'Let the household hold together, though the house be ne'er so small; Strip the rice-husk from the rice-grain, and it groweth not at all.'
Having pondered this advice, the Pigeons adopted it; and flew away with the net. At first the fowler, who was at a distance, hoped to recover them, but as they passed out of sight with the snare about them he gave up the pursuit. Perceiving this, the Pigeons said,
"What is the next thing to be done, O King?"
"A friend of mine," said Speckle-neck, "lives near in a beautiful forest on the Gundaki. Golden-skin is his name--the King of the Mice--he is the one to cut these bonds."
Resolving to have recourse to him, they directed their flight to the hole of Golden-skin--a prudent monarch, who dreaded danger so much that he had made himself a palace with a hundred outlets, and lived always in it. Sitting there he heard the descent of the pigeons, and remained silent and alarmed.
"Friend Golden-skin," cried the King, "have you no welcome for us?"
"Ah, my friend!" said the Mouse-king, rushing out on recognizing the voice, "is it thou art come, Speckle-neck! how delightful!--But what is this?" exclaimed he, regarding the entangled net.
"That," said King Speckle-neck, "is the effect of some wrong-doing in a former life--
'Sickness, anguish, bonds, and woe Spring from wrongs wrought long ago,'[5]
Golden-skin, without replying, ran at once to the net, and began to gnaw the strings that held Speckle-neck.
"Nay! friend, not so," said the King, "cut me first these meshes from my followers, and afterwards thou shalt sever mine."
"I am little," answered Golden-skin, "and my teeth are weak--how can I gnaw so much? No! no! I will nibble your strings as long as my teeth last, and afterwards do my best for the others. To preserve dependents by sacrificing oneself is nowhere enjoined by wise moralists; on the contrary--
'Keep wealth for want, but spend-it for thy wife, And wife, and wealth, and all to guard thy life,'
"Friend," replied King Speckle-neck, "that may be the rule of policy, but I am one that can by no means bear to witness the distress of those who depend on me, for--
'Death, that must come, comes nobly when we give Our wealth, and life, and all, to make men live,'