The Talking Beasts: A Book of Fable Wisdom

Chapter 4

Chapter 44,392 wordsPublic domain

"Not so fast, I beseech ye, friends," replied the Monkey; "we owe justice to ourselves as well as to you. What remains is due to me in right of my office."

Thus saying, he crammed the whole into his mouth, and with great gravity dismissed the court.

The Crow and the Mussel

A Crow having found a Mussel on the seashore; took it in his beak and tried for a long time to break the shell by hammering it upon a stone.

Another Crow--a sly old fellow--came and watched him for some time in silence.

"Friend," said he at last, "you'll never break it in that way. Listen to me. This is the way to do it: Fly up as high as you can, and let the tiresome thing fall upon a rock. It will be smashed then sure enough, and you can eat it at your leisure."

The simple-minded and unsuspecting Crow did as he was told, flew up and let the Mussel fall.

Before he could descend to eat it, however, the other bird had pounced upon it and carried it away.

The Ass and His Purchaser

A Man wished to purchase an Ass, and agreed with his owner that he should try him before he bought him. He took the Ass home, and put him in the straw-yard with his other asses, upon which the beast left all the others and joined himself at once to the most idle and the greatest eater of them all.

The Man put a halter on him, and led him back to his owner: and when he was asked how, in so short a time, he could have made a trial of him, "I do not need," he answered, "a trial; I know that he will be just such another as the one whom of all the rest he chose for his companion."

A Country Fellow and the River

A stupid Boy, who was sent to market by the good old woman, his Mother, to sell butter and cheese, made a stop by the way at a swift river, and laid himself down on the bank there, until it should run out.

About midnight, home he went to his Mother, with all his market trade back again.

"Why, how now, my Son?" said she. "What ill fortune have you had, that you have sold nothing all day?"

"Why, Mother, yonder is a river that has been running all this day, and I stayed till just now, waiting for it to run out; and there it is, running still."

"My Son," said the good woman, "thy head and mine will be laid in the grave many a day before this river has all run by. You will never sell your butter and cheese if you wait for that."

The Playful Ass

An Ass climbed up to the roof of a building and, frisking about there, broke in the tiling. His Master went up after him, and quickly drove him down, beating him severely with a thick wooden cudgel.

The Ass then cried out in astonishment, "Why, I saw the monkey do this very thing yesterday, and you all laughed heartily, as if it afforded you great amusement!"

The Boys and the Frogs

Some idle boys, playing near a pond, saw a number of Frogs in the water, and began to pelt them with stones. They had killed several of them, when one of the Frogs, lifting his head out of the water, cried out: "Pray stop, my Boys: you forget that what is sport to you is death to us!"

The Camel and His Master

One night a Camel looked into the tent where his Master was lying and said: "Kind Master, will you not let me put my head inside of the door? The wind blows very cold to-night."

"Oh, yes," said the Man. "There is plenty of room."

So the Camel moved forward and stretched his head into the tent. "Ah!" he said, "this is what I call comfort."

In a little while he called to his Master again. "Now if I could only warm my neck also," he said.

"Then put your neck inside," said his Master, kindly. "You will not be in my way."

The Camel did so, and for a time was very well contented. Then, looking around, he said: "If I could only put my forelegs inside I should feel a great deal better."

His Master moved a little and said: "You may put your forelegs and shoulders inside, for I know that the wind blows cold to-night."

The Camel had hardly planted his forefeet within the tent when he spoke again:

"Master," he said, "I keep the tent open by standing here. I think I ought to go wholly within."

"Yes, come in," said the Man. "There is hardly room for us both, but I do not want to keep you out in the cold."

So the Camel crowded into the tent, but he was no sooner inside than he said: "You were right when you said that there was hardly room for us both. I think it would be better for you to stand outside and so give me a chance to turn around and lie down."

Then, without more ado, he rudely pushed the Man out at the door, and took the whole tent for himself.

The Flies and the Honey-pot

A jar of Honey having been upset in a housekeeper's room, a number of Flies were attracted by its sweetness, and placing their feet in it ate it greedily.

Their feet, however, became so smeared with the Honey that they could not use their wings, nor release themselves, and so were suffocated.

Just as they were expiring, they exclaimed, "O foolish creatures that we are; for the sake of a little pleasure we have destroyed ourselves!"

The Spectacles

Jupiter, one day, enjoying himself over a bowl of nectar, and in a merry humour, determined to make mankind a present.

Momus was appointed to convey it, who, mounted on a rapid car, was presently on earth. "Come hither," said he, "ye happy mortals; great Jupiter has opened for your benefit his all-gracious hands. 'Tis true he made you somewhat short-sighted, but, to remedy that inconvenience, behold now he has favoured you!"

So saying, he opened his portmanteau, when an infinite number of spectacles tumbled out, and were picked up by the crowd with all the eagerness imaginable. There were enough for all, for every man had his pair.

But it was soon found that these spectacles did not represent objects to all mankind alike; for one pair was purple, another blue; one was white and another black; some of the glasses were red, some green, and some yellow. In short, there were all manner of colours, and every shade of colour. However, notwithstanding this diversity, every man was charmed with his own, as believing it the best, and enjoyed in opinion all the satisfaction of truth.

The Bear and the Fowls

A Bear, who was bred in the savage desert, wished to see the world, and he travelled from forest to forest, and from one kingdom to another, making many profound observations on his way.

One day he came by accident into a farmer's yard, where he saw a number of Fowls standing to drink by the side of a pool. Observing that after every sip they turned up their heads toward the sky, he could not forbear inquiring the reason of so peculiar a ceremony.

