The wolf said: ‘You eloquent beast with your handsome face, don’t ignore what I am like or forget how men fear me. You know that I attack strongholds and uproot vines. Do what I tell you and attend on me as a slave attends his master.’ ‘You ignorant fool,’ said the fox, ‘your attempt is futile and I wonder at your stupidity and the brass-faced effrontery with which you tell me to serve you and to stand before you as though I were a slave you had bought with your wealth. You will see what will happen to you; your head will be smashed with stones and your treacherous teeth broken.’ The fox then stood on top of a hill overlooking the vineyard and shouted to its owners, going on until he had awoken them. Seeing him, they ran towards him; he waited until they were close by and, leading them to the pit with the wolf in it, he then ran off. The people looked at the pit, saw the wolf in it and started pelting him with heavy stones. They continued to strike him with stones and bits of wood, as well as thrusting at him with spearheads, until they had killed him.
They then went off and the fox came back. Standing over the place where the wolf had been killed and seeing his corpse, he shook his head in delight, reciting these lines:
Time has destroyed the wolf, whose soul has been carried off,
Far, far away from where his heart’s blood was spilled.
How often, wolf, did you try to destroy me?
But now disasters have overtaken you, bringing destruction.
You fell into a pit where all who fall
Are carried off by the storm winds of death.
He then stayed in the vineyard alone and at his ease, fearing no harm, until he died. So ends the story of the fox and the wolf.
A story is told of a mouse and a weasel that once lived in the house of a poor farmer. One of the farmer’s friends fell ill and the doctor prescribed for him husked sesame seeds. He asked a companion of his for sesame as a cure for his sickness and he then gave a quantity of it to the poor farmer so that he might husk this for him. The farmer brought the sesame to his wife to prepare and she, for her part, soaked it, spread it out, husked it and prepared it. When the weasel saw the sesame, she went up to it and spent the whole day carrying off seeds to her hole, until she had removed most of what was there. The farmer’s wife came back and saw, to her astonishment, that there was clearly less sesame than there had been. To find out why, she sat watching to see who would come there, and the weasel, on her way back to remove more seeds, as she had been doing, saw the farmer’s wife sitting there and realized that she was on the lookout. She said to herself: ‘What I have done may lead to evil consequences, for I’m afraid that this woman is lying in wait for me. Whoever does not think of the consequences of what he does will find out that Time is no friend to him. I must do something good to show my innocence and wipe away all the evil that I have done.’ So she started moving the sesame that was in her hole, bringing it out and taking it to put with the rest. When the woman found her doing this, she said to herself: ‘It could not have been the weasel that was responsible for this. She is taking the seeds from the hole of whoever stole them and putting them back with the rest. She has done us a favour here and the reward of one who does a favour is to have a favour done to him. As it is not the weasel who has stolen the sesame, I shall go on watching until the thief falls into the trap and I find out who he is.’
The weasel, realizing what the woman was thinking, went off to the mouse. ‘Sister,’ she said, ‘there is no good in anyone who does not respect his duty to his neighbour, maintaining friendship.’ ‘Yes, my friend,’ said the mouse, ‘and I am glad to have you as a neighbour, but why do you say this?’ The weasel went on: ‘The master of the house has brought sesame; he and his family have had their fill, and having no more need of it, they have left much of it uneaten. Every living creature has taken a share of it and were you to take yours, you would have a better right to it than the others.’ The mouse was pleased with this; she squeaked, danced, waggled her ears and her tail and, beguiled by her greed for the sesame, she got up straight away and left her hole. She saw the sesame dried, husked and gleaming white, with the farmer’s wife sitting and watching over it. The woman had armed herself with a cudgel and the mouse, taking no thought for the consequences, fell on it unrestrainedly, scattering it to and fro and starting to eat it. The woman hit her with the cudgel, splitting her skull. Greed was the cause of her death, and the fact that she ignored the consequences of what she had done.
