The Lion and the Mouse

A steady breathing drifted from under an old tree deep in the forest. It was heavy and slow, like wind blowing through a deep cave in the rock. But it was not the wind. It was the breath of a lion fast asleep, his head resting on his front paws, his whole golden mane spread over the dry leaves.

In all the forest, no animal dared to come near that spot. The lion was the king of the old forest, and a sleeping lion was still more frightening than most other animals wide awake.

Then came another sound, much smaller, almost too faint to hear. One tiny footstep, then another, hurrying over the dry leaves. It was a very small mouse, rushing home to her nest after an outing in search of food.

This is an old fable of the ancient Greeks. Grandparents told it to parents, and parents told it to their children, from one generation to the next. It is as familiar as the story of the tortoise and the hare.

The mouse ran with her head down, one little foot after the other, her mind on the cozy nest ahead. She never noticed the giant lying right in front of her. At that very moment, she ran straight up the bridge of the sleeping lion's nose.

The lion woke with a start. A roar burst out and shook the leaves overhead. His golden eyes flew open and glared around for whoever had dared to disturb his sleep. In the blink of an eye, a huge paw came down hard and pinned the trembling little mouse beneath it.

The mouse looked up. The lion's shadow seemed to blot out the whole sky. There was nowhere left to run. All she could do was speak, her voice shaking with fear.

"Please spare me, sir. I did not mean to do it. If you are kind enough to let me live, one day I will surely repay you."

The lion burst out laughing. A mouse no bigger than a fist, promising to repay a lion! It sounded so silly that his laughter rang out across the forest. But the laughter cooled his anger. The lion lifted his paw and let the mouse go free.

"What could someone as tiny as you ever do for me?" the lion said, shaking his head. "But never mind. I have no wish to eat a little thing like you. Go on."

The mouse did not wait for the lion to change his mind. She dashed off into the bushes, her heart still pounding. The lion laid his head back down and went on with his interrupted sleep. He soon forgot all about what had just happened.

Many days later, the lion was hunting in the forest he knew so well. He walked with steps as soft and sure as ever. But right in the middle of a harmless-looking thicket, a thick net of rope lay waiting. Someone had set it there earlier and cleverly covered it with leaves.

The lion stepped into the net. The harder he struggled, the tighter the ropes pulled around his legs and his body. He roared and tugged again and again, but the net only bound him tighter. Never before had the lion felt so helpless. His angry, painful roar echoed far across the forest, off every tree trunk and every clump of grass.

In another corner of the forest, the mouse was running past when she stopped short. That roar sounded very familiar. It was the lion from that day, she was certain of it. Only this time, the roar held no anger at being woken. It held real panic.

The mouse did not hesitate. She turned and ran straight toward the roar, slipping under tree roots and squeezing through thorny bushes, as fast as she could go.

When she arrived, she found the lion collapsed in a tangle of ropes. His mane was a mess, and he was panting with exhaustion. The mouse said nothing. She climbed at once onto the biggest rope and bit down hard on it with her tiny teeth.

She gnawed. Then she gnawed some more. The rope was thick and tough, but the mouse did not stop. She kept biting at the very same spot, again and again, without a rest. The lion lay still and could only watch her work. He had no strength left to growl or thrash.

At last, the rope snapped. Then another one. Then another. Little by little the net loosened, until the lion could stretch and rise to his feet. He stepped right out of the tangled ropes.

The lion stood there, still shaking from his narrow escape. Then he bowed his head to look at the tiny mouse standing beside his paw. She was gasping for breath after all that endless gnawing.

"You laughed when I said I would repay you," the mouse said softly, still out of breath. "Now you see. Even a mouse can help a lion."

The lion was not laughing anymore. He only stood in silence and looked at the mouse for a long time. His eyes were nothing like they had been on the day he was woken. They were the eyes of a giant who had just been saved by the smallest creature in the forest.

Then the lion lowered his head and gently touched the tiny mouse with his nose. It was a thank-you with no need for words. After that, the two of them went their separate ways, through a forest still as deep and green as if nothing had ever happened.