THE ALLIGATOR AND THE JACKAL

Once upon a time, a hungry little Jackal went down to the river-side to catch crabs for his dinner. Now, it chanced that in this river there lived an ugly old Alligator, who, being very hungry himself, would have been glad to catch and eat the Jackal. The Jackal ran up and down the bank, hunting for crabs.

He was so hungry that he did not look about cautiously. Had he done so, he might have seen that ugly old Alligator, lying half hidden under some tall bulrushes. So, when the hungry Jackal saw a crab sidling along, he poked his paw down into the water.

Snap! the old Alligator caught the paw of the Jackal.

“Oh, dear, oh, dear!” cried the little Jackal to himself. “What shall I do now? This ugly old Alligator has caught my paw, and soon he will drag me down under the water and eat me.”

But the Jackal sang out in a cheerful voice, “Clever Mr. Alligator! Clever Mr. Alligator! I hope you will find that hard old bulrush root tender and you will enjoy chewing on it for dinner.”

The Alligator was so buried in the mud under the bulrushes that he could hardly see. He thought that he had made a mistake and he said to himself, “Dear me, how very tiresome! I thought I had caught the Jackal’s paw when I had only seized a bulrush root. And there is that saucy little Jackal up on the bank mocking me.” So the Alligator opened his jaws and let the Jackal go.

“Oh, wise Mr. Alligator! Wise Mr. Alligator! Thank you for letting me go!” laughed the Jackal. “So you really believed my paw was a root? Thank you, Mr. Alligator!”

Now, when the Alligator found that he was tricked in this way, he was very angry, and he went swimming away, lashing the water to a foam with his tail, while the Jackal hurried up the bank.

The next day the Jackal returned to the river to catch crabs for his dinner. But this time he was very cautious. So he called out, “Whenever I go fishing for my dinner, I see the nice little crabs crawling up through the mud, then I reach down and catch them and eat them. Oh, how I wish that I could see a nice little crab!”

The old Alligator was buried in the mud at the bottom of the river and he heard every word, so he popped out the point of his snout, saying to himself, “That Jackal will take the tip of my nose for a crab and, when he puts his paw down to catch me, I will gobble him up.”

But, of course, when the Jackal saw the tip of the Alligator’s nose, he called out, in a saucy voice, “Ha, ha! my friend! So that is where you are hidden! I am glad to know where you are. Thank you, wise Mr. Alligator! I will not take my dinner with you today.”

And the little Jackal ran barking up the bank as fast as he could go, while the old Alligator lashed the water to a foam with his tail.

On the following day the old Alligator hid himself in the bulrushes close to the bank of the river. He was determined to catch that saucy Jackal.

When the Jackal was hungry for his dinner, he went again to the river to catch crabs. This time, he was very cautious; he went peering all around. He was really much afraid of that old Alligator. However, he called out in a loud and cheerful voice:

“Where have all the nice little crabs gone today? I do not see one, and I am so hungry! Even when they are down under the water I can see them blow bubbles. All the little bubbles go, ‘Pop! pop! pop!’”

When the Alligator heard this, he laughed to himself, “I will pretend to be a little crab and blow bubbles; but, when that Jackal puts in his paws, I will catch him and gobble him up!”

So the Alligator began to blow bubbles. “Puff, puff, puff! Bubble, bubble!” But, of course, the bubbles he blew were very large bubbles. They rushed to the top of the water and burst there—“POP! POP! POP!”

As soon as the Jackal saw those big bubbles, he ran away as fast as he could go, calling out, “Thank you, kindly, Mr. Alligator! Thank you! I am glad to see by the bubbles just where you are hidden in the mud. I would not have come here had I known that you were still around.”

The Alligator was so angry that he lashed the water to a foam with his tail. “I will not be tricked again by that saucy Jackal,” he said. “Next time, I will be as cunning as he is and catch him at his own game.”

The Alligator waited for the Jackal many, many days, but the Jackal did not return to the river.

“Who knows,” said the Jackal to himself, “but another time that greedy old Alligator will gobble me up. I will not go fishing for crabs any more. I will eat wild figs after this.”

So the Jackal stayed in the jungle and ate wild ripe figs for his dinner.

When the Alligator found out that the Jackal did not come down to the river for crabs, he was very angry. “I will follow that rascal up on the land and catch him next time,” he said.

