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“Hi!... Ho!... Murder!... Help!”

But he was soon dead. Two-Legs and his wife ate him and found him excellent.

“Get me another fish like that to-morrow, will you?” said Mrs. Two-Legs. “Frankly speaking, I was getting rather tired of those apples.”

Next day, Two-Legs went into the river again. He was not long before he saw another fine fish, but, just as he wanted to catch it, the otter snapped it away in front of his nose.

“Get out of my river, you thief!” shouted Two-Legs and struck at him.

“Whom are you calling thief?” said the otter, snarling and showing his white teeth. “I rather thought the river was mine. I was living here long before you came.”

Two-Legs leapt on shore and picked up some big stones and flung them at the otter. One of them caught him on the snout and made it bleed. Then he hid in his hole and Two-Legs caught another fish and took it home to his wife. But, when the otter came out again at night, the orang-outang was sitting there and nodding to him:

“I have seen all,” said the orang-outang. “I was sitting in the tree over there and saw him throw the stone at you. The water turned quite red with your blood. He ill-treated me once too. He said the apples were his and drove me out of the tree with a stick. And to think that we are relations!”