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.
THE GOOD HUNTER
NCE upon a time there was an Indian who was a famous hunter. But he did not hunt for fun; he took no pleasure in killing the little wild creatures, birds and beasts and fishes, and did so only when it was necessary for him to have food or skins for his clothing. He was a very kind and generous man, and loved all the wood-creatures dearly, often feeding them from his own larder, and protecting them from their enemies. So the animals and birds loved him as their best friend, and he was known as the Good Hunter.