In a part of a forest was a lion drunk with pride, and his name was Numskull. He slaughtered the animals without ceasing. If he saw an animal, he could not spare him.

So all the natives of the forest—deer, boars, buffaloes, wild oxen, rabbits, and others came together, and with woe-begone countenances, bowed heads, and knees clinging to the ground, they undertook to beseech obsequiously the king of beasts: “Have done, O King, with this merciless, meaningless slaughter of all creatures. It is hostile to happiness in the other world. For the Scripture says:

A thousand future lives

Will pass in wretchedness

For since a fool commits

His present life to bless.

Again:

What wisdom in a deed

That brings dishonor fell,

That causes loss of trust,

That paves the way to hell

And yet again:

The ungrateful body, frail

And rank with filth within,

Is such that only fools

For its sake sink in sin.

“Consider these facts, and cease, we pray, to slaughter our generations. For if the master will remain at home, we will of our own motion send him each day for his daily food one animal of the forest. In this way neither the royal sustenance nor our families will be cut short. In this way let the king’s duty be performed. For the proverb says:

The king who tastes his kingdom like

Elixir, bit by bit,

Who does not overtax its life,

Will fully relish it.

The king who madly butchers men,

Their lives as little reckoned

As lives of goats, has one square meal,

But never has a second.

A king desiring profit, guards

His world from evil chance;

With gifts and honors waters it

As florists water plants.

Guard subjects like a cow, nor ask

For milk each passing hour:

A vine must first be sprinkled, then

It ripens fruit and flower.

The monarch-lamp from subjects draws

Tax-oil to keep it bright:

Has any ever noticed kings

That shone by inner light?

A seedling is a tender thing,

And yet, if not neglected,

It comes in time to bearing fruit:

So subjects well protected.

Their subjects form the only source

From which accrue to kings

Their gold, grain, gems, and varied drinks,

And many other things.

The kings who serve the common weal,

Luxuriantly sprout;

The common loss is kingly loss,

Without a shade of doubt.”

After listening to this address, Numskull said: “Well gentlemen, you are quite convincing. But if an animal does not come to me every day as I sit here, I promise you I will eat you all.” To this they assented with much relief, and fearlessly roamed the wood. Each day at noon one of them appeared as his dinner, each species taking its turn and providing an individual grown old, or religious, or grief-smitten, or fearful of the loss of son or wife.

One day a rabbit’s turn came, it being rabbit-day. And when all the thronging animals had given him directions, he reflected: “How