"It was foolish ever to have come," grumbled the first.
"It was your fault," snapped the second.
"I did not say it wasn't, did I?" retorted the other, who, female-like, had the last word.
Then they went on in silence for awhile. They both felt cross and hungry; and when you are hungry and a dog bananas are not very satisfying, and they were the only things near.
Presently they came to where a small stream flowed; the water was quite warm, but they drank it and were grateful.
Then they rested, going on again just when the last rays of the sun still showed above the dusky palm tops.
They hoped to reach a village before nightfall; but they were doomed to be disappointed. There was not a sign of any habitation near when the darkness began to close around. The stars twinkled brightly in a clear violet sky of wondrous brilliancy. Close beside them was a tiger's den—empty. They crept in and sank down, too weary to go further.
There were signs of its having been recently occupied, but they did not heed them; and gnawed ravenously at some half-eaten bones that were strewed about.
Then they curled themselves up in one corner and slept. After a few hours the lady dog woke up and looked about her. Through the opening she saw the moonlight falling on the country outside; everything was strangely still, save for the distant cry of the jackal, and the healthy snoring of her spouse, who reposed in the corner. She felt alarmed, she could not exactly have told why, and awakened her companion, who grumbled not a little at being thus rudely roused from his slumbers.
"Supposing," began his companion, not heeding his displeasure, "that the tiger was to return."