Once upon a time in a deep wood lived a Deer and a Crow, who were great friends and loved each other dearly. One day, as the Deer was roaming about alone, he met Small-Wit, the Jackal.

Small-Wit was hungry, and when he saw the fine fat Deer he said to himself: “Oho! if only I could have this fat Deer for my supper!” So he went up to the Deer, hanging his head and looking very sad.

“Who are you, Friend?” asked the Deer, “and why do you look so sad?”

“My name is Small-Wit,” said the Jackal; “and I am sad because I have not a friend in the world. Ah! if I could win your friendship how happy I should be!”

“Very well,” said the Deer, who was very good-natured. “Come with me, and we will be friends.”

He led the way to his home, and the Jackal followed him. As they drew near, Sharp-Sense, the Crow, called from the tree where he was perching: “Who is this number two, Friend Deer?”

“It is Small-Wit, the Jackal,” said the Deer. “He is lonely, and wishes to be our friend.”

said the Crow.

“Nay!” said the Deer. “I like this rhyme better:

“Very good,” said Sharp-Sense: “as you will.”

Next morning they went off hunting, and the Jackal said to the Deer: “I know a field of sweet corn, and I will take you there.”

So the Deer followed Small-Wit, and, sure enough, they came to a field of sweet young corn.

“You are a friend indeed!” cried the Deer, and he feasted till suddenly he fell into a snare which the farmer had laid.

“Alas!” cried the Deer, “Friend Small-Wit, here am I caught by the feet, and cannot move. Come, I pray you, and gnaw these cords with your sharp teeth and set me free!”

The Jackal came and looked at the snare. “That will hold you fast enough,” he said. “To-day is a fast day, but to-morrow I will have a fine feast on your fat carcass, my foolish friend.” And off he went.

Presently came along Sharp-Sense, the Crow, who had been looking for his friend. “Alas!” he cried, “how did this happen, Friend Deer?”

“Through not minding what you said,” replied the Deer.

“Well,” said the Crow, “we must do what we can. Here comes the farmer. Do you lie still and pretend to be dead until I croak: then spring up and be off.”

The farmer came along and saw our friend lying perfectly still. “Aha!” he cried, “this fellow will eat no more of my corn.”

He stooped down and untied the cords of the snare, meaning to carry off the dead Deer; but at that moment the Crow gave a loud “Caw!” Up sprang the Deer and in a moment was safe in the forest. The farmer flung a club after him; it hit Small-Wit, the Jackal, who was lurking near by hoping to have a share of the spoil, and killed him; and the two friends went home happy.