‘This is a pleasant story, Shahrazad,’ said the king. ‘Have you any tales about the beauty of friendship and how its preservation in difficult circumstances has led to a rescue from death?’ ‘Yes,’ she replied, AND SHE WENT ON:
I have heard that once a crow and a cat lived together as brothers. While they were together under a tree, suddenly they saw a panther coming towards them, and before they knew it, it was close at hand. The crow flew up to the top of the tree, but the cat stayed where it was, not knowing what to do. He called to the crow: ‘My friend, is there anything you can do to save me? I hope you can.’ The crow replied: ‘In cases of need, when disaster strikes, it is one’s brother who must be asked to find a way out. How well has the poet expressed it:
The true friend is one who goes with you,
And who hurts himself in order to help you.
When you are shattered by the blows of fate,
It is your friend who breaks himself in order to restore you.’
Near the tree were some herdsmen with dogs. The crow went and struck at the surface of the earth with his wing, cawing and screeching. He then went up to the men and struck one of the dogs in the face with his wing. Then he rose a little into the air and the dogs followed after him. Looking up, a herdsman saw a bird flying close to the ground and then falling to earth. He followed the crow, who only flew far enough ahead to avoid the dogs while still encouraging them to give chase. He then rose slightly higher, still pursued by the dogs, until he came to the tree beneath which was the panther. When the dogs saw it, they leapt at it and it turned in flight, giving up all thoughts of eating the cat. So the cat escaped because of the stratagem of its friend, the crow. This story, O king, shows that pure brotherly love can provide safety and deliverance from deadly peril.
A story is told about a fox that once lived in a den on a mountain. Every time a cub of his began to gain strength, he was driven by hunger to eat it. If he had not done this and had allowed the cub to live, staying with it and guarding it, he himself would have starved to death, but it hurt him to do what he did. A crow used to come to the peak of the mountain and the fox said to himself: ‘I would like to make friends with this crow and take him as a companion in my loneliness and as a helper in my search for food, since he can do things that I cannot.’ So he approached the crow, going near enough for him to hear what he said. He then greeted him, saying: ‘My friend, Muslim neighbours share two rights – the right of neighbourhood and the right of Islam. Know that you are my neighbour and you have a claim on me which I must satisfy, especially since this relationship of ours has gone on for so long. The affection for you that is lodged in my heart prompts me to treat you with kindness and leads me to seek to have you as a brother. What do you have to say?’ The crow told the fox: ‘The best things said are the most truthful. It may be that what you say with your tongue is not in your heart. I am afraid lest your talk of brotherhood may be on the surface, while concealed in your heart is enmity. You eat and I am eaten and so we cannot join together in the union of affection. What has led you to look for something that you cannot get and to want what can never be? You are a wild beast and I am a bird, and there can be no true brotherhood between us.’
The fox said: ‘He who knows where great things are to be found can make a proper choice from among them, and so he may be able to find what will help his brothers. I want to be near you and choose friendship with you so that we can help each other, and our affection may lead to success. I know a number of stories about the beauty of friendship, and if you like, I shall tell them to y
ou.’ ‘You have my permission to produce them,’ said the crow. ‘Tell me them, so that I can listen, take heed and discover their meaning.’ ‘Listen then, my companion,’ said the fox, ‘to a story told of a flea and a mouse which illustrates the point I made to you.’ ‘What was that?’ asked the crow, AND THE FOX REPLIED:
It is said that a mouse once lived in the house of a rich and important merchant. One night a flea went for shelter to that merchant’s bed, where he found a soft body. As he was thirsty, he drank from the man’s blood. The merchant, in pain, woke from his sleep, sat up and called to his maids and a number of his servants. They hurried up to him and set to work looking for the flea who, in turn, realizing what was happening, fled away. He came across the mouse’s hole and went in, but when the mouse saw him, she asked: ‘What has made you come to me, when you are not of the same nature or the same species as I, and you cannot be sure that I will not treat you roughly, attack you or harm you?’ The flea said to her: ‘I have fled into your house, escaping certain death, in order to seek refuge with you. There is nothing that I covet here; you will not have to leave because of any harm that I might do you and I hope to be able to reward you with all kinds of benefits for the service that you are doing me. You will be thankful when you discover what these words of mine will bring about.’ When the mouse heard what the flea had to say…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the hundred and fifty-first night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that when the mouse heard what the flea had to say she said: ‘If things are as you say, then you can rest here in peace. The rain of security will fall on you; you will only experience what will bring you joy and nothing will happen to you that will not also happen to me. I offer you my friendship. Feel no regret for the opportunity you have lost to suck the merchant’s blood and don’t be sorry for the nourishment that you used to get from him. Content yourself with what you can find to live on, as that will be safer for you. The following lines of poetry that I once heard were written by a preacher, who said:
I have followed the path of contentment and solitude,
And passed my time according to circumstance,
With a crust of bread and water to drink,
Coarse salt and shabby clothes.