And the Alligator crawled and crawled up on the land, dragging his long body through the jungle until he came to the largest fig tree. Here he collected a pile of wild figs and buried himself under them to wait for the Jackal.

After a while the Jackal came scampering into the jungle. But when the little rascal saw the huge pile of wild figs on the ground, he said, “Aha, that looks as though someone was buried under it. Maybe my friend, the Alligator, is under those figs.”

And so the Jackal called out cheerfully:

“The nice juicy wild figs I like to eat tumble about on the ground as the wind blows them. This great pile of figs is so still I am sure they are not good to eat. No! I will not eat those figs.”

“How suspicious the Jackal is, to be sure,” said the Alligator to himself. “But if he wants to see figs tumble about I can make them, and when he comes to eat them, I will catch him and gobble him up.” So the great beast shook himself and all the figs went, rolling right off his back, farther than any blustering wind could have blown them, and the Jackal could see the leathery back of the Alligator. So he scampered away, calling out mockingly:

“So kind of you, Mr. Alligator, to let me know just where you are buried under that great heap of figs. No! I don’t believe that I want to eat any figs today.”

The Alligator was so angry that he snapped his jaws and gnashed his teeth with rage. He ran after the Jackal as fast as he could go but, of course, a big Alligator cannot crawl very fast on his short legs, and the Jackal ran so much faster that the Alligator had to give up the chase. But he said to himself:

“I will not allow that tricky little wretch to mock me and run out of my reach in this way. I will show him that I can be just as cunning as he is.”

So, early the next morning, the old Alligator crawled as fast as he could to the Jackal’s den and crept into it and hid himself to wait for the little Jackal to come home.

When the Jackal came near to his den, he thought, “Dear me! dear me! The ground is all torn up about here as though some great heavy creature had been crawling over it, and the earth is knocked down at the side of my door as though some big animal had been pushing through it. I certainly will not go into my den until I am sure that everything is safe there.”

Then the little Jackal began to call out in a sweet voice, “Little house, my pretty little house! Why do you not answer me when I call? When all is safe and right you always call out to me and welcome me back home. Is anything wrong today, little house, that you will not speak to me?”

When the Alligator heard this, he said, “If that is true I’d better call out, so he will know that all is right in his house.” And, in a very gentle voice, the Alligator murmured, “Welcome home, sweet little Jackal! Welcome home!”

Upon hearing this the frightened Jackal thought, “Oh, oh! That dreadful old Alligator is in my house. Well, I will surely kill him this time, or he will catch and kill me.”

Then the Jackal answered, very sweetly, “Thank you, my dear little house! I like to hear your sweet voice! I’m coming right in. But first, I must collect some fire-wood to cook my dinner.” So the Jackal ran about as fast as he could and dragged all the branches and dry sticks close to the mouth of the den.

The old Alligator kept very still, and smiled as he said to himself, “Aha! At last I will catch that tiresome little Jackal! In a few minutes he will run in here and then won’t I snap him up?” And the old Alligator rolled his eyes and smacked his lips and ground his teeth.

Now when the Jackal had piled up all the sticks that he could find, he pushed them close up to the den and set them on fire. And the smoke and flames filled the den and smothered the wicked old Alligator and burned him to a cinder.

The little Jackal danced about the den singing:

“Ring-a-ting-a-ting! How do you like my house, friend Alligator? Is it nice and warm in my house, friend Alligator? The Alligator will trouble me no more! Ding-dong, ding-dong! So I dance and sing! Sing-song, sing-song! My enemy is gone! Ring-a-ting, ting-a-ting, ding, ding, dong!”

THE BOLD BLACKBIRD

Once upon a time a Blackbird and his mate lived happily in a tall tree. The Blackbird kept singing sweetly to his mate, pouring out his heart, as they built their nest together. And when the nest was finished and they settled in it, he sang more sweetly than ever.

Now, the King was riding that way and, when he heard this song of joy, he said to the Fowler: “Catch that Blackbird, so that I may hear his happy song every day.”

Not long after that the Fowler came with his nets and, by mistake, he caught Mrs. Blackbird. Now Mrs. Blackbird could sing hardly a note, but the Fowler could not tell her from Mr. Blackbird as both wore such black feathers.

The King was delighted to get the bird and he put her into a cage. But Mrs. Blackbird was so unhappy without her husband that she began to mourn and droop, and gave unhappy little chirps.

The King could not understand why he never heard the glad song of the forest; but he kept her a prisoner, hoping that some day she might sing.

