d want some fresh butter, and the chattee the Jackal
carried on his head was carefully fastened up, as if what it contained
was of the best; and she knew if she opened it, it might spoil before
her husband returned home; besides, she thought, if the Jackal had
intended to deceive her, he would have been more pressing in asking
her to buy it. So she said, "Very well, give me the chattee; here is
money for you. You are sure it is the best butter?"

"It is the best of its kind," answered the Jackal; "only be sure you
put it in some cool place, and don't open it till it is wanted." And
taking the money, he ran away.

A short time afterward the woman discovered how she had been cheated,
and was very angry, but the Jackal was by that time far away, out of
reach of punishment.

When his money was spent, the Jackal felt puzzled as to how to get a
living, since no one would give him food and he could buy none.
Fortunately for him, just then one of the bullocks belonging to the
village died. The Jackal found it lying dead by the roadside, and he
began to eat it, and ate, and ate so much that at last he had got too
far into the animal's body to be seen by passers-by. Now, the weather
was hot and dry. Whilst the Jackal was in it, the bullock's skin
crinkled up so tightly with the heat that it became too hard for him
to bite through, and so he could not get out again.

The Mahars of the village all came out to bury the dead bullock. The
Jackal, who was inside it, feared that if they caught him they would
kill him, and that if they did not discover him, he would be buried
alive; so on their approach he called out, "People, people, take care
how you touch me, for I am a great saint." The poor people were very
much frightened when they heard the dead bullock talking, and thought
that some mighty spirit must indeed possess it.

"Who are you, sir, and what do you want?" they cried.

"I," answered the Jackal, "am a very holy saint. I am also the god of
your village, and I am very angry with you because you never worship
me nor bring me offerings."

"O my Lord," they cried, "what offerings will please you? Tell us
only, and we will bring you whatever you like."

"Good," he replied. "Then you must fetch here plenty of rice, plenty
of flowers and a nice fat chicken; place them as an offering beside
me, and pour a great deal of water over them, as you do at your most
solemn feasts, and I will forgive you your sins." The Mahars did as