Hindu Literature | Page 7

against unknown acquaintances."
"Sir," said the Jackal, with some warmth, "on the first day of your
encountering the Deer you also were of unknown family and character:
how is it, then, that your friendship with him grows daily greater? True,
I am only Small-wit, the Jackal, but what says the saw?--
"In the land where no wise men are, men of little wit are lords; And the
castor-oil's a tree, where no tree else its shade affords."
The Deer is my friend; condescend, sir, to be my friend also."
'Oh!' broke in the Deer, 'why so much talking? We'll all live together,
and be friendly and happy--
'Foe is friend, and friend is foe, As our actions make them so,'

"Very good," said Sharp-sense; "as you will;" and in the morning each
started early for his own feeding-ground (returning at night). One day
the Jackal drew the Deer aside, and whispered, 'Deer, in one corner of
this wood there is a field full of sweet young wheat; come and let me
show you.' The Deer accompanied him, and found the field, and
afterwards went every day there to eat the green corn, till at last the
owner of the ground spied him and set a snare. The Deer came again
very shortly, and was caught in it, and (after vainly struggling)
exclaimed, 'I am fast in the net, and it will be a net of death to me if no
friend comes to rescue me!' Presently Small-wit, the Jackal, who had
been lurking near, made his appearance, and standing still, he said to
himself, with a chuckle, 'O ho! my scheme bears fruit! When he is cut
up, his bones, and gristle, and blood, will fall to my share and make me
some beautiful dinners,' The Deer, here catching sight of him,
exclaimed with rapture, 'Ah, friend, this is excellent! Do but gnaw these
strings, and I shall be at liberty. How charming to realize the saying!--
'That friend only is the true friend who is near when trouble comes;
That man only is the brave man who can bear the battle-drums; Words
are wind; deed proveth promise: he who helps at need is kin; And the
leal wife is loving though the husband lose or win,'
And is it not written--
'Friend and kinsman--more their meaning than the idle-hearted mind.
Many a friend can prove unfriendly, many a kinsman less than kind: He
who shares his comrade's portion, be he beggar, be he lord, Comes as
truly, comes as duly, to the battle as the board-- Stands before the king
to succor, follows to the pile to sigh-- He is friend, and he is
kinsman--less would make the name a lie.'
"Small-wit answered nothing, but betook himself to examining the
snare very closely.
'This will certainly hold,' muttered he; then, turning to the Deer, he said,
'Good friend, these strings, you see, are made of sinew, and to-day is a
fast-day, so that I cannot possibly bite them. To-morrow morning, if
you still desire it, I shall be happy to serve you,'

When he was gone, the Crow, who had missed the Deer upon returning
that evening, and had sought for him everywhere, discovered him; and
seeing his sad plight, exclaimed--
'How came this about, my friend?'
'This came,' replied the Deer, 'through disregarding a friend's advice,'
'Where is that rascal Small-wit?' asked the Crow.
'He is waiting somewhere by,' said the Deer, 'to taste my flesh,'
'Well,' sighed the Crow, 'I warned you; but it is as in the true verse--
'Stars gleam, lamps flicker, friends foretell of fate; The fated sees,
knows, hears them--all too late.'
And then, with a deeper sigh, he exclaimed,'Ah, traitor Jackal, what an
ill deed hast thou done! Smooth-tongued knave--alas!--and in the face
of the monition too--
'Absent, flatterers' tongues are daggers--present, softer than the silk;
Shun them! 'tis a jar of poison hidden under harmless milk; Shun them
when they promise little! Shun them when they promise much! For,
enkindled, charcoal burneth--cold, it doth defile the touch.'
When the day broke, the Crow (who was still there) saw the master of
the field approaching with his club in his hand.
'Now, friend Deer,' said Sharp-sense on perceiving him, 'do thou cause
thyself to seem like one dead: puff thy belly up with wind, stiffen thy
legs out, and lie very still. I will make a show of pecking thine eyes out
with my beak; and whensoever I utter a croak, then spring to thy feet
and betake thee to flight.'
The Deer thereon placed himself exactly as the Crow suggested, and
was very soon espied by the husbandman, whose eyes opened with joy
at the sight.

'Aha!' said he, 'the fellow has died of himself,' and so speaking, he
released the Deer from the