The Crane and the Crab

Also known as Bagula Bhagat aur Kekda

• 3 minute read
• Ages 6-10
• Panchatantra Stories

An old crane lived beside a lake full of fish. Once he had been a fine hunter, but his eyes had dimmed and his legs had grown slow, and now he could catch nothing at all.

So he stood at the water's edge one morning with his head bowed, and he began to weep.

A crab came sideways out of the shallows to see what was wrong.

"Why are you crying?" he asked.

The crane's terrible news

"Oh, it is not for myself," said the crane. "I am old. My time is nearly done. I am crying for all of you."

"For us?" said the crab.

"I overheard some fishermen this morning," said the crane. "They have decided that this lake has too many fish. Tomorrow, or the day after, they are coming with their nets. They will empty this water completely. Not one of you will be left."

The crab hurried back and told the fish, and the fish came crowding to the surface in a panic.

"What can we do?" they cried. "You have lived here longest. Help us!"

The crane sighed, as though the weight of the world were on him.

"There is one thing," he said. "Beyond that hill there is a deep pond that no fisherman knows about. I am old and weak, but I could carry you there, one at a time, in my beak. It would take many days. But I could try."

The journey over the hill

The fish were overjoyed. They pressed forward, each one begging to be taken first.

So the crane began. He took a fish gently in his beak, flew off over the hill, and came back empty. Then another. Then another.

Every day, all day, he carried them away.

But there was no pond beyond the hill. There was a wide flat rock, and on that rock the crane ate every fish he carried, one by one, and dropped the bones. The pile of bones grew until it was as tall as he was.

The crab's turn

At last the lake was almost empty, and only the crab was left.

"Take me too," said the crab.

"Of course," said the crane. "Climb onto my neck. Your shell is too hard for my beak."

The crab climbed up and held on with his claws, and they rose into the air and went over the hill.

And from up there, the crab looked down and saw the flat rock, and the white heap of bones on it, shining in the sun.

He understood everything in a single moment.

He did not shout. He did not struggle. He simply tightened his claws, slowly and carefully, around the old crane's thin neck, and he did not let go until the crane came down.

Then he walked home over the hill, all the way back to the lake, alone.