“The case is this,” replied the Musk Deer, “a short while ago I found this Tiger shut up in a Woodcutter’s hut in the forest, unable to get out. He called out to me asking me to open the door of the hut, promising me, if I did so, that he would let me go free. So I opened the door and let him out. No sooner was he released than he seized upon me and threatened to kill and eat me; and when I reproached him of breaking his faith, he said he did not believe that there was such a thing as good faith in the world. So we made a bargain that we would ask the first three living things we met whether or no there is such a thing as good faith in this world. If they say there is not, then the Tiger is to kill and eat me; but if they say that there is such a thing, then I am to go free. Will you please give us an opinion as to whether such a thing as good faith exists or not.”
On hearing this story the great Tree moved its branches slowly in the breeze and replied as follows:
“I am much interested in your story, Sister Deer, and would gladly help you if I could; but I am bound to answer you honestly in accordance with my own experience of life. Now consider my own case. I grow here by the roadside and spread my branches over the dusty highway ready to give shelter to man and beast in their shade. Travellers passing constantly up and down the road avail themselves of this cool retreat, and they come themselves and they bring their poor beasts of burden to rest in my shadow. And then [[15]]what happens? Are they grateful to me for the comfort which I afford them? Does my example inspire them with any consideration for others? Far from it. When they have rested and refreshed themselves enough, they proceed on their way, and not only do they not thank me for my hospitality, but they break off my tender branches and use them as whips, further to goad and distress their weary animals. Can such conduct as that be called good faith? No, I am bound to say that my experience of life leads me to believe that there is no such thing as good faith in this world.”
The poor Musk Deer was much cast down on hearing these words, and she and the Tiger moved on together till, a little farther along the road, they caught sight of a Cow Buffalo and her Calf grazing quietly in a field of succulent grass. They noticed that the old Cow contented herself with the driest and smallest patches of grass, whilst showing her Calf where to find the richest and most luxuriant pasture, and that she willingly deprived herself of any comfort in order to afford pleasure to the youngster. The Tiger and the Deer approached the old Cow, and the Deer, addressing her, said:
“Good-morning, Aunt Buffalo! This Tiger and I have a small matter which we wish to refer to you for an opinion.”
The Buffalo gazed at them with her big eyes, and after ruminating for a while she replied slowly:
“Say on, Sister Deer, I am ready to give you my opinion for what it is worth.” [[16]]
“Well,” said the Deer, “this Tiger was shut up in a hut in the forest, and being unable to open the door, he was in danger of starving to death. I happened to pass by, and he called to me, asking me to let him out, promising that if I did so he would spare my life. So I opened the door and released him. But no sooner was he free than he seized upon me and said that he would kill and eat me; and when I reproached him with his bad faith, he replied that he did not believe that such a thing as good faith existed. So we made a bargain that we would ask the first three living things we met whether or no they believed that there is such a thing as good faith. If they say there is not, then the Tiger is to eat me; but if they say that there is such a thing, I am to go free. Now, will you please give us your opinion on the matter.”
On hearing this statement the old Buffalo continued to chew the cud for some minutes, and then replied gravely:
“I would gladly help you in the matter, Sister Deer, if I could; but I must regard it from the point of view of my own experience in life. I am considering the case of myself and my Calf. While the Calf is young and tender, I do all in my power to nourish and care for it. I first give it my milk, and later on, as you see, I encourage it to browse upon the best of the herbage, whilst I gladly stint myself in order that it may have plenty of the best of everything. But what happens later on, when the Calf grows strong and lusty? Does it remember its old mother with gratitude, [[17]]and fend for her in her old age? Far from it. As soon as it is big enough it will push me away from the places where I am grazing and take the best for itself, and will drive me away altogether from the pastures if it can. Can that be called keeping faith with its mother? No; my experience makes me believe that there is no such thing as good faith in this world.”