"True, so he will," said the Wolf. "Well, I agree."
So the Wolf and the Jackal went back to the Camel, and the Wolf said, raising his right forepaw to heaven—
"I swear by heaven that I heard this Camel promise to give his tongue to this Jackal."
Of course this was a lie, and they all knew it; but the Camel did not like to appear mean, and besides, they were two to one.
"Very well," said the Camel; "come and take it." The Camel opened his mouth wide. The Jackal put his head in the Camel's mouth, and as he did so, the Camel curled his tongue backward, so that the Jackal could not reach it.
The Jackal pulled his head out again, and said to the Wolf—
"My mouth is too small, you try now—you have a big gape."
Then the Wolf put his head in the Camel's mouth. The Camel curled his tongue back and back, and the Wolf pushed in his head further and further; at last all the Wolf's head was inside. Then the Camel snapped his jaws together upon the Wolf's neck.
"O Daddy Camel," said the Wolf, half throttled; "what is this?"
"This," said the Jackal, rolling up the whites of his eyes to the sky in a most pious fashion; "this is the result of telling a lie." The Camel said nothing at all, but simply throttled the Wolf to death, and the Jackal ran away.