Already he could feel the hot breath of the spotted leader burn his flanks and he knew his time had come. Never, no, never, would he be a fox with nine golden tails! He would merely die a cruel death and his one poor bushy tail would be carried away as a trophy, his body torn to pieces by savage beasts. As this sad picture rose up before him he made one last long leap for liberty, and then his trembling legs could carry him no further. Driven to bay, he snarled angrily, and backing up against the trunk of a great hollow tree, turned to fight his last battle.
Then a strange thing happened.
At that very moment a huge and horrible creature he knew at once must be the dragon rose between him and the maddened leopards. Its body was covered with shining silver scales that crackled like burning logs as it moved, its ears were big black wings that flapped like sails, its great claws had nails as long and sharp as knives, its double tongue was two red-hot flames, its glaring eyes seemed balls of fire and its long tail curled and writhed like a mighty snake.
“There has been a mistake,” the dragon breathed, and its words came out in smoke. “You were one hundred years old this morning, and as you have never in all your life had to run from a dog, you should have been given the chance to become a beautiful woman if you wished.”
“Give me the chance now,” panted the fox. “There is nothing I want so much as to be a woman, even an ugly one will do.”
When the Prince, who could not keep up with the chase, appeared on the scene, he found the leopards with their tails tucked between their legs and their heads hanging down. There was no fox anywhere, but the most beautiful girl he had ever seen stood before him. For a time Nio Kuro could only look at her, for he was dumb with astonishment. She blushed and drew her long black hair over her face until he could barely see the tip of her nose and her little red mouth. Then she knelt before him.
His attendants now came running up, for he had outstripped them all, and they too stopped speechless with their mouths open. The Prince did not heed them. He bent down over the mysterious maiden and so far forgot his manners that he took both her small hands in his and raised her to her feet, for he wanted to see her face again, and the more he looked at her the lovelier she seemed to him.
“Who are you, O fairest one?” he asked rapturously. “Who is your illustrious father and what is your honored name?” But she gazed about her in a puzzled way and shook her head.
“I do not know,” she answered.
The Prince frowned at her strange reply, for he could scarcely believe his ears, and he even pinched himself under his silken tunic to be sure he was not dreaming. But she was so pretty he could not be angry with her, and as he looked into her soft brown eyes his frown changed into a smile, and he said in a very gentle voice: