The Lion and the Cat

The Lion and the Cat

Far away on the other side of the world there lived, long ago, a lion

and his younger brother, the wild cat, who were so fond of each other

that they shared the same hut. The lion was much the bigger and

stronger of the two—indeed, he was much bigger and stronger than any of

the beasts that dwelt in the forest; and, besides, he could jump father

and run faster than all the rest. If strength and swiftness could gain

him a dinner he was sure never to be without one, but when it came to

cunning, both the grizzly bear and the serpent could get the better of

him, and he was forced to call in the help of the wild cat.

Now the young wild cat had a lovely golden ball, so beautiful that you

could hardly look at it except through a piece of smoked glass, and he

kept it hidden in the thick fur muff that went round his neck. A very

large old animal, since dead, had given it to him when he was hardly

more than a baby, and had told him never to part with it, for as long

as he kept it no harm could ever come near him.

In general the wild cat did not need to use his ball, for the lion was

fond of hunting, and could kill all the food that they needed; but now

and then his life would have been in danger had it not been for the

golden ball.

One day the two brothers started to hunt at daybreak, but as the cat

could not run nearly as fast as the lion, he had quite a long start. At

least he THOUGHT it was a long one, but in a very few bounds and

springs the lion reached his side.

“There is a bear sitting on that tree,” he whispered softly. “He is

only waiting for us to pass, to drop down on my back.”

“Ah, you are so big that he does not see I am behind you,” answered the

wild cat. And, touching the ball, he just said: “Bear, die!” And the

bear tumbled dead out of the tree, and rolled over just in front of

them.

For some time they trotted on without any adventures, till just as they

were about to cross a strip of long grass on the edge of the forest,

the lion’s quick ears detected a faint rustling noise.

“That is a snake,” he cried, stopping short, for he was much more

afraid of snakes than of bears.

“Oh, it is all right,” answered the cat. “Snake, die!” And the snake

died, and the two brothers skinned it. They then folded the skin up

into a very small parcel, and the cat tucked it into his mane, for

snakes’ skins can do all sorts of wonderful things, if you are lucky

enough to have one of them.

All this time they had had no dinner, for the snake’s flesh was not

nice, and the lion did not like eating bear—perhaps because he never

felt sure that the bear was REALLY dead, and would not jump up alive

when his enemy went near him. Most people are afraid of SOME thing, and

bears and serpents were the only creatures that caused the lion’s heart

to tremble. So the two brothers set off again and soon reached the side

of a hill where some fine deer were grazing.

“Kill one of those deer for your own dinner,” said the boy-brother,

“but catch me another alive. I want him.”

The lion at once sprang towards them with a loud roar, but the deer

bounded away, and they were all three soon lost to sight. The cat

waited for a long while, but finding that the lion did not return, went

back to the house where they lived.

It was quite dark when the lion came home, where his brother was

sitting curled up in one corner.

“Did you catch the deer for me?” asked the boy-brother, springing up.

“Well, no,” replied the man-brother. “The fact is, that I did not get

up to them till we had run half way across the world and left the wind

far behind us. Think what a trouble it would have been to drag it here!

So—I just ate them both.”

The cat said nothing, but he did not feel that he loved his big

brother. He had thought a great deal about that deer, and had meant to

get on his back to ride him as a horse, and go to see all the wonderful

places the lion talked to him about when he was in a good temper. The

more he thought of it the more sulky he grew, and in the morning, when

the lion said that it was time for them to start to hunt, the cat told

him that he might kill the bear and snake by himself, as HE had a

headache, and would rather stay at home. The little fellow knew quite

well that the lion would not dare to go out without him and his ball

for fear of meeting a bear or a snake.

The quarrel went on, and for many days neither of the brothers spoke to

each other, and what made them still more cross was, that they could

get very little to eat, and we know that people are often cross when

they are hungry. At last it occurred to the lion that if he could only

steal the magic ball he could kill bears and snakes for himself, and

then the cat might be as sulky as he liked for anything that it would

matter. But how was the stealing to be done? The cat had the ball hung

round his neck day and night, and he was such a light sleeper that it

was useless to think of taking it while he slept. No! the only thing

was to get him to lend it of his own accord, and after some days the

lion (who was not at all clever) hit upon a plan that he thought would

do.

“Dear me, how dull it is here!” said the lion one afternoon, when the

rain was pouring down in such torrents that, however sharp your eyes or

your nose might be, you could not spy a single bird or beast among the

bushes. “Dear me, how dull, how dreadfully dull I am. Couldn’t we have

a game of catch with that golden ball of yours?”

“I don’t care about playing catch, it does not amuse me,” answered the

cat, who was as cross as ever; for no cat, even to this day, ever

forgets an injury done to him.

“Well, then, lend me the ball for a little, and I will play by myself,”

replied the lion, stretching out a paw as he spoke.

