At these words the elephant uttered a piercing cry; the hare made an enormous bound on his back; and the tiger, struck with terror, rushed precipitately away at full speed, saying to the chimpanzee, “Now, you see; you laughed at my fears, and we both narrowly escaped death.” But the chimpanzee did not hear; for in the tiger’s precipitate retreat he had fallen off his back, struck himself against a bamboo, and died, cursing his rashness with his last sigh. THE HARE AND THE SNAIL. FABLE. TRANSLATED FROM THE CHINESE BY M. HENRI MOUHOT. Formerly, according to the Siamese, hares had thick ears; but a certain day one of these animals, having more legs than memory, met a snail dragging himself painfully along the ground, and in a moment of pride sought to humiliate him. “Why, little one, where are you going at this pace?” said he. “To the beautiful rice-fields of the next village.” “But, my poor fellow, you will be a long time reaching them. Why did not Nature furnish you with legs like mine? Confess you envy me. How long, now, do you think it would take me to get there?” “Perhaps longer than it would take me, though you pity me so much,” replied the snail, coldly. “You jest, do you not?” “No.” “Well, will you bet about it?” “Willingly.” “What will you bet?” “Whatever you like.” “Well, then, if you win you shall nibble my ears; for you cannot eat me; and if you lose I will eat you: will that suit you?” “Perfectly.” “Then set off; for I will give you a start.” While the hare began to browse the snail set off at his slow pace, and went to his brother, who was a little way off, and to him he communicated a pass-word, which he in turn told to another, and so on along the whole line which the betters had to travel, so that it quickly reached the end. Soon the hare, having satisfied his hunger, and feeling strong, set off, and flew over the ground, calling to the snail, whom he believed to be close by. “Ohé!” answered he, from a long way off. “Oh, he is already far on the way,” cried the hare, who set off again like an arrow. In a few minutes he stopped and called again: “Ohé,” answered a voice still farther on. “Really, he goes very quickly,” thought the hare, and he set off again. A quarter of an hour after, he stopped, quite out of breath. “Now,” said he, “I may rest; I must be far in advance; but I will call and see.” “Ohé! snail.” “Ohé!” replied a voice a long way on. “Oh! I must be quick; I shall lose my bet,” murmured the hare. He ran, and ran, and at last stopped, quite exhausted, only a few yards from the fields. “Snail,” cried he, faintly: “what! you are returning from the place? Unfortunate that I am, I have lost my bet;” and he made vain efforts to get up and escape, but, alas! his strength failed him, and the snail pitilessly gnawed his ears. Since that day the hare always avoids damp places, for fear of meeting one of the creatures who punished him for his pride. TALE. TRANSLATED FROM THE CHINESE BY M. HENRI MOUHOT.