The Clever Hare and the Lion

The sky was not yet light, and dew lay thick on the leaves, when the hare got up. He crept out of his door and breathed in the salty sea air blowing from offshore. The hare was always the earliest riser in the forest, so he could visit the honey tree before the sun climbed high.

This story belongs to the Swahili people of the island of Zanzibar, where the forest runs right down to the edge of the waves on the coast of East Africa.

In that forest there grew a big honey tree. Its flowers bloomed all year round, and bees built thick nests on its high branches. The hare had a close friend, the tortoise. Every day the two of them set off together for that tree. The tortoise crawled up slowly in front, the nimble hare climbed after him, and together they gathered honey. Before reaching into a nest, the two friends would gently send up a thin wisp of smoke from a handful of dry straw. It was just enough to make the bees scatter, without making a single one angry.

The lion thought of that honey tree as his very own. Not long before, he had come upon the hare and the tortoise taking honey right up in the tree, and he had let out a furious roar. The quick-witted tortoise rolled the hare up inside a big bundle of straw that lay piled at the foot of the tree. Then he gave the bundle a gentle push, and it tipped over and rolled down the slope. The lion was so busy watching the bundle roll that by the time he came to his senses, the hare had slipped out through a gap and vanished into the undergrowth. Furious, the lion searched the whole forest for several days, but never caught a glimpse of him.

That morning, the hare and the tortoise went back to the honey tree as usual. The lion was hiding close by, quietly watching. This time he did not rush out as he had before. He simply watched in silence as the hare came and went, and he memorized every path the hare liked to take. At noon, the hare said goodbye to the tortoise and set off home for a rest. The lion followed far behind, stepping very softly so as not to make a sound.

The lion took a shortcut and reached the hare's front door while the hare was still dawdling on the way. He squeezed through the gap in the door and crawled inside. Then he lay curled up behind a heap of dry leaves in the corner, not stirring, waiting to catch the hare when he came home.

Late in the afternoon, the hare strolled home, happy after a day of plenty of honey. Halfway there, he stopped short. On the familiar path there was a large footprint, brand new and not yet dry. The hare had never seen a footprint like it near his home before. His heart skipped a beat, but he did not run. He only walked more slowly, his eyes searching every bush along the way.

Right by the door, the hare stopped altogether. It was a habit he had kept for many years. Every time he came home, he stood outside and called out a greeting before he went in. He cleared his throat and called into the house. "Hello, house!" When no answer came, he called once more to be sure. "Hello, house!" There was still only silence, so he called a third time. "Hello, house!" Then, thinking of the strange footprint on the path, he said very loudly on purpose, "How odd. Every other day, when I greet my house, it greets me back."

Sure enough, the moment he finished, a deep, gruff voice hurried out from inside the house, answering his greeting. A house cannot talk. The hare understood at once that someone was hiding in there, and that whoever it was had just fallen for his trick.

The hare's heart was pounding now, but his legs did not shake at all. He did not run off at once, and he did not go in either. He backed away to a safe distance. Then he called into the house in a clear, steady voice. "Lion, my house has no mouth to answer a greeting with. What are you doing hiding in there?" Caught out, the lion could bear it no longer. He gave a roar, burst straight out of the door, and charged after the hare.

The hare shot away as fast as he could. He slipped through thorn bushes and ducked under low roots, places where his small feet could pass but the lion's big paws were forced to stop. But the lion was much faster, and little by little his long legs closed the gap. At a clearing he reached out, grabbed the hare by the tail, and held on tight.

The hare calmed himself at once. He turned his head and spoke to the lion, as cool as if nothing had happened. "I am very tough, you know. Hold me by the tail and swing me round hard a few times first, then we will see." The lion thought that made good sense. He gripped the hare's tail tightly and spun him round and round in the air.

While the lion was still spinning him, the hare twisted his body and slipped right out of the lion's grip. He rolled over once, sprang to his feet, and ran straight into the thick forest, without a scratch. The lion stood dumbfounded for a moment. Then he roared and gave chase, but the hare already had a head start. He wove through bushes that were just big enough for his own small body.

The lion kept up the chase for a long way, until night fell. By then he was gasping for breath, and his four legs were dragging with weariness. He stopped short in the middle of the forest, panting hard, and gave up. On his way back he met a few other forest animals. He only shook his head and told them how he had blurted out an answer on behalf of a house. Then he told them about the tail that had slipped out of his grip, just when he thought he had won. He said he gave up, and from now on he would not bother hunting the hare any more.

By the time night had fully fallen, the forest by the sea was filled with the steady chirping of insects. The hare came home and stood before his door as always. He called his greeting to the house three full times. This time, only the familiar silence answered him, just as it had all those years before. The hare smiled, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him. The whole forest sank into a peaceful sleep.