Now, when Mr. Blackbird heard that his dear little wife had been stolen by the King, he was very angry indeed. He made up his mind that he would go to the palace and make war upon the King, demanding that his wife be set free. So, he got a long sharp thorn, and tied it at his waist for a sword. On his head he put half a walnut shell for a helmet. He took the skin of a dead frog and put it on for armor, and the other half of the walnut shell he used for a drum. And so he marched away beating upon his drum to make war upon the King.

As he walked along the road, beating upon his drum, he met a Cat.

“Miaow! Miaow!” said the Cat. “Where are you going, Mr. Blackbird?”

“I am going to fight against the King,” answered the bold Blackbird.

“I will go with you and help you,” said the Cat, “for the King drowned my kittens, and I should like to help punish him.”

“Jump into my ear, then,” said the bold Blackbird, “and I will take you with me.”

So the Cat climbed into the Blackbird’s ear, curled up and went to sleep; the Blackbird marched on beating upon his drum.

Further down the road he met some Ants.

“Where are you going, Mr. Blackbird?” asked the Ants.

“I am going to fight against the King,” answered the bold Blackbird, “for he has stolen my wife and shut her up in a cage.”

“We will join you,” said the Ants, “for the King poured hot water down our hole.”

“Jump into my ear,” said the Blackbird.

So they jumped in, and away went the Blackbird beating upon his drum.

Next the Blackbird met a Rope and a Club, and when they heard that he was going to fight against the King, they jumped into his ear, and away they all went together.

Not far from the palace of the King, the Blackbird had to cross over a river.

“Where are you going, Mr. Blackbird?” asked the River.

“To fight against the King, for he has taken my wife as prisoner.”

“I will join you,” said the River.

“Jump into my ear,” said the Blackbird. So the River went into his ear, and away they all went to the palace of the King.

When they reached the outer gate, the bold Blackbird knocked loudly: “Thump! Thump! Thump!”

“Who is there?” said the Porter.

“General Blackbird, who has come to make war upon the King and to get his wife back again,” said the Blackbird.

When the Porter saw General Blackbird in his frog-skin coat of armor, with his helmet and drum made from a walnut shell, and with a thorn for a sword, he laughed so hard that he could scarcely open the gate. And when the King saw the bold bird, he laughed so heartily he nearly fell from his throne. “Ha! Ha! Ha!” roared the King. “What do you wish with me, bold General Blackbird?”

“I want my wife at once,” said the Blackbird, beating upon his drum, rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub!

“You shall not have her! I have shut her up in a cage and I am waiting for her to sing to me,” said the King.

“Very well, then,” answered the Blackbird. “War is declared and you must take the consequences.” Rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub! went the drum.

“Seize that insolent bird,” said the King, “and shut him up in the hen-house. There will be nothing left of him in the morning.”

So the servants took the Blackbird and threw him out into the hen-house.

When all the world was sound asleep, Blackbird said:

“Miaow! Miaow,” said the big Pussy Cat. And in an instant all was wild confusion in the hen-house.

“Cluck-cluck-cluck!” said the Hens, as they went scurrying all over the place. “Bad luck-cluck-cluck!”

“Cock-a-doodle-do-oo! Get out of here, oh, do!” shrieked the Rooster.

“Quack, Quack!” said the Ducks. “Alack, Alack!”

“Hiss-ss! Hiss-ss! What’s amiss-ss?” hissed the Geese.

But the big Pussy Cat caught them all, scratched out their feathers, and soon made an end of them. Then she climbed back into the Blackbird’s ear, and they all went to sleep.

The next morning, the King said to his servants, “Go and find the body of that insolent bird and give all of my poultry an extra measure of corn.”

But when they entered the chicken-yard, there was General Blackbird strutting about among all the dead fowls.

The King was very angry when he heard about this, and he said, “Tonight, you must shut that insolent bird in the stable among my prancing steeds. They will soon kick the life out of him.”

So General Blackbird was shut in the stable.

At midnight, when all the world was asleep, Blackbird said:

Out came the Rope and the Club, and the Rope bound all the horses until they could not move, and the Club beat them until they all fell down dead.

Then the Rope and the Club climbed back into the Blackbird’s ear, and they all went to sleep again.

The next morning the King said, “I am sure my wild horses have settled that Blackbird. Go out and bring in his corpse.”

