"You there?" asked the Jackal.
"Yes, I'm here all right," answered the Fish.
"Just stop a minute," said the Jackal, "and I'll be back directly."
Away he ran, and the Fish crept inside the hole, and hid. The Jackal ran about gathering dry leaves, and with the leaves he made a little pile at the mouth of his hole. Then he went to a fire which some traveller had left smouldering, and seizing a brand, he brought it and set light to the leaves at the mouth of the cave. The fire soon burned up.
"Is that nice, dear Den?" asked the Jackal.
"Very nice, thank you," said the Fish, who thought she must go on pretending.
"I'll soon make you warm," said the Jackal, and he piled on more fuel. It began to get very hot.
"That's enough now," said the Fish.
"No, no, Den dear," said the cunning Jackal, laughing
to himself. More and more leaves he piled on the top
of the fire. One side of the Fish got so hot that she
turned the other. Then it got hotter and hotter, and
soon the Fish expired. When the fire went out, the
Jackal looked into the cave, and there was the Fish,
done on both sides crisp and brown. He sat
down on his haunches, and gobbled her
up in a trice, and he never had a
nicer dinner. That was the
end of the foolish and
ungrateful Fish.