They told him that it was by way of returning thanks to Heaven for the benefits they received; and was indeed an ancient and religious custom, which they could not, with a safe conscience, or without impiety, omit.

Here the Bear burst into a fit of laughter, at once mimicking their gestures, and ridiculing their superstition, in a most contemptuous manner.

On this the Cock, with a spirit suitable to the boldness of his character, addressed him in the following words: "As you are a stranger, sir, you may perhaps be excused for the indecency of your behaviour; yet give me leave to tell you that none but a Bear would ridicule any religious ceremonies in the presence of those who believe them of importance."

THE FABLES OF BIDPAI

"In English now they teach us wit. In English now they say: Ye men, come learn of beasts to live, to rule and to obey, To guide you wisely in the world, to know to shun deceit, To fly the crooked paths of guile, to keep your doings straight."

SIR THOMAS NORTH

THE FABLES OF BIDPAI

The Snake and the Sparrows

It is related that two Sparrows once made their nest in the roof of a house; and, contenting themselves with a single grain, so lived. Once on a time they had young ones, and both the mother and father used to go out in search of food for their support; and what they procured they made up into grains and dropped into their crops.

One day, the male Sparrow had gone out somewhere. When he came back he beheld the female Sparrow fluttering in the greatest distress around the nest, while she uttered piteous cries. He exclaimed, "Sweet friend! what movements are these which I behold in thee?" She replied, "How shall I not lament, since, when I returned after a moment's absence, I saw a huge Snake come and prepare to devour my offspring, though I poured forth piteous cries. It was all in vain, for the Snake said, 'Thy sigh will have no effect on my dark-mirrored scales.' I replied, 'Dread this, that I and the father of these children will gird up the waist of vengeance, and will exert ourselves to the utmost for thy destruction.' The Snake laughed on hearing me, and that cruel oppressor has devoured my young and has also taken his rest in the nest."

When the male Sparrow heard this story, his frame was wrung with anguish; and the fire of regret for the loss of his offspring fell on his soul. At that moment the master of the house was engaged in lighting his lamp; and holding in his hand a match, dipped in grease and lighted, was about to put it into the lamp-holder. The Sparrow flew and snatched the match from his hand and threw it into the nest. The master of the house, through fear that the fire would catch to the roof, and that the consequences would be most pernicious, immediately ran up on the terrace and began clearing away the nest from beneath, in order to put out the fire. The Snake beheld in front the danger of the fire, and heard above the sound of the pickaxe. It put out its head from a hole which it had near the roof, and no sooner did it do so than it received a blow of death from the pickaxe.

And the moral of this fable is, that the Snake despised its enemy, and made no account of him, until in the end that enemy pounded his head with the stone of vengeance.

The Geese and the Tortoise

It is related that in a pool whose pure water reflected every image like a clear mirror, once resided two Geese and a Tortoise, and in consequence of their being neighbours, the thread of their circumstances had been drawn out into sincere friendship, and they passed their lives contentedly.

In that water which was the source of their life and the support of their existence, however, a complete failure began to manifest itself, and a glaring alteration became evident. When the Geese perceived that state of things they withdrew their hearts from the home to which they were accustomed and determined on emigrating. Therefore with hearts full of sorrow and eyes full of tears, they approached the Tortoise, and introduced the subject of parting.

The Tortoise wept at the intelligence and piteously exclaimed, "What words are these, and how can existence be supported without sympathizing friends? And since that I have not power even to take leave, how can I endure the load of separation?"

The Geese replied: "Our hearts, too, are wounded by the sharp points of absence, but the distress of being without water is impossible to endure, and therefore of necessity we are about to forsake our friend and country."

The Tortoise rejoined: "O friends! ye know that the distress of the want of water affects me more, and that without water I cannot support myself. At this crisis the rights of ancient companionship demand that ye should take me with you, and not leave me alone in the sorrowful abode of separation."

The Geese answered: "O esteemed comrade! the pang of parting from thee is sharper than that of exile, and wherever we go, though we should pass our time in the utmost comfort, yet, deprived of seeing thee, the eye of our rejoicing would be darkened; but for us to proceed on the earth's surface and so to traverse a great and long distance is impossible, and for thee, too, to fly through the expanse of air and accompany us is impracticable; and such being the case, how can we travel together?"

The Tortoise answered: "Your sagacity will be able to devise a remedy for this matter, and what plan can develop while my spirit is broken by the thought of parting?"

The Geese replied: "O friend! during this period of our friendship we have observed in thee somewhat of hastiness and rashness; perhaps thou wilt not act upon what we say, nor keep firm to thy promise after thou hast made it."

The Tortoise rejoined; "How can it be that ye should speak with a view to my advantage, and I fail to perform a compact which is for my own good?"

Said the Geese: "The condition is that when we take thee up and fly through the air thou wilt not utter a single syllable, for any one who may happen to see us will be sure to throw in a word, and say something in reference to us directly or indirectly. Now, how many soever allusions thou mayest hear, or whatever manoeuvres thou mayest observe, thou must close the path of reply, and not loose thy tongue."

The Tortoise answered: "I am obedient to your commands, and I will positively place the seal of silence on my lips, so that I shall not be even disposed to answer any creature."

The Geese then brought a stick, and the Tortoise laid hold of the middle of it firmly with his teeth, and they, lifting the two ends of the stick, bore him up. When they got to a height in the air, they happened to pass over a village, and the inhabitants thereof having discovered them, were astonished at their proceedings, and came out to look at the sight, and raised a shout from left and right, "Look! how two geese are carrying a tortoise!"

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.