The servants went out to the stable, and there was the Blackbird sitting on a stall, drumming away on his walnut shell, while all around him were the dead bodies of the horses. Now these horses had cost the King a great deal of money and to have them killed in this way was more than he could stand.

“That Blackbird shall not trick me again,” scolded the King. “I will kill him tonight. Put him in with my Elephants and they will crush the life out of him.”

So that night the servants shut the Blackbird up in the shed with all the big Elephants.

At midnight, when all the world was sound asleep, the Blackbird began to sing:

Then out came the swarm of Ants from the Blackbird’s ear. They crawled inside the Elephants’ trunks; they burrowed into the Elephants’ brains; they bit them and stung them so sharply that the Elephants all went mad and trumpeted wildly as they pushed each other about tramping upon each other until they all fell down dead.

The next morning the King said to his servants, “Go and bring me the proof that the insolent Blackbird is dead.”

But, when the servants went out, there they found the Blackbird playing upon his drum, while about him all the dead Elephants were piled upon the ground.

When the King heard this he was furious, and he said, “I cannot imagine how he does this, but, tonight, you must tie him to my bed and I will watch to see what happens.”

So that night General Blackbird was escorted to the King’s bedroom, and there he was tied fast to the King’s bed.

The King would not go to sleep, but kept awake listening to find out what the Blackbird was doing.

At midnight the Blackbird began to sing:

Then out came the River, drip-drip-drip, pour-pour-pouring out of the Blackbird’s ear. It flooded the room; the chairs and tables began to float about; then the King’s bed began to float, and the King himself was wet. At last the King cried out:

“Oh, good General Blackbird, stop the River! I will give you back your wife if you will only be gone and leave me in peace.”

So the Blackbird stopped the River, took his wife and they went back to their home.

On the way, the Blackbird took all his helpers out of his ear and put each one back where he lived. Taking off his helmet, he said, with a low bow:

“My friends, my wife and I appreciate and thank you for your timely assistance. Without your aid, I should never have been able to overcome the enemy.”

Then the Blackbird threw off his frog-skin coat of armor, put aside his thorn sword, his walnut helmet and his drum, and he and his wife flew back to their home in the tall tree.

He sang her a sweet song, and they all lived happily ever after.

THE KID AND THE TIGER

Once upon a time there lived in the forest a mother goat who had four fat little kids, named Roley, Poley, Skipster and Jumpster.

Not far away from the home of the goats lived a mother tiger with her two little cubs.

Now the mother tiger always pretended to be a dear friend of the Nanny goat, but she really was jealous because Nanny had four little ones while she herself had only two.

One day the old tiger growled to herself, “If only I could find some way to eat up two of Nanny’s kids, then all things would be equal. But I must never let Nanny suspect me.” So the tricky tiger licked her striped coat until it fairly shone and she went to call on the Nanny goat.

“Dear friend Nanny,” she said with a sweet smile, “my little ones have gone out and I am very lonely at home. Do please let one of your dear little kids sleep with me.”

“Why, I shall be very glad to have one of them go,” answered the stupid goat, for she felt flattered that one of her children should be invited to visit the great tiger.

So Mother Goat went out to find her children. They were all having a frolic together. Roley and Poley were rolling over and over upon the ground, and Jumpster was jumping over Skipster.

“Come, children! Come, children!” called their mother. “A good, kind friend has invited one of you to come and spend the night in her house.”

“Ma—aa, Ma—aa,” bleated all the kids as they came running up and three of the little kids shouted, “Let me go! Let me! Oh, let me!”

But Roley, who was a wise little kid, said very quietly, “Who is the friend, Mammy?”

“Why, it is your dear Aunt Yellow-Stripe,” answered the Mother Goat.

Then all the little kids looked very sad, for they were afraid of the tiger. Although the Mother Tiger always smiled upon them, they could see her glistening teeth and when she tried to shake paws with them, they were afraid of her cruel claws; sometimes, when she rolled her eyes and looked at them, they felt that there was a gleam in her eyes which was not for their good.

“No-oo, thank you, Mammy! I would rather stay at home with you,” said Skipster.

“No-oo, No-oo, thank you, Mammy!” said Jumpster.

“No-oo, No-oo, thank you, Mammy!” said Poley.

They looked about at Roley to join in their frolic but, to their great surprise, Roley said, “Yes, Mammy, I will go, gladly.”

“Baa-ba-bad. Too bad-baa-baad!” bleated the other three kids. “Oh, don’t go, poor Roley, we do not trust that terrible tiger!”

