"You will not be sorry for this," said the Monkey, by way of apology. "I know how to be grateful for a service, and I know how to cherish a benefactor. To prove to you that I am in earnest, I will give you a piece of advice. Do not rescue the man whose voice you heard in the pitfall. He is a knave, and he will soon cause you to repent of your generosity. I live at the foot of the mountain yonder, where I hope to meet you some day and be of service to you. Farewell!"
The traveller was not much impressed with the words of the Monkey, but he allowed the creature to go its way, and threw the rope again into the pitfall in the hope of rescuing his fellow-man, whose voice he had heard.
In a moment he felt a considerable weight on the rope, and he thought that he was now rescuing the man, but, to his utter surprise, a terrible Lion came climbing up. His mane was shaggy, his teeth were white and cruel, and his claws were long and crooked. It seemed to the traveller that he would be compelled to drop this terrible creature back into the pitfall, but the Lion's voice reassured him.
"Do not be afraid," said the Lion. "You have won a protector whose services are not to be disdained. You have given me my life to-day and perhaps I may be able to save yours. Your fellow-man, who is still in the pitfall, will never be able to be of such service to you."
The traveller thereupon redoubled his efforts and drew the lion to the top.
"Friend," said the Lion, "my den is in this forest, opposite the mountain. Come and see me, and you will always be welcome."
There still remained two prisoners to deliver, and the rope was thrown back in the pit. The Serpent wound himself around it, and was drawn up.
"Generous friend," cried the Serpent, "I want to give you a piece of advice, and as advice is considered to be cheap, I have no idea that you will follow it. Serpents are considered to be wise. I have left in the bottom of this pitfall the most outrageous impostor the world has ever seen. Leave him to his fate if you do not wish to regret your kindness. You seem to be too kind, but on the faith of a serpent I will deliver you out of the first difficulty into which your good heart gets you. My house is all along the walls of the neighboring city."
But in spite of all this advice the traveller was too generous to permit his fellow-man to die in the pitfall, and for the fourth time he dropped the rope. The Vizier seized it and was saved. It is impossible to describe the joy of the Vizier at this turn of affairs. His expressions of gratitude were effusive. He embraced his deliverer and called him his saviour. He wanted to relate his history to the traveller, and, in doing so began to deceive his benefactor. He spoke only of the injustice of the King, and his discourse seemed to be so full of truth that the traveller was grateful that it had fallen to his lot to rescue so admirable a person.
"I live in the adjoining village," said the deposed Vizier, "and I offer you a home there. You shall be made welcome."