So they disputed and they disputed whether the case was to be decided by the claims of gratitude or the rights of self-preservation, till they did not know what to do.
"I tell you what I'll do," said the snake, "I'll let the first passer-by decide which is right."
"But I can't let my life depend upon the word of the first comer."
"Well, we'll ask the first two that pass by."
"Perhaps they won't agree," said the man; "what are we to do then? We shall be as badly off as we are now."
"Ah, well," said the snake, "let it be the first three. In all law courts it takes three judges to make a session. We'll follow the majority of votes."
So they waited till at last there came along an old, old horse. And they put the case to him, whether gratitude should ward off death.
"I don't see why it should," said the horse. "Here have I been slaving for my master for the last fifteen years, till I am thoroughly worn out, and only this morning I heard him say, 'Roger'—that's my name—'is no use to me any longer; I shall have to send him to the knacker's and get a few pence for his hide and his hoofs.' There's gratitude for you."
So the horse's vote was in favour of the snake. And they waited till at last an old hound passed by limping on three legs, half blind with scarcely any teeth. So they put the case to him.
"Look at me," said he; "I have slaved for my master for ten years, and this very day he has kicked me out of his house because I am no use to him any longer, and he grudged me a few bones to eat. So far as I can see nobody acts from gratitude."