The Hare obeyed, and ran as fast as she could. When she came to the spot where the Lynx had been, she looked round, but there was no one there, and she ran on. But the Lynx had found out all about the little Hare, and knew she was going across to the neck of land; and he had nothing to do but reach it first, and waylay her; which he did: and when the innocent creature came to the place, and had got almost home, the Lynx sprang out of the thicket and eat her up.
The original chant, omitting the narrative part as given above, runs in this fashion, word for word.
| Lynx. | Tah kau | (where ah!) |
| Tah hau | (where ah!) | |
| Wa bose | (little white one) | |
| Wa bose | (little white one) | |
| Ke te e zha | (are you going?) | |
| Hare. | Na kwa oushing | (to the point of land) |
| Ain dah nuk e aum baun | (in my native country) | |
| In de e zha | (I go.) | |
| Lynx. | Au neen | (what!) |
| Au neen | (what!) | |
| A nau be kaus o yun aig | (causes it,) | |
| Kish ke mun ing | (why like stripes of leather) | |
| Ish o tow ug a una, | (are your ears?) | |
| Hare. | Nish ish sha ug | (my uncles,) |
| O sha wun e nong | (when from the south) | |
| Ke e zha waud | (they came,) | |
| Ningeeaizh e goob un eeg | (they did fix me so.) | |
| Lynx. | Tah kau | (where ah!) |
| Tah kau | (where ah!) | |
| Wa bose | (little white one,) | |
| Wa bose | (little white one,) | |
| Ke de e zha | (are you going?) | |
| Au neen | (why?) | |
| Na naub o kos o yun | (look they so,) | |
| Kish ke mun a, | (like dry bits of leather,) | |
| I izh e zida una, | (your feet ha!) |
4. THE KITE AND THE EAGLE.
This is a specimen of Indian satire. The coward is boastful when there is no danger: pretension succeeds in the absence of real merit! A Kite was boasting how high he could fly, and ventured to speak disparagingly of the eagle, not knowing that the latter overheard him. He began to sing in a loud voice,
I upward fly I! I alone disdain the air Till I hang as by a hair Poised in the sky.
The Eagle answers disdainfully, looking down from a branch far above the Kite,
Who mounts the sky? Who is this, with babbling tongue As he had on the storm-cloud hung, Who flies so high?
The Kite in a shrinking, feeble voice,
The great Khakake I’ve sometimes thought he flew so high That he must see within the sky The dawn awake.