replied: "'Keep quite quiet till I have tied you up properly, and then I'll give you the simples." But presently he dragged the Shark up on to the dry beach, and made butcher's meat of him. Just then, however, a Tiger came up, exclaiming, "Here's really a good meal for Me, for once in a way!" To this, however, the Mouse-deer replied: "What is the use of eating me, when there's already plenty of butcher's meat and to spare?" "Very well, I'll share it with you," said the Tiger. The Mouse-deer replied, "You may share it with me by all means, if you will only go and get some water to do the cooking." So the Tiger went off to get water and presently came back with it.

"Wash the meat before you roast it," said the Mouse-deer. The Tiger took the meat and washed it in the water. "Go and fetch fire and roast it," said the Mouse-deer. The Tiger fetched fire and came back to do the cooking. And when the meat was done, "Now go and fetch some drinking water," said the Mouse-deer, "and we'll have our meal together." So the Tiger went off again to fetch the drinking water. But the Mouse-deer in the meantime made off with the Shark's meat and climbed up with it to the top of a She-oak Tree. And presently the Tiger came back and found both Mouse-deer and meat missing. At this he exclaimed: "For once in a way, Mr. Mouse-deer, you've fairly cheated Me; if we don't meet again no matter, but if we do, I'll be the death of you." And here the story ends.



The Tiger Gets His Deserts

A Tiger which had been caught in a trap, seeing a man, begged to be released. The man said to the Tiger: "If I let you out of the trap will you promise not to attack me?" "Certainly," said the Tiger, and the man therefore let the Tiger go; but the moment the Tiger was loose it sprang upon the man and caught him. At this the man begged the Tiger to wait until he had inquired how the law stood with reference to their contract, and the Tiger agreed to do so. The man and the Tiger therefore set out together; and on coming to a Road the man said: "O Road, Road, is it lawful to requite evil for good, or good for good only?" The Road replied: "I do good to mankind, but they requite me with evil, defiling my surface as they go." Then they came to a Tree, of which the man asked the same question. The Tree replied: "I do good to mankind, but they requite me with evil, lopping off my branches and cutting me down." At last they came to the Mouse-deer and the man made the same inquiry as before. The Mouse-deer replied: "I must really go into the question thoroughly before I answer it; let us go back together to the trap." On reaching the trap, he requested the Tiger to "Step inside," and the Tiger entering the trap, the Mouse-deer let down the door of the trap, and exclaimed, "Accursed Brute, you have returned evil for good and now you shall die for it." He then called in the neighbours and had the Tiger killed.



The Tune That Makes the Tiger Drowsy

There is a tune which when played upon the "Kerotong" (a two-stringed bamboo harp) makes Rimau the Tiger drowsy, but only a few old people know it. One evening two men were sitting together and playing in a hut in the jungle when two tigers overheard them.

The Tigers took counsel together, and one of them said to the other, "You shall be the first to go into the house. Whatever you seize shall therefore be your portion, but Whatever plunges down the steps to escape shall be mine."

At this the second Tiger ascended the house-ladder and was just crouching upon the topmost rung when one of the men to amuse himself commenced to play the Tune that makes the Tiger drowsy. As soon as the Tiger heard it he began to grow sleepy, and presently fell plump down the steps to the ground, where he was seized by his companion. When he objected his companion exclaimed, "Did we not agree that Whatever plunged down the steps was to be my portion?" and, so saying, he proceeded to devour him at his leisure.



The Tiger and the Shadow

There was a "salt-lick" in the jungle to which all the beasts of the forest resorted, but they were greatly afraid by reason of an old Tiger which killed one of them every day. At length, therefore, P'lando' the Mouse-deer said to the Tiger, "Why not permit me to bring you a beast every day, to save you from hunting for your food?" The Tiger consented and P'lando' went off to make arrangement with the beasts. But he could not persuade any of them to go, and after three days he set off, taking nobody with him but Kuwis the smallest of the Flying Squirrels.

On their arrival P'lando' said to the Tiger: "I could not bring you any of the other beasts because the way was blocked by a fat old Tiger with a Flying Squirrel sitting astride its muzzle." On hearing this the Tiger exclaimed, "Let us go and find it and drive it away." The three therefore set out, the Flying Squirrel perched upon the Tiger's muzzle and the Mouse-deer sitting astride upon its hind quarters. On reaching the river, the Mouse-deer pointed to the Tiger's likeness in the water and exclaimed, "Look there! That is the fat old Tiger that I saw." On hearing this, the Tiger sprang into the river to attack his own shadow, and was drowned immediately.



