two, he
nodded gravely.

'He is quite fat enough; he is a good sheep.'

But the hedgehog, who sometimes showed more cunning than anyone would
have guessed, answered:

'My friend, you are talking nonsense. The wool is indeed a sheep's wool,
but the paws of my uncle the greyhound peep out from underneath.'

'He is a sheep,' repeated the jackal, who did not like to think anyone
cleverer than himself.

'Hold the cord while I look at him,' answered the hedgehog.

Very unwillingly the jackal held the rope, while the hedgehog walked
slowly round the greyhound till he reached the jackal again. He knew
quite well by the paws and tail that it was a greyhound and not a sheep,
that the shepherd had sold them; and as he could not tell what turn
affairs might take, he resolved to get out of the way.

'Oh! yes, you are right,' he said to the jackal; 'but I never can eat
till I have first drunk. I will just go and quench my thirst from
that spring at the edge of the wood, and then I shall be ready for
breakfast.'

'Don't be long, then,' called the jackal, as the hedgehog hurried off at
his best pace. And he lay down under a rock to wait for him.

More than an hour passed by and the hedgehog had had plenty of time to
go to the spring and back, and still there was no sign of him. And this
was very natural, as he had hidden himself in some long grass under a
tree!

At length the jackal guessed that for some reason his friend had run
away, and determined to wait for his breakfast no longer. So he went up
to the place where the greyhound had been tethered and untied the rope.
But just as he was about to spring on his back and give him a deadly
bite, the jackal heard a low growl, which never proceeded from the
throat of any sheep. Like a flash of lightning the jackal threw down the
cord and was flying across the plain; but though his legs were long, the
greyhound's legs were longer still, and he soon came up with his prey.
The jackal turned to fight, but he was no match for the greyhound, and
in a few minutes he was lying dead on the ground, while the greyhound
was trotting peacefully back to the shepherd.

The Adventures of the Jackal's Eldest Son

[Nouveaux Contes Berberes, par Rene Basset.]

Now, though the jackal was dead, he had left two sons behind him, every
whit as cunning and tricky as their father. The elder of the two was a
fine handsome creature, who had a pleasant manner and made many friends.
The anima