“You shake already,” said Lion, mockingly.
“Yes, I shake but to strike the better, my friend,” said Serpent, as he darted forward and fixed his fangs in the right eyebrow of Lion, and at the same moment its body glided round the neck of Lion, and became buried out of sight in the copious mane.
Like the pain of fire the deadly venom was felt quickly in the head and body. When it reached the heart, Lion fell down and lay still and dead.
“Well done,” cried Goat, as he danced around the pile of bananas. “Provisions for three moons have I, and this doughty roarer is of no more value than a dead goat.”
Goat and Serpent then vowed friendship for one another, after which Serpent said:
“Now follow me, and obey. I have a little work for you.”
“Work! What work, O Serpent?”
“It is light and agreeable. If you follow that path, you will find a village of mankind. You will there proclaim to the people what I have done, and show this carcase to them. In return for this they will make much of you, and you will find abundance of food in their gardens—tender leaves of manioc and peanut, mellow bananas, and plenty of rich greens daily. True, when you are fat and a feast is to be made, they will kill you and eat you; but, for all your kind, comfort, plenty, and warm, dry housing is more agreeable than the cold damp jungle, and destruction by the feral beasts.”
“Nay, neither the work nor the fate is grievous, and I thank you, O Serpent; but for you there can be no other home than the bush and the tuft of grass, and you will always be a dreaded enemy of all who come near your resting-place.”
Then they parted. The Goat went along the path, and came to the gardens of a village, where a woman was chopping fuel. Looking up she saw a creature with grand horns coming near to her, bleating. Her first impulse was to run away, but seeing, as it bleated, that it was a fodder-eating animal, with no means of offence, she plucked some manioc greens and coaxed it to her, upon which the Goat came and spoke to her.