The King-crow and the Water-snail

A Water-snail was coming up-stream from the lower reaches, when a King-crow heard it. Said the King-crow to himself: "Who can it be coming up-stream that exclaims so loudly at the rapids? One might say it was a man, but that there is nothing to be seen." So the King-crow settled on a tree to watch, but as he could see nothing from his perch on the tree he flew down to the ground, and walked along by the water-side. And when he thought to see some man exclaiming, he caught sight of the Water-snail.

"Hullo, you there," said he, "where do you come from?" "I come from the eddy below the rapids," said the Water-snail, "and I only want to get as far as the head-waters of this river." Said the King-crow: "Wait a bit. Suppose you go down to the river-mouth as quickly as you can and we will have a wager on it." (Now rivers are the Water-snail's domain, in which he has many comrades.)

"What is to be the stake?" asked the Water-snail. "If I am beaten I will be your slave, and look after your aroids and wild caladiums on which all Water-snails feed." Then the King-crow asked: "And what will you stake?" The Water-snail replied, "If I am beaten, the river shall be handed over to you and you shall be King of the River." But the Water-snail begged for a delay of twice seven days, saying that he felt knocked up after ascending the rapids, and the delay was granted accordingly.

Meanwhile, however, the Water-snail hunted up a great number of his friends and instructed them to conceal themselves in each of the higher reaches of the river, and to reply immediately when the King-crow challenged them.

The day arrived, and the King-crow flew off, and in each of the higher reaches the Water-snail's friends replied to the challenge, while at the river-mouth the Water-snail replied in person. So the King-crow was defeated and has ever since remained the slave of the Water-snail.



The Elephant Has a Bet with the Tiger

In the beginning Gajah the Elephant and Rimau the Tiger were sworn friends. But one day they came to a clearing and presently encountered Lotong, the long-tailed Spectacle-monkey. And when he saw the Monkey, the Elephant said, "Mr. Lotong yonder is far too noisy; let us try and shake him off; if he falls to me I am to eat you; and if he falls to you, you are to eat me—we will make a wager of it." The Tiger said, "Agreed"; and the Elephant replied, "Agreed." "Very well!" said the Tiger; "you shall try and menace him first." So the Elephant tried to menace the Monkey. "AU! AU! AU!" he trumpeted, and each time he trumpeted the Monkey was scared. But the Monkey went jumping head foremost through the branches and never fell to the ground at all.

Presently, therefore, the Tiger asked the Elephant, "Well, Friend Elephant, would you like to try your luck again?" But the Elephant said, "No, thank you. It shall be your turn now; and if he falls to you, you shall eat me—if you really can make him fall!" Then the Tiger went and roared his longest and loudest, and shortened his body as for a spring and growled and menaced the Monkey thrice. And the Monkey leaped and fell at the Tiger's feet, for his feet and hands were paralyzed and would not grip the branches any more. Then the Tiger said: "Well, Friend Elephant, I suppose I may eat you now." But the Elephant said: "You have, I admit, won the wager; but I beg you to grant me just seven days' respite, to enable me to visit my wife and children and to make my will." The Tiger granted the request, and the Elephant went home, bellowing and sobbing every foot of the way.

Now the Elephant's wife heard the sound of her husband's voice, and said to her children, "What can be the matter with your Father that he keeps sobbing so?" And the children listened to make sure, and said, "Yes, it really is Father's voice, the sobbing, and not that of anybody else." Presently Father Elephant arrived, and Mother Elephant asked: "What were you sobbing for, Father? What have you done to yourself?" Father Elephant replied: "I made a wager with Friend Tiger about shaking down a Monkey, and Friend Tiger beat me; I menaced the Monkey, but he did not fall; if he had fallen to me, I was to have eaten Friend Tiger, but if he fell to Friend Tiger, Friend Tiger was to eat me. I was beaten, and now Friend Tiger says he is going to eat me. So I begged leave to come home and see you, and he has given me just seven days' respite."

Now for the seven days Father Elephant kept sobbing aloud, and neither ate nor slept. And the thing came to the hearing of Friend Mouse-deer. "What can be the matter with Friend Elephant that he keeps bellowing and bellowing; neither does he sleep, so that night is turned into day, and day into night? What on earth is the matter with him? Suppose I go and see," said the Mouse-deer. Then the Mouse-deer went to see what was wrong, and asked: "What is the matter with you, Friend Elephant, that we hear you bellowing and bellowing every single day and every single night, just now, too, when the Rains are upon us? You are far too noisy."