CHAPTER III


The mouse did not at once return to his hole when the birds were gone,
but went for a little stroll, which brought him to the ground still
strewn with rice, which he began to eat with great relish. "It's an
ill wind," he said to himself, "which brings nobody any good. There's
many a good meal for my whole family here."

Presently he was joined by the old crow, who had flown down from his
perch unnoticed by Hiranya, and now addressed him in his croaky voice:

"Hiranya," he said, "for that I know is your name, I am called
Laghupatin and I would gladly have you for a friend. I have seen all
that you did for the pigeons, and have come to the conclusion that you
are a mouse of great wisdom, ready to help those who are in trouble,
without any thought of yourself."

"You are quite wrong," squeaked Hiranya. "I am not so silly as you make
out. I have no wish to be your friend. If you were hungry, you wouldn't
hesitate to gobble me up. I don't care for that sort of affection."

With that Hiranya whisked away to his hole, pausing at the entrance,
when he knew the crow could not get at him, to cry, "You be off to
your nest and leave me alone!"

The feelings of the crow were very much hurt at this speech, the
more that he knew full well it was not exactly love for the mouse,
which had led him to make his offer, but self-interest: for who could
tell what difficulties he himself might some day be in, out of which