If God grants me prosperity, well and good;
If not, I am content with what He gives.’
When the flea heard what the mouse had to say, he said: ‘Sister, I have listened to your advice; I shall do what you tell me, as I cannot disobey you, and I shall follow this virtuous course until the end of my days.’ ‘Good intentions are enough for true friendship,’ replied the mouse. The two became firm friends and after that the flea would go to the merchant’s bed at night but would only take enough blood for his needs, while by day he would shelter in the mouse’s hole.
It happened that one night the merchant brought home a large number of dinars. He began to turn them over and over and, hearing the sound, the mouse put her head out of her hole and started to gaze at the dinars, until the merchant put them under a pillow and fell asleep. The mouse then said to the flea: ‘Don’t you see the chance that we have been given and what an enormous bit of luck this is? Can you think of a plan to allow us to get as many of these as we want?’ ‘It’s no use trying to get hold of something unless you can do it,’ said the flea. ‘If you’re not strong enough, then weakness will lead you into danger and, even if you use all your cunning, you will not get what you want, like the sparrow that picks up the grain but falls into the trapper’s net and is caught. You don’t have the strength to take the dinars and carry them out of the house, and neither have I. I couldn’t even lift a single one of them. So do what you want about them yourself.’
The mouse said: ‘I have made seventy ways out of this hole of mine from which I can leave if I want and I have prepared a safe place for treasures. If you can get the merchant out of the room by some means, then I’m sure that I can succeed if fate helps me.’ ‘I’ll undertake to get him out,’ said the flea, and he then went to the merchant’s bed and gave him a fearful bite, such as he had never experienced before. The flea then took refuge in a place of safety and, although the merchant woke up and looked for him, he didn’t find the flea and so went back to sleep on his other side. The flea then bit him even more savagely, and in his agitation the merchant left his bedroom and went out to a bench by the house door, where he slept without waking until morning. The mouse then set about moving the dinars until there were none left, and in the morning the merchant was left to suspect everyone around him.
*
The fox then said to the crow: ‘You must know, O far-sighted, intelligent and experienced crow, that I have only told you this story so that you may get the reward for your kindness to me just as the mouse was rewarded for her kindness to the flea. You can see how he repaid her and gave her the most excellent of rewards.’ The crow replied: ‘The doer of good has the choice of doing good or not, as he wants, but it is not obligatory to do good to someone who tries to attach himself to you by cutting you off from others. This is what will happen to me if I befriend you, who are my enemy. You are a wily schemer, fox; creatures of your kind cannot be counted on to keep their word and no one can rely on those who are not to be trusted to do that. I heard recently that you betrayed a companion of yours, the wolf, and that you schemed against him until, thanks to your treacherous wiles, you brought about his death. You did this in spite of the fact that he was of the same species as you and you had been his companion for a long time. You did not spare him, so how can I trust in your sincerity? If this is how you act with a friend of your own race, what will you do with an enemy of a different species? Your position in regard to me is like that of the falcon with the birds of prey.’ ‘How was that?’ asked the fox. THE CROW REPLIED:
The falcon was a headstrong tyrant…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the hundred and fifty-second night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that THE CROW REPLIED:
The falcon was a headstrong tyrant in the days of his youth, spreading fear among the birds and beasts of prey. None were safe from his evil-doing and there were many instances of his injustice and tyranny, it being his habit to harm all other birds. With the passing of the years, his powers weakened and his strength diminished. He grew hungry and the loss of his strength meant that he had to exert himself more. He decided to go to where the birds met, in order to eat what they left over. After having relied on strength and power, he now got his food by trickery.
