“No,” said the lioness, “I had better not. It would not be wise. There is blood between their race and mine. They might remember this; and then my words would be in vain. It should be one from whom they have never had anything to fear.”
They discussed the matter for some time; and then it was resolved that the fox should be the emissary. He was at odds, it was true, from the old days, with the goose and the duck and the hen; but there was no one better at hand.
And so he sneaked off: none knew so well the shortest and most secret paths in the forest. He promised to bring back an answer as quickly as possible. The animals lay down to rest in the meadow and whispered together. In the midst of the circle lay the lioness, staring silently before her, with shame and wrath in her eyes.
3
When the fox reached Two-Legs’ house, he met Trust, who was going his night rounds to see if there were any foes about.
“Good evening, cousin,” said the fox, slyly. “Out so late?”
“I might say the same to you,” replied Trust. “I am keeping watch for my master. You’re hardly out on so lawful an errand.”
“I have no master, certainly,” said the fox. “And it’s not long ago since you were a free dog in the forest. You ought to become so again. Come down with me to the meadow. The other animals are gathered there. They will forgive you for entering Two-Legs’ service and look upon you as the good dog that you were, if you will open the door so that the captive animals may escape.”
“There are no captive animals here,” said the dog. “We are all well off and we wish for no change. If I am Two-Legs’ servant, I am also his friend. So run away back as fast as you can to those who sent you.”
