reported to the king. In that case my very life would be in genuine danger. I will take the bird and report to the king myself." And he did so.
Now when the king saw the bird, his lotus eyes blossomed and he felt supremely gratified. "Come now, guardsmen," said he. "Look after this bird with anxious care. Give him everything he wants to eat and drink."
Then a counselor said: "He was hatched from an egg. Why keep him? You have no evidence save the mere incredible assurance of a hunter. Is gold ever present in bird-dung? Take this bird from the cage and set him free."
So the king, taking the counselor's advice, freed the bird, who perched on the lofty arch of the doorway long enough to drop dung which was of gold. Then he recited the stanza:
I played the fool at first; then he
Who had me on his tether;
And then the king and counselor—
We all were fools together.
After which he took his carefree flight through the atmosphere.
"And that is why I say:
I played the fool at first, . . . .
and the rest of it."
But once more—for fate was hostile—they neglected Red-Eye's counsel, sound as it was, and pam-
