Part 8 (1/2)

But after a while the Crab saw that he was being carried somewhere else, indeed to that tree where the Crane used to sit and eat the fish.

”Crane dear,” said he, ”aren't you going to put me in the lake?”

”Crane dear, indeed!” said the Crane, ”do you suppose I was born to carry crabs about? Not I! Just look at that heap of bones under yon tree! Those are the bones of the fish that used to live in your pool. I ate them, and I'm going to eat you!”

”Are you, though!” said the Crab, and gave the Crane's neck a little nip.

Then the Crane saw what a fool he had been to let a Crab put a claw round his neck. He knew that the Crab could kill him if he liked, and he was frightened to death at the thought. People who try to deceive others often pay for it themselves; and that is what happened to the Crane.

”Dear Crab!” said he, with tears streaming from his eyes, ”forgive me! I won't kill you, only let me go!”

”Just put me in the lake, then,” said the Crab.

The Crane stepped down to the lakeside, and laid the Crab upon the mud. And the Crab, as soon as he felt himself safe, nipped off the Crane's head as clean as if it had been cut with a knife.

So perished the treacherous Crane, caught by his own trick. And the Crab lived happily in the beautiful lake for the rest of his life.

UNION IS STRENGTH

There once was a clever Fowler who used to hunt quails. He could imitate the quail's note exactly; and when he had found a hiding-place, he used to sit hidden in it, and call out the quail's note, until a number of quails had come together; then he threw a net over them, and bagged them all.

But amongst the quails was one very clever bird, and he hit on the following device: He told the quails, when they felt the net drop over them, that each one should pop his head through one of the meshes of the net, and then at the word, away they should fly together.

All fell out as he arranged. Next day the Fowler sounded his imitation of the quail's note, and the birds flocked from far and near; then, when a good many had gathered in a clump within his reach, he cast the net, which fell over them and made them all prisoners. They all did what the wise Quail had told them; each quail put his head through one of the meshes, then at a word they were all away together, bearing the net with them. After some little time they saw a large bush, and dropped upon this bush; then the net was held up by the bush, while all the birds got away underneath.

Again and again this happened, until the Fowler began to despair; he came home every night empty-handed, and besides that he had lost ever so many nets.

Why did he keep on trying to catch them, then? Because he thought that sooner or later they would begin to quarrel, and then the game would be his.

And quarrel they soon did. One Quail happened to tread on another's toe.

”What are you doing, clumsy?” said the second Quail angrily.

”I'm very sorry,” said the first; ”I really did not mean to tread on your toe.”

”You did!”

”I tell you I didn't!”