"Thank you, Mr. Alligator! Kind Mr. Alligator! You are EXCEEDINGLY
kind to show me where you are! I will have dinner elsewhere." And he
ran away like the wind.
The old Alligator foamed at the mouth, he was so angry, but the little
Jackal was gone.
For two whole weeks the little Jackal kept away from the river. Then,
one day he got a feeling inside him that nothing but crabs could
satisfy; he felt that he must have at least one crab. Very cautiously,
he went down to the river and looked all around. He saw no sign of the
old Alligator. Still, he did not mean to take any chances. So he
stood quite still and began to talk to himself,--it was a little way he
had. He said,--
"When I don't see any little crabs on the shore, or sticking up out of
the water, I usually see them blowing bubbles from under the water; the
little bubbles go PUFF, PUFF, PUFF, and then they go POP, POP, POP, and
they show me where the little juicy crabs are, so I can put my paw in
and catch them. I wonder if I shall see any little bubbles to-day?"
The old Alligator, lying low in the mud and weeds, heard this, and he
thought, "Pooh! THAT'S easy enough; I'll just blow some little
crab-bubbles, and then he will put his paw in where I can get it."
So he blew, and he blew, a mighty blast, and the bubbles rose in a
perfect whirlpool, fizzing and swirling.
The little Jackal didn't have to be told who was underneath those
bubbles: he took one quick look, and off he ran. But as he went, he
sang,--
"Thank you, Mr. Alligator! Kind Mr. Alligator! You are the kindest
Alligator in the world, to show me where you are, so nicely! I'll
breakfast at another part of the river."
The old Alligator was so furious that he crawled up on the bank and
went after the little Jackal; but, dear, dear, he couldn't catch the
little Jackal; he ran far too fast.
After this, the little Jackal did not like to risk going near the
water, so he ate no more crabs. But he found a garden of wild figs,
which were so good that he went there every day, and ate them instead
of shell-fish.
Now the old Alligator found this out, and he made up his mind to have
the little Jackal for supper, or to die trying. So he crept, and
crawled, and dragged himself over the ground to the garden of wild
figs. There he made a huge pile of figs under the biggest of the wild
fig trees, and hid himself in the pile.
After a while the little Jackal came dancing into the garden, very
happy and care-free,--BUT looking all around. He saw the huge pile of
figs under the big fig tree.
"H-m," he thought, "that looks singularly like my friend, the
Alligator. I'll investigate a bit."
He stood quite still and began to talk to himself,--it was a little way
he had. He said,--
"The little figs I like best are the fat, ripe, juicy ones that drop
off when the breeze blows; and then the wind blows them about on the
ground, this way and that; the great heap of figs over there is so
still that I think they must be all bad figs."