But Roley would not heed their warning. He knew what he was about and he made up his mind that he would not let that terrible tiger trick him.

So Roley went home with the tiger, and although she purred over him and made a great fuss over him, he watched her very sharply.

When it was time to go to bed, Roley pretended to go to sleep, but he was watching all the time. At last he heard the old tiger snoring. He got up as softly as he could and went to the back of the den and found one of the baby tigers. They had not gone out as their mother had said, but were sleeping in a dark corner.

Roley took the little tiger-cub and put it down by the Mother Tiger, then he went and hid by the other little tiger.

About midnight the old Mother Tiger awoke and felt the little warm thing curled up by her side. Then she brought down her powerful paw with such force that she killed the little one at once, and gobbled him up. It was so pitchy black that she did not know, until morning, that she had eaten one of her own babies by mistake, for there was little Roley on the floor playing with her other little one.

When she realized what had happened she was wild with rage. Her eyes gleamed with a cruel light, but she managed to purr out sweetly, “Did you sleep well last night, Roley dear?”

“Yes, Auntie,” said Roley, “only a gnat stung me.”

“Well, never mind,” she murmured. “Just come again tonight and we shall see what we shall see.”

That night everything happened just as before; only Roley put a huge stone in his place, and then he ran for home as fast as he could go.

At midnight, when the tiger awoke, she brought down her paw upon the stone.

“My gracious,” she said, “but that is a strong kid. I must kill him now, or he will kill me when he grows up.” So she bit at the stone with all her might—and broke all her front teeth. Howling with rage and pain, she looked all about her den, but Roley was not to be found.

Mother Tiger lay awake all night with the pain in her teeth. She thought and thought, but she could not plan her revenge upon Roley. So, in the morning, she went to a wise old, one-eyed tiger, her friend and counsellor, and asked him how she could punish Roley.

They talked and they walked and they walked and they talked and when they came back to the den, there was the reckless Roley, rolling about with the little tiger cub.

“Ha, ha,” laughed the old tiger. “So here you are, you little rascal! Just sit down and I will tell you a nice story.”

“Oh, do, dear Uncle One-eye,” cried Roley.

So One-Eye began, “When I eat my dinner, I like to eat kids. Four little kids are just one mouthful for me, and today I’m very hungry. So I am coming to your house and I shall make one mouthful of you and your brothers and sisters.”

“Good, good!” cried Roley, clapping his paws. “What good stories you do tell. Now, listen, and I will tell you a story.

“When you come to eat us up, Skipster will hold you by the forelegs, and Jumpster will hold you by the hind legs, and Poley will hold your head, and Roley will chop it off. And our mother will have a big fire ready, and we will cook you. But I think first we will skin off your coat for it will make us such a nice striped rug for our floor.”

This story terrified the old tiger and he took to his heels and ran for home as fast as he could go.

On the way home, he met six other tigers and he said, “My dear friends, I know where there’s a fine kid for you to eat. I do not care for him, myself, but I will help you catch him, and I will watch you eat him.”

The six tigers were all so hungry that each one would have liked to eat the whole kid. As they followed One-Eye, each tiger was plotting how to make the others do the work so that he could get the kid.

They started toward the goat’s home and, sure enough, there was Roley, rolling along toward home. But the minute he saw the tigers he crawled up into a tall tree that grew near his house.

The first tiger gave a spring in the air, but could not reach the branch where Roley was sitting. Then the second tiger tried. And, one after another, each tiger jumped, but missed Roley. So he sat there on his perch, mocking them: “Baa-ba—too baad! too bad!”

At last the tigers had to give up and they all sat in a ring and took counsel together. Then One-Eye said, “I know how we can reach him. I will stand here against the tree trunk and the rest of you can climb on my back, one on top of the other. Then we can catch the rascal very easily.”

They all agreed that this was an excellent plan. So One-Eye propped himself against the tree, and the other tigers climbed one on top of the other, until the top tiger reached out his paw and almost touched Roley. As he did so, One-Eye cocked up his eye to see how they were getting along.

Roley called out, “Mother, oh, Mother, give me a lump of mud, and I will hit the old brute in his one eye, and that will finish him.”

When One-Eye heard this he was so frightened that he gave a great jump and down tumbled the whole seven tigers in a heap, and all fighting and biting and scratching and spitting at each other, for they imagined other beasts were fighting them, and so they fought with one another until they were quite worn out.