‘This is like you, fox: you may not have strength, but you have not lost your powers of deceit. I have no doubt that when you ask to become my companion, this is a trick on your part to get food. I am not one to put out my hand to clasp yours. God has given me strength in my wings, caution in my soul and clear sight. I know that whoever tries to be like someone stronger than himself finds himself in difficulties and may be destroyed. I am afraid that if you try to resemble someone stronger than yourself, what happened to the sparrow may happen to you.’ ‘What did happen to the sparrow?’ asked the fox. ‘By God, tell me the story.’ THE CROW SAID:
I have heard that a sparrow was flying over a field of sheep. He looked down and as he was there watching, a great eagle swooped down on one of the young lambs and, seizing it in his talons, flew off with it. When the sparrow saw this, he fluttered his wings and said proudly: ‘I can do the same kind of thing,’ trying to be like something greater than him. He flew off immediately and came down on a fat, woolly ram, whose coat was matted because he had been sleeping on urine and dung, as a result of which it had become sticky. When the sparrow settled on the ram’s back, he clapped his wings, but his feet stuck in the wool, and although he tried to fly off, he could not get free. While all this was going on, the shepherd had been watching, seeing first what had happened with the eagle and then
what had happened to the sparrow. He came up angrily to the sparrow, seized him and pulled out his wing feathers. He then tied a string round his legs and took him off and threw him to his children. ‘What is this?’ one of them asked. The shepherd replied: ‘This is one who tried to imitate a superior and so was destroyed.’
‘This is what you are like, fox, and I warn you against trying to be like one who is stronger than you, lest you perish. This is what I have to say to you, so go off in peace.’ Despairing of winning the friendship of the crow, the fox went back, groaning in sorrow and gnashing his teeth in regret. When the crow heard the sound of his weeping and groaning and saw his distress and sorrow, he asked what had come over him to make him gnash his teeth. ‘It is because I see that you are a greater cheat than I am,’ said the fox, and he then ran off, going back to his earth. This, O king, is the story of these two.
‘How excellent and pleasant are these stories, Shahrazad,’ said the king. ‘Have you any other edifying tales like them?’ SHE SAID:
It is told that a hedgehog made his home by the side of a palm tree which was the haunt of a ringdove and his mate who nested there and enjoyed an easy life. The hedgehog said to himself: ‘The ringdove and his mate eat the fruits of this palm tree, but I can find no way to do that and so I shall have to trick them.’ He then dug out a hole for himself at the foot of the tree where he and his mate went to live. Beside it he made a chapel for prayer, where he went by himself, pretending to be a devout ascetic, who had abandoned earthly things. When the ringdove saw him at his devotions, he felt pity for him because of his extreme asceticism and he asked how many years he had spent like this. ‘Thirty years,’ replied the hedgehog. ‘What do you eat?’ asked the dove. ‘Whatever falls from the tree.’ ‘What do you wear?’ ‘Spikes, whose roughness is of use to me.’ ‘And how did you choose this place of yours rather than somewhere else?’ ‘I chose it at random,’ said the hedgehog, ‘in order to guide those who are astray and to teach the ignorant.’ ‘I didn’t think that you were like this,’ said the dove, ‘but I now feel a longing for your kind of life.’ The hedgehog replied: ‘I’m afraid that what you say is the opposite of what you do. You are like the farmer who at harvest time neglects to sow again, saying: “I am afraid that the days may not bring me what I want, and I shall have begun by wasting my money thanks to sowing too soon.” Then, when harvest time comes round again and he sees people at work reaping, he regrets the opportunity that he lost by holding back and he dies of grief and sorrow.’
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1 Page 85