of the sheep he had killed a few nights ago. Nearly all the animals,
at the moment he came upon them, were standing with uplifted heads,
their sharp noses pointing at the peaceful moon, howling and screaming
at the top of their voices. In a few moments some of them stopped, and
continued their occupation of tearing off the rotten flesh of the dead
sheep, and swallowing it greedily. Dozens of vultures hovered
overhead, and, watching their opportunity, dived down every now and
again and tore a piece of flesh from the carcass with their powerful
beaks, and then hurried off, making unearthly noises which, joined to
the howls of the jackals, made the most awful discord imaginable.

When the jackals had all stopped howling, Jinks moved slowly forward,
with a deprecating air, for he was not sure of his reception. And,
indeed, had he known what sort of a reception he would get, it is
doubtful whether he would ever have ventured forward at all. For the
moment the jackals caught sight of him, with one accord they left the
carcass of the sheep, and with a few swift bounds surrounded him. They
very soon let him know he was a stranger, and an unwelcome one, and
before he had time to realize the state of affairs he had received
several sharp bites.

His smell was against him, to begin with, for a tame jackal loses much
of the strongness of the odor peculiar to him, and a pack of jackals
rather prides itself on the strongness of its smell, for this smell
keeps away many things that are unpleasant to them in the shape of
enemies.

But Jinks was not going to stand still and be bitten to death, so he
promptly turned upon his assailants, and bit and tore some of them so
savagely that the others paused. One old jackal, being keenly jealous