“You can’t play in the rain, and if you did, you would only lose it in

the bushes,” said the cat.

“Oh, no, I won’t; I will play in here. Don’t be so ill-natured.” And

with a very bad grace the cat untied the string and threw the golden

ball into the lion’s lap, and composed himself to sleep again.

For a long while the lion tossed it up and down gaily, feeling that,

however sound asleep the boy-brother might LOOK, he was sure to have

one eye open; but gradually he began to edge closer to the opening, and

at last gave such a toss that the ball went up high into the air, and

he could not see what became of it.

“Oh, how stupid of me!” he cried, as the cat sprang up angrily, “let us

go at once and search for it. It can’t really have fallen very far.”

But though they searched that day and the next, and the next after

that, they never found it, because it never came down.

After the loss of his ball the cat refused to live with the lion any

longer, but wandered away to the north, always hoping he might meet

with his ball again. But months passed, and years passed, and though he

travelled over hundreds of miles, he never saw any traces of it.

At length, when he was getting quite old, he came to a place unlike any

that he had ever seen before, where a big river rolled right to the

foot of some high mountains. The ground all about the river bank was

damp and marshy, and as no cat likes to wet its feet, this one climbed

a tree that rose high above the water, and thought sadly of his lost

ball, which would have helped him out of this horrible place. Suddenly

he saw a beautiful ball, for all the world like his own, dangling from

a branch of the tree he was on. He longed to get at it; but was the

branch strong enough to bear his weight? It was no use, after all he

had done, getting drowned in the water. However, it could do no harm,

if he was to go a little way; he could always manage to get back

somehow.

So he stretched himself at full length upon the branch, and wriggled

his body cautiously along. To his delight it seemed thick and stout.

Another movement, and, by stretching out his paw, he would be able to

draw the string towards him, when the branch gave a loud crack, and the

cat made haste to wriggle himself back the way he had come.

But when cats make up their minds to do anything they generally DO it;

and this cat began to look about to see if there was really no way of

getting at his ball. Yes! there was, and it was much surer than the

other, though rather more difficult. Above the bough where the ball was

hung was another bough much thicker, which he knew could not break with

his weight; and by holding on tight to this with all his four paws, he

could just manage to touch the ball with his tail. He would thus be

able to whisk the ball to and fro till, by-and-by, the string would

become quite loose, and it would fall to the ground. It might take some

time, but the lion’s little brother was patient, like most cats.

Well, it all happened just as the cat intended it should, and when the

ball dropped on the ground the cat ran down the tree like lightning,

and, picking it up, tucked it away in the snake’s skin round his neck.

Then he began jumping along the shore of the Big Water from one place

to another, trying to find a boat, or even a log of wood, that would

take him across. But there was nothing; only, on the other side, he saw

two girls cooking, and though he shouted to them at the top of his

voice, they were too far off to hear what he said. And, what was worse,

the ball suddenly fell out of its snake’s skin bag right into the

river.

Now, it is not at all an uncommon thing for balls to tumble into

rivers, but in that case they generally either fall to the bottom and

stay there, or else bob about on the top of the water close to where

they first touched it. But this ball, instead of doing either of these

things, went straight across to the other side, and there one of the

girls saw it when she stooped to dip some water into her pail.

“Oh! what a lovely ball!” cried she, and tried to catch it in her pail;

but the ball always kept bobbing just out of her reach.

“Come and help me!” she called to her sister, and after a long while

they had the ball safe inside the pail. They were delighted with their

new toy, and one or the other held it in her hand till bedtime came,

and then it was a long time before they could make up their minds where

it would be safest for the night. At last they locked it in a cupboard

in one corner of their room, and as there was no hole anywhere the ball

could not possibly get out. After that they went to sleep.

In the morning the first thing they both did was to run to the cupboard

and unlock it, but when the door opened they started back, for, instead

of the ball, there stood a handsome young man.

“Ladies,” he said, “how can I thank you for what you have done for me?

Long, long ago, I was enchanted by a wicked fairy, and condemned to

keep the shape of a ball till I should meet with two maidens, who would

take me to their own home. But where was I to meet them? For hundreds

of years I have lived in the depths of the forest, where nothing but

wild beasts ever came, and it was only when the lion threw me into the

sky that I was able to fall to earth near this river. Where there is a

river, sooner or later people will come; so, hanging myself on a tree,

I watched and waited. For a moment I lost heart when I fell once more

into the hands of my old master the wild cat, but my hopes rose again

as I saw he was making for the river bank opposite where you were

standing. That was my chance, and I took it. And now, ladies, I have

only to say that, if ever I can do anything to help you, go to the top

of that high mountain and knock three times at the iron door at the

north side, and I will come to you.”

So, with a low bow, he vanished from before them, leaving the maidens

weeping at having lost in one moment both the ball and the prince.

[Adapted from North American Indian Legends.]