The tiny quail went forth to meet the solitary elephant, did homage to him with her wings, and uttered the second stanza:
I salute you, solitary elephant,
Forest-ranger, pasturing on mountain and on hill;
With my wings I do you homage.
I am weak: do not kill my little ones.
The solitary elephant, hearing her words, uttered the third stanza:
I will kill your little ones, tiny quail.
What can you do to me? You are a weakling.
Even a hundred thousand like you
Could I crush with my left foot.