had the leaves about
him, he did not dare to produce them at the last moment lest the baboon
should guess why he had stayed behind. So he just went round a corner
for a short time, and then came hopping back in a great hurry. But,
quick though he was, Gudu had been quicker still, and nothing remained
but some drops of water.
'How unlucky you are,' said Gudu, snatching the leaves; 'no sooner had
you gone than ever so many people arrived, and washed their hands, as
you see, and ate your portion.' But, though Isuro knew better than to
believe him, he said nothing, and went to bed hungrier than he had ever
been in his life.
Early next morning they started for another village, and passed on the
way a large garden where people were very busy gathering monkey- nuts.
'You can have a good breakfast at last,' said Gudu, pointing to a heap
of empty shells; never doubting but that Isuro would meekly take the
portion shown him, and leave the real nuts for himself. But what was
his surprise when Isuro answered:
'Thank you; I think I should prefer these.' And, turning to the
kernels, never stopped as long as there was one left. And the worst of
it was that, with so many people about, Gudu could not take the nuts
from him.
It was night when they reached the village where dwelt the mother of
Gudu's betrothed, who laid meat and millet porridge before them.
'I think you told me you were fond of porridge,' said Gudu; but Isuro
answered: 'You are mistaking me for somebody else, as I always eat meat
when I can get it.' And again Gudu was forced to be content with the
porridge, which he hated.
While he was eating it, however a sudden thought darted into his mind,
and he managed to knock over a great pot of water which was hanging in
front of the fire, and put it quite out.
'Now,' said the cunning creature to himself, 'I shall be able in the
dark to steal his meat!' But the rabbit had grown as cunning as he,
and standing in a corner hid the meat behind him, so that the baboon
could not find it.
'O Gudu!' he cried, laughing aloud, 'it is you who have taught me to be
clever.' And calling to the people of the house, he bade them kindle
the fire, for Gudu would sleep by it, but that he would pass the night
with some friends in another hut.
It was still quite dark when Isuro heard his name called very softly,
and, on opening his eyes, beheld Gudu standing by him. Laying his
finger on his nose, in token of silence, he signed to Isuro to get up
and follow him, and it was not until they were some distance from the
hut that Gudu spoke.
'I am hungry and want something to eat better than that nasty porridge
that I had for supper. So I am going to kill one of those goats, and
as you are a good cook you must boil the flesh for me.' The rabbit
nodded, and Gudu disappeared behind a rock, but soon returned dragging
the dead goat with him. The two then set about skinning it, after
which they stuffed the skin with dried leaves, so that no one would
have guessed it was not alive, and set it up in the middle of a lump of
bushes, which kept it firm on its feet. While he was doing this, Isuro
collected sticks for a fire, and when it was kindled, Gudu hastened to
another hut to steal a pot which he filled with water from the river,
and, planting two branches in the ground, they hung the pot with the
meat in it over the fire.
'It will not be fit to eat for two hours at least,' said Gudu, 'so we
can both have a nap.' And he stretched himself out on the ground, and
pretended to fall fast asleep, but, in reality, he was only waiting
till it was safe to take all the meat for himself. 'Surely I hear him
snore,' he thought; and he stole to the place where Isuro was lying on
a pile of wood, but the rabbit's eyes were wide open.
'How tiresome,' muttered Gudu, as he went back to his place; and after
waiting a little longer he got up, and peeped again, but still the
rabbit's pink eyes stared widely. If Gudu had only known, Isuro was
asleep all the time; but this he never