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 Rh by passers-by. Now, the weather was hot and dry. Whilst the Jackal was in it, the bullock's skin crinkled up so tightly with the heat that it became too hard for him to bite through, and so he could not get out again.

The Mahars of the village all came out to bury the dead bullock. The Jackal, who was inside it, feared that if they caught him they would kill him—and that if they did not discover him he would be buried alive so on their approach he called out, 'People, people! take care how you touch me, for I am a great saint.' The poor people were very much frightened when they heard the dead bullock talking, and thought that some mighty spirit must indeed possess it. 'Who are you, sir, and what do you want?' they cried. 'I,' answered the Jackal, 'am a very holy saint. I am also the god of your village, and I am very angry with you because you never worship me, nor bring me offerings.'—'O my Lord,' they cried; 'what offerings will please you? Tell us only, and we will bring you whatever you like.'—'Good,' he replied. 'Then you must fetch here plenty of rice, plenty of flowers, and a nice fat chicken—place them as an offering beside me, and pour a great deal of water over them, as you do at your most solemn feasts, and then I will forgive you your sins.' The Mahars did as they were commanded. They placed some rice and flowers, and the best chicken they could procure, beside the bullock; and poured water over it and the offering. Then no sooner did the dry hard bullock's skin get wetted, than it split in many places, and to the surprise of all his worshippers the Jackal jumped out, seized the chicken in his mouth, and ran away with it, through the midst of them, into the jungle. The Mahars followed him over hedges and ditches for many, many miles, but he got away in spite of them all.

On, on, he ran—on, on, for a very long way, until at last he came to a place where a little kid lived under a little sicakai tree. All her relations and friends were away, and when she saw him coming she thought to herself, 'Unless I frighten this Jackal he will eat me.' So she ran as hard as she could up against the sicakai-tree, which made all the branches shake, and the leaves go rustle, rustle, rustle. When the Jackal heard the rustling noise he got frightened, and thought it was all the little kid's friends coming to help her. And she called out to him, 'Run away, Jackal, run away! Thousands and thousands of Jackals have run