“How have you come here?” she cried. “Do you not know that this city belongs to a terrible snake with three heads, and that he eats every living thing? He has eaten all the people of the city except myself and he only left me alive that I might cook his meals and sweep his house. If he finds you here he will surely kill you.”
“I am too tired to go farther,” said the gazelle, “and I am so small that I can easily hide in a corner where the snake will not find me. Do but let me in to rest for a while. The snake need never know it.”
For a time the old woman refused but the gazelle talked so sweetly that after a time she consented and allowed the little animal to slip through the crack of the door and into the house.
When it was inside it began to look about it. “This place would just do for my master if I could but get rid of the snake,” it thought. Presently it saw a bright sword that hung on the wall. “What sword is that?” it asked of the old woman.
“It belongs to the snake,” she answered, “and it is so sharp that it will cut anything at one stroke.”
“That is the sword for me,” said the gazelle, and it took it down from the wall in spite of all the old woman could say.
And now a great rushing noise was heard outside, and the old woman began to quake and tremble. “That is the snake,” she cried, “and when he finds you here he will surely kill us both.”
“Do not be afraid,” said the gazelle. “I will tell you what to say and do, and who knows but what we may rid ourselves of him for good and all.”
Now the snake was at the door and it began to sniff about. “What is this I smell?” it cried. “Some living thing has entered the city.”
“Nonsense,” answered the old woman. “A bird flying over the house dropped a piece of meat down the chimney, and I am cooking it for your dinner.”