Although the lion looked very terrible, the Doctor tried hard not to seem afraid of him. “I didn’t ask you to eat them,” he said quietly. “And besides, they’re not dirty. They’ve all had a bath this morning. _Your_ coat looks as though it needed brushing—badly. Now listen, and I’ll tell you something: the day may come when the lions get sick. And if you don’t help the other animals now, the lions may find themselves left all alone when _they_ are in trouble. That often happens to proud people.” [Illustration: “‘_ME, the King of Beasts_, to wait on a lot of dirty monkeys?’”] “The lions are never _in_ trouble—they only _make_ trouble,” said the Leader, turning up his nose. And he stalked away into the jungle, feeling he had been rather smart and clever. Then the leopards got proud too and said they wouldn’t help. And then of course the antelopes—although they were too shy and timid to be rude to the Doctor like the lion—_they_ pawed the ground, and smiled foolishly, and said they had never been nurses before. And now the poor Doctor was worried frantic, wondering where he could get help enough to take care of all these thousands of monkeys in bed. But the Leader of the Lions, when he got back to his den, saw his wife, the Queen Lioness, come running out to meet him with her hair untidy. “One of the cubs won’t eat,” she said. “I don’t know _what_ to do with him. He hasn’t taken a thing since last night.” And she began to cry and shake with nervousness—for she was a good mother, even though she was a lioness. So the Leader went into his den and looked at his children—two very cunning little cubs, lying on the floor. And one of them seemed quite poorly. Then the lion told his wife, quite proudly, just what he had said to the Doctor. And she got so angry she nearly drove him out of the den. “You never _did_ have a grain of sense!” she screamed. “All the animals from here to the Indian Ocean are talking about this wonderful man, and how he can cure any kind of sickness, and how kind he is—the only man in the whole world who can talk the language of the animals! And now, _now_—when we have a sick baby on our hands, you must go and offend him! You great booby! Nobody but a fool is ever rude to a _good_ doctor. You—,” and she started pulling her husband’s hair. “Go back to that white man at once,” she yelled, “and tell him you’re sorry. And take all the other empty-headed lions with you—and those stupid leopards and antelopes. Then do everything the Doctor tells you. Work like niggers! And perhaps he will be kind enough to come and see the cub later. Now be off!—_Hurry_, I tell you! You’re not fit to be a father!” And she went into the den next door, where another mother-lion lived, and told her all about it. So the Leader of the Lions went back to the Doctor and said, “I happened to be passing this way and thought I’d look in. Got any help yet?” “No,” said the Doctor. “I haven’t. And I’m dreadfully worried.”