An old lion found a sheltered spot on a ridge overlooking the savannah. From here, he could observe the movements of his prey without leaving his bed. And so he decided to make the place his home. However, a nest of mice had been living in that spot for many years.

Neither party was pleased to discover the presence of the other. When the mice informed the lion of this fact and asked he find somewhere else to live, the lion roared with laughter and bluntly suggested they do the same. Or he would kill every one of their number he laid eyes on.

The mice resolved to make mischief for the lion—there was not much else they could do against such a powerful opponent. Thus, whenever the lion looked to have fallen asleep, the mice crept from their hole to nip at his tail or chew on his mane, or generally cause him irritation in any manner that came to mind.

Naturally, the lion was not going to tolerate this mischief for long, but nor did he intend to waste his time on the problem. So he engaged a wild cat to do his dirty work. If the cat kept the mice from bothering him, he would reward it with choice morsels from his table.

The cat applied itself with relish to both the task and the tasty meals it was granted, and the mischief was soon curtailed. But the cat’s vigilance meant the mice were unable to leave their nest at all and they began to starve.

Eventually, one mouse made a desperate attempt to escape the siege. It very nearly succeeded, but a claw skewered the tip of its tail and it was caught. “Please,” it begged, as the cat began to stab at its ribs. “Please, we need food. We are starving to death.” “Not my problem,” the cat replied.

This gave the mouse an idea. “But it is your problem,” it exclaimed. “Think about it. What would happen if all us mice were to die?” “My master would be pleased.” “And after that?” the mouse asked. “After that you would be out of a job,” it continued. “And you like your job, don’t you? You lounge all day with one eye open and then at night you eat like a king.”

“Are you saying I should let you go?” the cat asked, intrigued by the mouse’s insight into his affairs. “Yes, of course, I’m saying that!” the mouse responded. “Of course, you should let me go, but more than that, I’m saying you should make sure we get enough food to survive. You need us mice alive.”

“Interesting,” the cat pondered. “And you would promise to stay out of sight and never trouble my master again.” “We don’t have much choice,” the mouse noted. “We are on the brink of extermination, as you can see.” “Very well the,” said the cat, removing its claw. “Go. Get out of my sight.”

But instead of gathering food, the mouse ran directly to the outstretched leg of the sleeping lion and delivered a sharp, vindictive bite to its toe. The lion woke and, instantly enraged, lashed out with a heavy claw. The mouse fled and thus the blow struck the cat as it passed in horrified pursuit.

“I thought I told you to keep those creatures from bothering me,” the lion roared at that cat, who lay shivering in the dust, grievously wounded. “I will, master. I promise,” it breathed obediently as the life drained from its body, and it died.

 Richard Parkin, 2024