Alligator in the world, to show me where you are, so nicely! I'll
breakfast at another part of the river."

The old Alligator was so furious that he crawled up on the bank and went
after the little Jackal; but, dear, dear, he couldn't catch the little
Jackal; he ran far too fast.

After this, the little Jackal did not like to risk going near the water,
so he ate no more crabs. But he found a garden of wild figs, which were
so good that he went there every day, and ate them instead of
shell-fish.

Now the old Alligator found this out, and he made up his mind to have
the little Jackal for supper, or to die trying. So he crept, and
crawled, and dragged himself over the ground to the garden of wild figs.
There he made a huge pile of figs under the biggest of the wild fig
trees, and hid himself in the pile.

After a while the little Jackal came dancing into the garden, very happy
and free from care,--_but_ looking all around. He saw the huge pile of
figs under the big fig tree.

"H-m," he thought, "that looks singularly like my friend, the Alligator.
I'll investigate a bit."

He stood quite still and began to talk to himself,--it was a little way
he had. He said,--

"The little figs I like best are the fat, ripe, juicy ones that drop off
when the breeze blows; and then the wind blows them about on the ground,