“The lion is slain!” cried the sparrow, from door to door. “Two-Legs has murdered the king of the forest. His skin is hanging on a pole outside the house: I saw it myself.”
Then all crowded up and saw it. From the edge of the forest, full of fear they peeped at Two-Legs’ house and the birds stared down from the sky.
“And now all is over,” said the stag.
And so it was.
4
But, in the course of that day, the orang-outang came to Two-Legs, who was sitting outside the house:
“Good-day, cousin,” said the orang-outang.
Two-Legs looked at him without answering.
“Ah, you may have heard,” said the orang-outang, “that I have spoken ill of you. I will not deny that I have been a little careless in my talk. But you yourself know, when one meets with poor relations, one is afraid of hangers-on. One has children of one’s own and it is not easy to make both ends meet in these hard times. Besides, you once caught me a blow with your stick; so we can cry quits.”