“Friend Fox,” he said, “you seem perplexed. Tell me your trouble, and it may be that I can help you.”
“Friend Jackal, you are right,” replied the Fox. “I am perplexed. I have here a piece of meat which I am carrying to my hole, but I should like one of these fowls for my second course.”
“Take my advice,” responded the Jackal, “and let these hens alone. I have long had my eye upon them, but they are watched by a boy named Zirak, and you cannot possibly catch them without being seen. You should be more than content with that fine piece of meat which you are carrying home.” And the Jackal went on his way.
Nevertheless, the Fox could not make up his mind to give up the fowls. Finally he laid down his piece of meat, and crept cautiously into the yard. He was just nearing the tail-feathers of the plumpest fowl, when Zirak hurled a stick at his head. Fearing for his life, the Fox sprang over the fence and rushed back to the spot where he had left his piece of meat. But a few moments before, a Kite had passed that way, smelled the meat, and carried it to her nest.