Hindu Tales from the Sanskrit - S. M. Mitra (books suggested by elon musk .txt) 📗

The crow and the man behind the tree kept very quiet, watching them; the man with his stick ready to beat the poor helpless birds to death, the crow watching out of mere curiosity. Now a very strange and wonderful thing came to pass. The king of the pigeons, who had his wits about him, said to the imprisoned birds:

“Take the net up in your beaks, all of you spread out your wings at once, and fly straight up into the air as quickly as possible.”

In a moment all the pigeons, who were accustomed to obey their leader, did as they were bid; each little bird seized a separate thread of the net in his beak and up, up, up, they all flew, looking very beautiful with the sunlight gleaming on their white wings. Very soon they were out of sight; and the man, who thought he had hit upon a very clever plan, came forth from his hiding-place, very much surprised at what had happened. He stood gazing up after his vanished net for a little time, and then went away muttering to himself, whilst the wise old crow laughed at him.

When the pigeons had flown some distance, and were beginning to get exhausted, for the net was heavy and they were quite unused to carrying loads, the king bade them rest awhile in a clearing of the forest; and as they all lay on the ground panting for breath, with the cruel net still hampering them, he said:

“What we must do now is to take this horrible net to my old friend Hiranya the mouse, who will, I am quite sure, nibble through the strings for me and set us all free. He lives, as you all know, near the tree where the net was spread, deep underground; but there are many passages leading to his home, and we shall easily find one of the openings. Once there, we will all lift up our voices, and call to him at once, when he will be sure to hear us.” So the weary pigeons took up their burden once more, and sped back whence they had come, greatly to the surprise of the crow, who wondered at their coming back to the very place where misfortune had overtaken them. He very soon learnt the reason, and got so excited watching what was going on, that he hopped out of his nest and perched upon a branch where he could see better. Presently a great clamour arose, one word being repeated again and again: “Hiranya! Hiranya! Hiranya.”

“Why, that’s the name of the mouse who lives down below there!” thought the crow. “Now, what good can he do? I know, I know,” he added, as he remembered the sharp teeth of Hiranya. “That king of the pigeons is a sensible fellow. I must make friends with him.”

Very soon, as the pigeons lay fluttering and struggling outside one of the entrances to Hiranya’s retreat, the mouse came out. He didn’t even need to be told what was wanted, but at once began to nibble the string, first setting free the king, and then all the rest of the birds. “A friend in need is a friend indeed,” cried the king; “a thousand thousand thanks!” And away he flew up into the beautiful free air of heaven, followed by the happy pigeons, none of them ever likely to forget the adventure or to pick up food from the ground without a good look at it first.

The mouse did not at once return to his hole when the birds were gone, but went for a little stroll, which brought him to the ground still strewn with rice, which he began to eat with great relish. “It’s an ill wind,” he said to himself, “which brings nobody any good. There’s many a good meal for my whole family here.”

Presently he was joined by the old crow, who had flown down from his perch unnoticed by Hiranya, and now addressed him in his croaky voice:

“Hiranya,” he said, “for that I know is your name, I am called Laghupatin and I would gladly have you for a friend. I have seen all that you did for the pigeons, and have come to the conclusion that you are a mouse of great wisdom, ready to help those who are in trouble, without any thought of yourself.”

“You are quite wrong,” squeaked Hiranya. “I am not so silly as you make out. I have no wish to be your friend. If you were hungry, you wouldn’t hesitate to gobble me up. I don’t care for that sort of affection.”

With that Hiranya whisked away to his hole, pausing at the entrance, when he knew the crow could not get at him, to cry, “You be off to your nest and leave me alone!”

The feelings of the crow were very much hurt at this speech, the more that he knew full well it was not exactly love for the mouse, which had led him to make his offer, but self-interest: for who could tell what difficulties he himself might some day be in, out of which the mouse might help him? Instead of obeying Hiranya, and going back to his nest, he hopped to the mouse’s hole, and putting his head on one side in what he thought was a very taking manner, he said:

“Pray do not misjudge me so. Never would I harm you! Even if I did not wish to have you for a friend, I should not dream of gobbling you up, as you say, however hungry I might be. Surely you are aware that I am a strict vegetarian, and never eat the flesh of other creatures. At least give me a trial. Let us share a meal together, and talk the matter over.”

Hiranya, on hearing the last remark of Laghupatin, hesitated, and in the end he agreed