Presently he heard a grunt and a crash and a scramble, and the Ethiopian called out, ‘I’ve caught a thing that I can’t see. It smells like Giraffe, and it kicks like Giraffe, but it hasn’t any form.’ ‘Don’t you trust it,’ said the Leopard. ‘Sit on its head till the morning--same as me. They haven’t any form--any of ‘em.’ So they sat down on them hard till bright morning-time, and then Leopard said, ‘What have you at your end of the table, Brother?’ The Ethiopian scratched his head and said, ‘It ought to be ‘sclusively a rich fulvous orange-tawny from head to heel, and it ought to be Giraffe; but it is covered all over with chestnut blotches. What have you at your end of the table, Brother?’ And the Leopard scratched his head and said, ‘It ought to be ‘sclusively a delicate greyish-fawn, and it ought to be Zebra; but it is covered all over with black and purple stripes. What in the world have you been doing to yourself, Zebra? Don’t you know that if you were on the High Veldt I could see you ten miles off? You haven’t any form.’ ‘Yes,’ said the Zebra, ‘but this isn’t the High Veldt. Can’t you see?’ ‘I can now,’ said the Leopard. ‘But I couldn’t all yesterday. How is it done?’ ‘Let us up,’ said the Zebra, ‘and we will show you. They let the Zebra and the Giraffe get up; and Zebra moved away to some little thorn-bushes where the sunlight fell all stripy, and Giraffe moved off to some tallish trees where the shadows fell all blotchy. ‘Now watch,’ said the Zebra and the Giraffe. ‘This is the way it’s done. One--two--three! And where’s your breakfast?’ Leopard stared, and Ethiopian stared, but all they could see were stripy shadows and blotched shadows in the forest, but never a sign of Zebra and Giraffe. They had just walked off and hidden themselves in the shadowy forest. ‘Hi! Hi!’ said the Ethiopian. ‘That’s a trick worth learning. Take a lesson by it, Leopard. You show up in this dark place like a bar of soap in a coal-scuttle.’ ‘Ho! Ho!’ said the Leopard. ‘Would it surprise you very much to know that you show up in this dark place like a mustard-plaster on a sack of coals?’ ‘Well, calling names won’t catch dinner, said the Ethiopian. ‘The long and the little of it is that we don’t match our backgrounds. I’m going to take Baviaan’s advice. He told me I ought to change; and as I’ve nothing to change except my skin I’m going to change that.’ ‘What to?’ said the Leopard, tremendously excited. ‘To a nice working blackish-brownish colour, with a little purple in it, and touches of slaty-blue. It will be the very thing for hiding in hollows and behind trees.’ So he changed his skin then and there, and the Leopard was more excited than ever; he had never seen a man change his skin before. ‘But what about me?’ he said, when the Ethiopian had worked his last little finger into his fine new black skin. ‘You take Baviaan’s advice too. He told you to go into spots.’