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Oh, I know, little crow I have known since our first meet-ing. You are growing up into a fine child. But you smell nothing like any meat I eat. Father tiger brought his whis-kers close enough to tickle Budhani’s face. Another Budhani looked back from the pupils of his eye, shortetied to a speck of a doll floating on its gloss. In his breath mingled the sweet, inviting smell of fresh blood and red meat and the rot of little anintals churning through his guts..

Keep cleverer company than this calf, little crow,’ he said. ‘Courage comes from being challenged, not from being licked and followed around by a servant. He violently shook away lethargy and dust from his great coat, then bounded over a bush to melt into the shadows.