Just then the Deer saw him and called out, “Friend, please gnaw the strings and set me free.”
But Small-wit only walked around the snare, examining it carefully. “It certainly will hold,” said he to himself.
To the Deer he said, “These strings are very strong, and this is a fast day for me, so I cannot bite them. To-morrow I will do what I can for you.” With this he went away.
Very soon the Crow, who had been looking for his friend, came along, and seeing his sorry plight, asked him how this all happened.
The Deer replied that this came through disregarding the advice of a friend.
“Where is that rascally Jackal?” asked the Crow.
“He is waiting somewhere to taste my flesh,” answered the Deer.
With a deep sigh the Crow exclaimed, “You smooth-tongued, traitor Jackal, what an ill deed you have done!”
The Crow stayed through the night with his poor friend, trying to think of some way to free him, and at last he hit upon a plan which proved to be successful.
Early in the morning the master of the field, carrying a club in his hand, came to see if the snare had caught the Deer. Sharp-sense, as soon as he saw him approaching, said to his friend, “Look as though you were dead; stiffen out your legs and lie very still. I will make believe that I am pecking your eyes out. When I utter a loud croak you jump up quickly and run away as fast as you can.”