The Elephant-Fighting Hare
The hare thought the elephant was unwilling to fight, so he called him a coward. The elephant then lost his temper and went straight at the saucy little thing with trunk up, bellowing, but the hare, with the characteristic nimbleness of its race, kept dodging him about, slipping in and out, round and under him, among his legs.
All of a sudden the mighty animal flung himself down, as if to crush his puny enemy under his Juggernaut weight, but the hare slipped out by his tail and, clambering on to the elephant's back, lay down there quietly.
The elephant, no more conscious of its presence than the wheel was of the fly sitting on it, still kept pressing himself to the ground, as if to crush to pulp the impudent hare supposed to be beneath him.
The other elephants, seeing the hare lying on the back of their leader, fancied it must be keeping him down by superior physical force, so they became frightened and bolted.
The leader of the herd, finding himself thus deserted by his companions and tormented by an army of ants that his gusty breathing had drawn into his nostrils, then rose and dashed away. Thus were the elephants vanquished by the hare.