As soon as each of the seven tigers got his four legs to himself, off he went to his home.

Then Roley climbed down from the tree and all those joyous kids kicked up their heels and rejoiced together.

Although they never had a tiger skin rug for their floor, they were just as happy, for they did not care to be reminded of their tricky friend, Yellow-Stripe. And the terrible tigers were so frightened that they never again troubled Nanny Goat and her four frolicsome kids.

THE BRAHMIN AND THE TIGER

Once upon a time there lived in India a very good man. He was a Brahmin, or priest, and he had such a kind heart that he could not bear to see anything suffer. Everyone loved him, because he was so good to all the poor people and so gentle with the beasts.

One day, as the Brahmin was walking along the road, he saw a huge Tiger who had been caught by the villagers and put in an iron cage to punish him for his wickedness.

“Brother Brahmin, Brother Brahmin,” moaned the Tiger, “pray have pity on me and let me out of this cruel cage for one little minute, so that I may get a drink of water for I am dying of thirst.”

“Oh, no, Brother Tiger,” answered the Brahmin, “I could not do that, for you are being punished for your wickedness. Moreover if I should let you out of your cage, you would eat me up.”

“In truth, I would not,” answered the Tiger. “I would never do such an ungrateful thing. Have pity on me, kind Brother Brahmin, I pray!”

Then the Brahmin, feeling sorry for the Tiger, unlocked the cage door. But the moment he opened the door, the Tiger sprang out upon him, growling, “Gurr! gurr! gurr-r-r! Now I will eat you first and drink the water afterwards.”

“Why, Brother Tiger!” said the Brahmin, “do not kill me so hastily. You promised not to eat me, and now, when I set you free, you break your word. Is that fair, or just? Is that according to the law?”

“Gurr! gurr! gurr-r-r!” growled the Tiger. “I care not whether it is fair or just. I learned no law in the jungle. Man is the food for the beast.”

“But, Brother Tiger, you must listen to reason,” said the Brahmin. “We will ask six judges if you are keeping your word to me, and if each one of them says that you should kill me, then I am willing to die.”

“Very well,” agreed the Tiger, “we will ask the judgment of six and if they all say that you are to die, I shall kill you, but if anyone of them grants you your life, I will have to let you go.”

So the Brahmin and the Tiger walked to a Banyan tree, and the Brahmin said:

“Oh, Banyan tree, Banyan tree, hear and give judgment!”

“On what must I give judgment?” asked the Banyan tree.

“This Tiger was caught in a cruel cage,” said the Brahmin. “He was thirsty and begged piteously for a drink of water. He promised not to hurt me if I set him free. But when I did so, he sprang upon me to kill me. Do you think it fair and just for him to break his word?”

The Banyan tree rustled his leaves and whispered in a mournful voice, “Men take shelter under my boughs from the scorching rays of the sun. Yet when I have protected them and they are rested, they break my pretty branches and scatter my leaves and take my fruit. Men certainly are an ungrateful race! So I say let the Tiger eat the Brahmin.”

“Now, Brother Brahmin,” growled the Tiger, “I shall eat you.”

“One moment, Brother Tiger,” begged the Brahmin. “We agreed to ask six judges, and we have had the opinion of only one. You must not eat me yet.”

“Very well,” said the Tiger, and they went on till they met a Camel.

“Brother Camel, Brother Camel,” cried the Brahmin. “Hear and give judgment.” The Brahmin then told how he had opened the cage door for the Tiger and how the Tiger had broken his word. “Do you call that just, or right, Brother Camel?” asked the Brahmin.

“As just and right as I am treated by man,” snorted the Camel, gnashing his teeth in rage. “When I was young and strong and could carry a heavy load for my master, he took care of me and gave me food and shelter. Now I am old and have lost my strength in the service, and so he overloads me, starves me and beats me. Men are an unjust and cruel race. So I say let the Tiger eat the Brahmin.”

“Now, Brother Brahmin,” growled the Tiger, “I shall eat you.” And he sprang towards the Brahmin.

“Stop! Brother Tiger, stop!” said the Brahmin. “We have heard only the judgment of two.”

“Very well,” answered the Tiger.

At a little distance they found a poor old Bullock, lying by the side of the road.

“Brother Bullock, Brother Bullock,” said the Brahmin. “Hear and give judgment.” Then the Brahmin explained the whole story again and said, “Do you call that fair or just?”

