Now Light o’ Leap, the Crow, had been a spectator of the whole transaction, and wondered at it so much that at last he called out, “Ho!  Golden-skin, thou very laudable Prince, let me too be a friend of thine, and give me thy friendship.”

“Who art thou?” said Golden-skin, who heard him, but would not come out of his hole.

“I am the Crow Light o’ Leap,” replied the other.

“How can I possibly be on good terms with thee?” answered Golden-skin with a laugh; “have you never read—­

    ’When Food is friends with Feeder, look for Woe,
    The Jackal ate the Deer, but for the Crow,’

“No! how was that?”

“I will tell thee,” replied Golden-skin:—­

THE STORY OF THE JACKAL, DEER, AND CROW

“Far away in Behar there is a forest called Champak-Grove,[7] and in it had long lived in much affection a Deer and a Crow.  The Deer, roaming unrestrained, happy and fat of carcase, was one day descried by a Jackal.  ‘Ho! ho!’ thought the Jackal on observing him, ’if I could but get this soft meat for a meal!  It might be—­if I can only win his confidence,’ Thus reflecting he approached, and saluted him.

‘Health be to thee, friend Deer!’

‘Who art thou?’ said the Deer.

‘I’m Small-wit, the Jackal,’ replied the other.  ’I live in the wood here, as the dead do, without a friend; but now that I have met with such a friend as thou, I feel as if I were beginning life again with plenty of relations.  Consider me your faithful servant.’

‘Very well,’ said the Deer; and then, as the glorious King of Day, whose diadem is the light, had withdrawn himself, the two went together to the residence of the Deer.  In that same spot, on a branch of Champak, dwelt the Crow Sharp-sense, an old friend of the Deer.  Seeing them approach together, the Crow said,

‘Who is this number two, friend Deer?’

‘It is a Jackal,’ answered the Deer, ‘that desires our acquaintance.’

‘You should not become friendly to a stranger without reason,’ said Sharp-sense.  ‘Don’t you know?’

    “To folks by no one known house-room deny:—­
    The Vulture housed the Cat, and thence did die.”

‘No! how was that?’ said both.

‘In this wise,’ answered the Crow.

THE STORY OF THE VULTURE, THE CAT, AND THE BIRDS

“On the banks of the Ganges there is a cliff called Vulture-Crag, and thereupon grew a great fig-tree.  It was hollow, and within its shelter lived an old Vulture, named Grey-pate, whose hard fortune it was to have lost both eyes and talons.  The birds that roosted in the tree made subscriptions from their own store, out of sheer pity for the poor fellow, and by that means he managed to live.  One day, when the old birds were gone, Long-ear, the Cat, came there to get a meal of the nestlings; and they, alarmed at perceiving him, set up a chirruping that roused Grey-pate.