One dark night Master Owl left his hollow tree and went prowling about
the world as usual upon his hopeless hunt for the Princess's betel-nut.
As soon as he was out of hearing a long, lean, hungry Rat crept to the
house and stole the dainties which the lonely old bachelor had stored
away for the morrow's dinner. The thief dragged them away to his own
hole and had a splendid feast with his wife and little ones. But the Owl
returned sooner than the Rat had expected, and by the crumbs which he
had dropped upon the way tracked him to the hole.
"Come out, thief!" cried the Owl, "or I will surely kill you. Come out
and return to me my morrow's dinner." The Rat trembled with fear at
these threatening words.
"Alas!" he squeaked, "I cannot do that, for already the dinner is eaten.
My wife and hungry little ones have eaten it. Pity us, for we were
starving!"
"Bah!" screamed the Owl, "I care little for that. It is for my dinner
alone that I care. Since you have eaten it you shall certainly die," and
he began to scratch fiercely at the mouth of the hole. The Rat trembled
more than ever. But suddenly he had an idea which made his whiskers
twitch.
"Hold!" he cried. "Dear, good Master Owl, permit me to live and I will
give you something which is worth many dinners, something that
men-creatures value very highly, and which with great labor and pain I
brought away from one of their dens."
"Umph!" grumbled the Owl. "Let us see what it is."
The Rat crawled timidly out of his hole with the peace-offering; and
what do you think it was? Why, a gimlet! Just a plain, ordinary,
well-sharpened gimlet for boring holes.
"Hoo!" cried the Owl. "I don't think much of _that_. What is it good
for?" Now the Rat had not the faintest idea as to what the gimlet really
was, but he had another idea instead.
"That? Why--that--oh, _that_! That is a very valuable thing. It is able
to give you the keenest delight. I will show you how it works. But you
must do just as I say, or it will be of no use."
"Hoo!" cried the Owl. "Continue with the directions."
"Well, first you must stick the thing point upwards in the ground at the
foot of this tree."
"Very good," said the Owl, doing as was suggested, and waiting
expectantly for the next move.
"Now you must mount to the top of the tree and slide down the trunk,"
said the Rat solemnly. Old Master Owl was certainly very far from wise
that night, for he obeyed the Rat's word without a suspicion. He flew to
the top of the tree, and then, sitting back and giving a warning cry of
"Hoo-hoo!" coasted down the trunk with the speed of lightning. But
midway down he struck a knot in the tree and rolled heels over head. And
when he reached the ground of course he landed fast upon the sharp point
of the gimlet, just as the Rat had planned.
With bloody head, and hooting with pain, the Owl started off in pursuit
of the Rat, resolved this time to kill him without fail. The Rat was
nimble, and his fear added to his speed, but at last the Owl caught him.
Ruffled and ferocious, the great bird was about to tear him in pieces,
when the Rat once more begged his life.
"It was only a joke," he cried. "Only a silly joke. Spare me this once,
dear Master Owl, and I will give you something that you really need.
Look at your bleeding head. You cannot go about the world with that
exposed. Spare my life, and I will give you a lovely cap of tufted
feathers to hide the bite of the wicked sharp-thing-made-by-man. Pray,
let me go, dear Master Owl."
The Owl considered for a moment, and then decided to accept the bargain.
For he thought of Putri Balan, the Princess of the Moon, and knew that
he should lose his last chance to win her if she happened to see him
with this ridiculous wound in his head.
So the Rat gave him a nice cap of tufted feathers, which he wears to
this day; and the Owl let the thief go free. But after that there was a
coolness between them, as you may well imagine.