Some time after, the fox wanted to put the cleverness of the quail again to the test, and said: “You have made me laugh, you have fed me, now make me weep.” The quail replied, “Why, this is the easiest task of all,” so she took the fox to the gate of the town and called out: “O ye dogs of the Bazaar, come ye as many as ye are, for a fox has come to the gate!” So all the dogs, hearing this good news, assembled to hunt the fox, which, seeing the multitude of its enemies, fled till he reached a high place. Turning round, he saw the dogs following, so he jumped down and broke his back. The fox therefore helplessly sat down and said to the approaching quail: “O sympathizing companion, see how my mouth has become filled with mud and blood, and how my back has been broken. This is my fate in this world; now, could you kindly clean my mouth from mud and blood, as my end is near?” The intention of the fox was, that he should take the opportunity of this artifice to swallow the quail in revenge of her being the cause of its death. The quail, in her unwise friendship, began to clean the fox’s mouth. The accursed fox caught her in his mouth; but the quail, which was intelligent and clever, said, “O beloved friend, your eating me is lawful, because I forgive you my blood, on condition that you pronounce my name, otherwise you will suffer an injury.” The base fox, although full of wiles, clouded by approaching death, fell into the trap, and as soon as he said “O quail,” his teeth separated, and the quail flew away from him and was safe, whilst the fox died.
II. Stories and Legends.
There is a story which seems to illustrate the fact that private hatred is often the cause of the injury that is ascribed to accident. A man slaughtered a goat, and kept it over-night in an outhouse. His enemy put a number of cats through the airhole, and when their noise awoke the master of the house he only found the bones of his goat. But he took their bones, and scattered them over the field of his enemy the same night; and the dogs came, smelling the bones, searched for them, and destroyed the wheat that was ripe for reaping. One blamed the cats, the other blamed the dogs; but both had the reward of their own actions.
Sulei was a man well known on the frontier of Chitrál for his eloquence. One day, as he was travelling, he met a man from Badakhshan, who asked him whether he knew Persian. Sulei said, “No.” “Then,” replied the Badakhshi, “you are lost” [nobody, worthless]. Sulei at once rejoined, “Do you know Khowár?” (the language of Chitrál). “No,” said the Badakhshi. “Then you too are lost,” wittily concluded Sulei (to show that personal worth or eloquence does not depend on knowing any particular language).
It is related that beyond Upper Chitrár there is a country called Shin or Rashan. It is very beautiful, and its plains are gardens, and its trees bear much fruit, and its chunars (plane trees) and willows make it a shaded land. Its earth is red, and its water is white and tasty. They say that in ancient times the river of that district for a time flowed with milk without the dashing (of the waves) of water.
Besir is a place near Ayin towards Kafiristan. The inhabitants were formerly savage Kafirs, but are now subjects of the Mehter (Prince) of Chitrár. They carry loads of wood, and do not neglect the work of the Mehter. They are numerous and peaceful, and in helplessness like fowls, but they are still Kafirs; though in consequence of their want of energy and courage they are called “Kalàsh.” The people of Ayin say that in ancient times five savages fled into the Shidi Mount and concealed themselves there.