So the Brahmin, the Tiger, and the little Jackal walked back together to the spot where the cage was.

“Now, let us understand the situation,” said the little Jackal.  “Friend Brahmin, where were you?”

“I stood just here by the roadside,” said the Brahmin.

“Tiger, and where were you?” said the little Jackal.

“Why, in the cage, of course,” roared the Tiger.

“Oh, I beg your pardon, Father Tiger,” said the little Jackal, “I really am so stupid; I cannot quite understand what happened.  If you will have a little patience,—­how were you in the cage?  What position were you in?”

“I stood here,” said the Tiger, leaping into the cage, “with my head over my shoulder, so.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” said the little Jackal, “that makes it much clearer; but I still don’t quite understand—­forgive my slow mind—­why did you not come out, by yourself?”

“Can’t you see that the door shut me in?” said the Tiger.

“Oh, I do beg your pardon,” said the little Jackal.  “I know I am very slow; I can never understand things well unless I see just how they were; if you could show me now exactly how that door works I am sure I could understand.  How does it shut?”

“It shuts like this,” said the Brahmin, pushing it to.

“Yes; but I don’t see any lock,” said the little Jackal, “does it lock on the outside?”

“It locks like this,” said the Brahmin.  And he shut and bolted the door!

“Oh, does it, indeed?” said the little Jackal.  “Does it, indeed!  Well, Brother Brahmin, now that it is locked, I should advise you to let it stay locked!  As for you, my friend,” he said to the Tiger, “I think you will wait a good while before you’ll find anyone to let you out again!” Then he made a very low bow to the Brahmin.

“Good-bye, Brother,” he said.  “Your way lies that way, and mine lies this; good-bye!”

THE LITTLE JACKAL AND THE CAMEL

All these stories about the little Jackal that I have told you, show how clever the little Jackal was.  But you know—­if you don’t, you will when you are grown up—­that no matter how clever you are, sooner or later you surely meet some one who is more clever.  It is always so in life.  And it was so with the little Jackal.  This is what happened.

The little Jackal was, as you know, exceedingly fond of shell-fish, especially of river crabs.  Now there came a time when he had eaten all the crabs to be found on his own side of the river.  He knew there must be plenty on the other side, if he could only get to them, but he could not swim.

One day he thought of a plan.  He went to his friend the Camel, and said,—­

“Friend Camel, I know a spot where the sugar-cane grows thick; I’ll show you the way, if you will take me there.”

“Indeed I will,” said the Camel, who was very fond of sugar-cane.  “Where is it?”