Mpoko was very proud to be able to tell his sister that he had seen the leopard killed, and that his dog had been in the very thick of the fight. Moreover, he was sure that when he flung his own spear at the leopard it had gone through the skin somewhere, even if he could not point out the exact place.
“Mfwa! Mfwa!” said the baby, with his fat fists waving at the dog, and all the dogs strutted about, very proud of their night’s work.
“I wonder why dogs hate a leopard so,” said Nkunda, as the excitement quieted down.
“My dog belongs to me, and he knows the leopard is my enemy,” said Mpoko.
“Cats and dogs hate each other too, and the cat is not my enemy,” said Nkunda, trying to coax her pet cat down from the branch of a tree where she crouched, hissing at the dogs.
“Cats and dogs always hate each other,” said Mpoko, and he seemed to think that that was reason enough.
“There is a good reason why the dog and the leopard do not like each other,” said the Alo Man. Then he told the story of the Leopard and the Dog.
I often tell of the time when all the animals lived in a country by themselves, and the mother of leopards had two fine young cubs in her cave in the forest. As they grew older, she knew she must go out to find food for them, and she was afraid that if she left them alone, they would be stolen from her.