e. I heard a strange rustle in the leaves of the small plants
of the jungle; but nothing came of it. Again I changed my tune
and played on. This time even the leaves did not move, so I was
sure my flute was not catching the ear of any animal. I was
heart-broken. I had gone to test my knowledge of flute-playing,
but I found out that I could not attract any animal.

It was getting late; the darkness of the jungle became thicker
and thicker, though the April sun was still scorching the open
meadow. At last in desperation, I tried my only remaining
tune, not being very proficient on the flute. For a while nothing
happened. I played so intently that I paid attention to nothing
else and was greatly startled to hear a noise as if someone were
pulling on a rope. I looked up and there was a stag whose
nostrils were quivering with excitement as if he scented the
music. His beautiful forked horns were caught up in a creeper
hanging from a tree, from which he was trying to free himself. I
kept on playing, but did not take my eyes from him. At last he
freed himself from the vine, but a tendril still clung to his
horns like a crown of green. He came nearer and stood still.

I kept on playing, and one by one more golden faces began to come
out from behind the foliage of the jungle. The spotted fawn, the
musk-deer, gazelles and antelopes, all seemed to answer the call
of the music. I stopped playing. That instant a shiver went
through the herd; the stag stamped his foot on the ground and as
swiftly as the waving of a blade of grass in the breeze they all
disappeared in the forest. I could feel in the distance the
shiver of the undergrowth of grass and saplings indicating the
way the animals had passed.

Knowing this power of music over animals, I wanted to train Kari
and Kopee to follow the tunes of my flute. Kopee was such a
monkey that I could not make him listen. Whenever I began to play
the flute, he would go to sleep or run up a tree. Monkeys have no
brains.

Kari, on the contrary, though much worse at first, was more
sensible. He paid no attention to any tune that I played, but
once in a while, I would strike a note that would make him stop
still and listen, and I could tell by his manner that this tune
went home. Those long fanning ears of his would stop waving and
the restless trunk would be still for a moment. Unfortunately,
the notes that really reached his soul were very few--I could
hardly sustain them for more than