“Granted,” replied the hawk, “what is it?”
“I only beg of you to spare my children, do not eat them when you have found them.”
“All right,” replied the hawk, “I shall certainly not touch them, but tell me how they look so that in case I meet them I may spare them.”
“O,” replied the crow, “mine are the most beautiful creatures in the world, they are more lovely than any other bird can boast of.”
“Very well, rest assured. Go in peace.” And they parted.
The crow, being quite satisfied with the hawk’s promise, began flying about the next day trying to find something with which to feed her children. The hawk the next morning went about her own business and tried to find some nice little young ones to eat. Flying about, she saw the young ones of the thrush, the blackbird, and of other beautiful birds, and she said to herself, “Surely these are the children of the crow; look how lovely and beautiful they are, I am not going to touch them.”
She went all day, without finding any little birds but these; and she said to herself:
“I must keep my word to my sister, I am not going to touch them.” And she went to bed hungry. The next day the same thing happened, and still the hawk kept her word and would not touch them.
On the third day she was so hungry that she could scarcely see out of her eyes. Roaming about, the hawk suddenly lighted upon the nest of the crow. Seeing the little, miserable, ugly things in the nest, the hawk at first would not touch them, although she never dreamt that these ugly things were the children of the crow, so much praised by her for their beauty, and thought they must belong to some hideous bird. But what is one to do when one is hungry? One eats what one gets and not finding anything better, she sat down and gobbled them up one by one, and then flew away.
Not long after the hawk had left, the crow came in, feeling sure this time to find her little ones unhurt; but how great was her dismay when she found the nest empty! First she thought the little birds had tried their wings and were flying about in the neighbourhood, and she went in search of them. Not finding them, she began to be a little more anxious, and hunting a little more closely, found on the ground near some rushes some tufts of feathers with little bones and blood. She knew at once that the hawk had again been there, feeding on her children.