THE LION AND THE CAT

Edition and rights: Original English text from Project Gutenberg ebook #31201, marked public domain in the USA. The literary text below is reproduced without AI rewriting.

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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
farther 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
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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.

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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
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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
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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
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
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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
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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.]

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