“When I was able to work,” answered the Bullock, “my master fed me and treated me very carefully. Now I am old, he has forgotten all I ever did for him and has left me by the roadside to die. Men show no mercy to the beasts. So I say, let the Tiger eat the Brahmin.”

“You hear that, Brother Brahmin?” growled the Tiger. “Now I shall eat you up.”

“Pray, Brother Tiger, have patience! We have met only half of our judges. I still have three more to ask.”

“Very well,” answered the Tiger, and they went on together.

After a time they saw an Eagle flying through the air. “Brother Eagle, Brother Eagle,” shouted the Brahmin, “fly down here and give judgment.”

The Eagle came soaring slowly down and sat upon a rock. Then the Brahmin told his whole story and said, “Do you think that it is fair, or just of the Tiger to eat me after I set him free?”

“Well,” answered the Eagle, “men are not fair nor just to me. Whenever men see me, they try to shoot me and they climb the rocks to spoil my nest and steal my little ones. Men know no pity. They seek only to slay us. So I say let the Tiger eat the Brahmin.”

“Hear that, Brother Brahmin? Now I shall have to kill you,” growled the Tiger.

“Have patience, Brother Tiger,” answered the Brahmin. “We have yet two more judges to ask.”

“Very well,” said the Tiger, and they went on their way.

Presently they came to a river and in the mud they saw an old Alligator. The Brahmin told him the whole story hoping that the Alligator would give him a favorable answer. But the Alligator in great anger snorted out:

“Humph! I hunt no man, but, whenever I put my nose out of the water, men torment me and try to kill me. As long as men live, we shall have no peace. So I say let the Tiger eat the Brahmin.”

Then the Tiger, sprang toward the Brahmin. “This time I shall eat you up, for all are against you.”

“One moment!” said the Brahmin. “I still have one opinion of the sixth judge.”

So the Tiger was obliged to wait, and by and by they met a little Jackal who came gaily prancing down the road.

“Oh, Brother Jackal! dear little Brother Jackal,” called the Brahmin, “please do stop a minute and give judgment.”

“On what must I give judgment?” barked the little Jackal.

Again the Brahmin told his story and asked, “Do you think it just, or fair that the Tiger should eat me up after I set him free from that cruel cage?”

“Cage, cage, cage?” asked the little Jackal in a perplexed tone. “I don’t quite understand. What sort of cage was it?”

“Why, a big iron cage down in the village,” answered the Brahmin. “The men had caught the Tiger to punish him for his wickedness. When I came down the road he begged for a drink of water and promised he would not eat me, if I set him free. But when I opened the cage-door, he sprang upon me to kill me. Do you call that fair, or just?”

“Dear me, dear me!” said the little Jackal. “How can I decide who is right or wrong until I see the cage and the exact position you were in when the quarrel began? Show me the place and I will try to judge.”

So the Brahmin and the Tiger and the little Jackal went back to the place where the empty cage stood.

“Oh, is that the cage?” asked the Jackal.

“Yes, yes,” answered the Brahmin.

“Well, Brahmin, show me exactly where you stood,” said the Jackal.

“Here,” said the Brahmin. “I stood here in the road looking in the cage at the cruel Tiger.”

“Where were you, Tiger?” asked the Little Jackal.

“Why, I stood in the cage, so!” answered the Tiger jumping into the cage, “and my head was leaning against the iron bars, so!”

“Very good, very good!” said the little Jackal. “But I cannot give judgment until I understand a little more. Why did you not come out by yourself, Tiger? Was the cage-door open, or shut?”

“Why, the cage-door was shut and bolted!” answered the Brahmin.

“Then shut and bolt it,” said the Jackal, “for I must see how all this happened.”

The Brahmin shut and bolted the cage-door and, turning to the Jackal, he said, “Now give us your judgment, Brother Jackal.”

“Ha-ha-ha!” barked the little Jackal, joyously. “Leave it locked! Leave it locked, Brother Brahmin! Oh, you wicked and ungrateful Tiger! After the good Brahmin was kind enough to open the cage-door, was it fair, or just, for you to spring upon him to kill him? You may stay in that cage all the rest of your life. Goodbye, Brother Brahmin, goodbye,” said the little Jackal. “My way leads this way and your way leads that. Goodbye!”

And away ran the little Jackal in one direction while Brother Brahmin went on his way, rejoicing that he was safe. And shut up in the cage, the old Tiger roared in a rage.