The Four Friends

Near a lake that kept the sky's spare light, a crow named Laghupatinaka watched a hunter scatter grain. Grain in a clearing is never only grain.

CrowBelow me a dove-king is walking into a net dressed as breakfast. I cannot cut cords. But I know a mouse who can.

The mouse, Hiranyaka, came because the crow had once shared more than warnings. He gnawed the net until the doves rose like a torn cloud. That was the first knot of the friendship.

Later they gained a deer, and later still a tortoise named Mantharaka, who spoke slowly enough to be wise. They ate together, which is how animals vote.

One dusk the deer did not return. The crow found him in a snare, eyes wide, legs teaching the rope their names.

DeerDo not wait for morning. Morning belongs to the hunter.

The mouse cut the snare. The deer sprang free. But the tortoise, who had come too far from water in his worry, was scooped up by the hunter like a bowl.

MouseHe is slow, and we were fast only for ourselves. If we leave him, we were never four.

CrowThen let the deer lie down as if dead. I will sit on him as grief sits. The hunter loves a second prize. When he drops the first, the mouse will be ready.

It happened as planned. The hunter set the tortoise down to claim a fallen deer. The mouse freed the tortoise. The deer leapt up. The crow laughed without a sound.

HunterThe forest has learned theater. I will hunt elsewhere.

They returned to the lake. Four shadows braided on the water. Remember this: the net that catches one is cut by the teeth of another, if the other still comes.