Kancil and the Tiger

One afternoon, deep in the old forest of the Malay Peninsula, a huge shadow suddenly fell from above. It blotted out the patch of sunlight slanting through the leaves, right where a tiny mouse deer stood with its head down, nibbling. The Malay people have told this story to their children and grandchildren, generation after generation. It is about the afternoon when the biggest tiger in the forest very nearly ate the smallest and cleverest creature there. And it would have, if the tiger had not been so greedy.

The small creature in this story is Kancil, a mouse deer no bigger than a rabbit. His tiny ears were always pricked up, listening, and his steps were so light they barely seemed to touch the ground. All through the forests of the Malay Peninsula, every animal had heard how quick-witted Kancil was. But even the quickest wits have a careless moment now and then, and that moment had just arrived.

Before Kancil could even turn his head, he found himself pinned under a paw almost as big as his whole body. Sharp claws dug into the damp earth right beside his ribs. Looking up, Kancil saw a sheet of yellow fur with black stripes filling the whole sky. The tiger's gleaming white teeth were just one hand span from his face.

"Today you have nowhere left to run, little mouse deer," the tiger growled softly in its throat. Its voice was full of the glee of a hunter who knows it has already won.

Kancil kept still for exactly one breath. His heart was pounding, but he made his face look regretful rather than afraid. "Sir Tiger, you may eat me if you like," Kancil said, in a strangely slow voice. "But I am standing guard over a treasure of the King of the Forest, right here. If you spoil the king's business by accident, I fear you will be in far worse trouble than I am."

The tiger stopped short and its ears went up, more curious than afraid. "What treasure?"

Kancil gave a small nod toward a hornets' nest hanging from a branch nearby. It was almost as big as a wide, flat bamboo tray for drying rice. "That is the drum of the King of the Forest," Kancil whispered, as if he were letting out a great secret. "Its sound carries farther and rings sweeter than anything in this whole forest. It can be heard from one end of the forest to the other. The king gave strict orders that no one may beat it except the king himself. I am only standing here to guard it for him."

Something one of a kind, something no one else was allowed to touch: the very thought made the tiger feel an uneasy itch deep inside. It had always thought of itself as the strongest and grandest creature in the forest. So why should there be a drum it could not touch? The tiger loosened its paw a little and tilted its head to study the nest swaying in the wind. "I want to hear the sound of that drum, just once."

Kancil pretended to panic, and his ears drooped. "If you beat the drum, the king is sure to find out, and I will be blamed along with you. Oh, very well. Let me step aside somewhere, and I will pretend I saw nothing at all. Go ahead, help yourself."

The moment he finished speaking, Kancil slipped out from under the tiger's paw. He darted behind a large tree a safe distance away. The tiger paid him no attention at all. Its eyes were fixed on the nest. It raised its broad paw high and brought it down hard.

Thwack, went the nest, with a dry thud. The whole swarm of hornets burst out like an angry black cloud. They flew straight at the tiger's face, at its ears, at every part of its body. The biggest tiger in the forest leaped into the air, waving both front paws at the sky and roaring. It looked as if it were doing the clumsiest dance of its life. It ran wildly toward a stream nearby and plunged straight in. It stayed under the cool water until the hornets had all gone. Only then did it dare to lift its head out, sore and furious.

From behind the tree, Kancil watched quietly. He did not laugh out loud. He only gave a small smile, then slipped away into the deep forest. There he found another patch of ground to finish his half-eaten meal of leaves.

But the tiger was not one to give up so easily. Sore and resentful, it prowled through every thicket, sniffing at tree after tree. It was determined not to leave that crafty mouse deer in peace. Before long, another huge paw came down without warning. This time it pinned Kancil against a damp, rotting tree stump.

"This time you have no way out," the tiger roared. Its yellow eyes blazed with spite, and its hot breath blew straight into Kancil's face.

Kancil was not ready to give up yet. He glanced quickly to one side. There a large snake lay coiled up, fast asleep under the dry leaves. Its body was as thick as an adult's wrist, and it lay as still as a log. "Wait, Sir Tiger," Kancil said quickly, his voice as calm as if nothing at all were wrong. "That cord over there is the belt of the King of the Forest. It is the finest and most precious belt in this whole land. The king has just taken it off and left it with me for a little while. He told me that no one may touch it except the king himself."

The tiger looked at the belt lying in its coil, glossy in the afternoon sun. Its greed rose up again, even stronger than before. It had only just suffered a painful lesson from the hornets' nest. Even so, it could not resist the thought of wearing something meant only for the King of the Forest. "Give it here. I want to put it on, just once, to know how it feels to be king."

Kancil backed away a few steps, looking very reluctant. "Put it on if you must. But let me move off to the other side a little. If the king catches me, he will scold me for standing there and watching you use his things without a word."

As soon as Kancil had disappeared behind a thick bush, the tiger eagerly reached out and wrapped the belt around its belly. But this belt would not lie still the way the tiger expected. The snake woke with a start and at once squeezed tight around the tiger's body. Then the snake turned its head and struck the tiger once in the side. The tiger jumped and let out a short yelp, thrashing on the spot. It hurriedly tore the snake off its body. Then it ran as fast as its legs would carry it into the deep forest, without daring to look back even once.

From that day on, no one ever saw that big tiger prowling near Kancil's corner of the forest again.

Kancil went back to the very bush of young leaves he had been nibbling. And he calmly went on chewing, as if nothing had happened at all.