climb up the tree, take away all her eggs, kill
both her and her young, and break her nest to pieces.
The harmless Dove, thinking of two ills to choose the least, did
as the Fox required her; and threw him down now one of her eggs,
and then one of her young ones. Having done so, for some time,
with a great deal of grief and sorrow, and the Fox continuing
still to demand it of her, she, at last, made her complaint to
the Raven, who chanced to come and perch herself on the same
tree; grievously bemoaning her fate, that she, like a good
mother, to provide for her children, was at last obliged to make
them a sacrifice to such a villain. But the Raven, who was not so
timorous as she, advised her, whenever the Fox threatened her
again, that he would kill both her and her young, if she would
not throw one of them down to him, to answer him roundly,--"If
you could have flown or climbed up the tree, you would not have
been so often contented with one of my eggs, or of my young; but
would, long since, according to your ravenous and blood-thirsty
nature, have devoured both me and them." In short, the next time
the Fox came, and threatened her as before, she replied as the
Raven had instructed her.
The Fox, hearing her answer, and knowing very well that she was
not so wise and cunning of herself, resolved to find out the
truth of the matter; and, at length, came to understand that it
was the Raven who had been her counsellor. He, therefore, vowed
to be revenged on her, who had now, the second time, hindered him
from getting his prey. Not long after, he espied her sitting on a
high thorn-tree; and, going to her, began to praise her at a
mighty rate,--magnifying her good fortune above that of all
beasts, who could neither fly like her, nor tread the ground with
so majestical a gait: adding, withal, that it would be a great
pleasure to him to see her lordly walk; that he might from
thence, be certain whether she were indeed so divine and
prophetic a bird as men had always held her to be.
The Raven, transported to hear herself thus praised to the skies,
flew down; and, pitching upon the ground, walked to and fro, in
mighty pomp and state. The Fox seemed highly delighted; and said,
that he extremely wondered how the Raven could keep upon the
ground, when the wind blew her feathers over her eyes, and
hindered her sight; but chiefly when it blew before, behind, and
on all sides of her. "I can very well provide against that," said
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