The Crow-Hen's Clever Plan

In a great banyan tree beside a river lived a crow-hen and her husband. Their nest rested safely in the fork of a high branch, woven from twigs, grass and soft leaves. From there they could see the silver water, the green fields and the distant roofs of a royal garden.

The crow couple loved their tree. They had returned to it through many seasons, and each year they hoped to raise a family among its sheltering leaves.

But beneath the tree's broad roots was a dark hollow. A black snake had made its home there.

The snake could not reach the crows while they watched from above. Yet whenever they both flew away to find food, it climbed quietly toward the nest. Again and again, the parents returned to find their eggs gone.

One evening, the crow-hen stood beside another empty nest. Her feathers drooped with sorrow.

“My dear,” she said to her husband, “we have lost too many little ones. Every time we leave, I fear what we will find when we return. Perhaps we must make a new home in another tree.”

The crow looked across the branches that had sheltered them for so long. He understood her grief, but he also knew that moving without a plan might only bring a different danger.

“You are right that we cannot continue like this,” he said gently. “We are not strong enough to fight the snake. But strength is not the only kind of power. Let us ask our friend the jackal for advice.”

The next morning, the crows flew to a neem tree a short distance away. Beneath it lived their friend, a golden jackal known for listening carefully before he spoke.

The crow-hen told him about the missing eggs and her fear of returning to an empty nest. The crow explained that they wished to protect their home without placing themselves in the snake's path.

The jackal lowered his head and thought.

“A small bird cannot defeat a cobra by force,” he said at last. “But the snake has chosen a hollow that can also become a trap. You need to bring someone stronger to that exact place—and give them a reason to look inside.”

He told the crows about the royal lotus pond beyond the fields. Members of the king's household sometimes rested there and placed their ornaments on cloth beside the water.

“Take one bright object while the attendants are watching,” the jackal advised. “Fly slowly enough for them to follow you. Then drop it into the hollow and move far away. They will come to recover what belongs to the palace.”

The crows listened closely. It was a daring plan, but no one would need to challenge the snake alone.

That afternoon, the crow-hen flew toward the royal garden. She found a quiet lotus pond bordered by pale stone steps. A royal woman and her attendants were resting nearby, and on a folded cloth lay a simple gold chain.

The crow-hen circled once to study the path home. Then she swept down, caught the chain carefully in her beak and rose into the air.

The attendants called to the palace guards. The crow-hen did not fly as fast as she could. She kept low over the path so the guards could see the flash of gold and follow her across the fields.

At the banyan tree, she flew straight toward the roots. The black snake rested inside its hollow. Without landing, the crow-hen released the chain. It slipped through the opening and fell beside the snake.

Then she rose to the highest branch and waited with her husband at a safe distance.

The guards reached the tree and saw the gold chain gleaming inside the hollow. They also saw the cobra beside it.

Working together, they used long wooden staffs and a strong woven basket to guide the snake out without approaching its fangs. They closed the basket securely and carried the cobra far beyond the royal gardens, away from homes and nesting trees. Then they recovered the chain and returned it to the palace.

At last, the banyan roots were quiet.

The crows thanked their jackal friend. His plan had succeeded because it used careful observation, good timing and the help of others instead of a hopeless contest of strength.

In the following season, three chicks hatched in the high nest. Their parents still watched over them closely, but they no longer feared the hollow below. The young birds grew beneath the green leaves, listening to the river and learning to spread their wings.

The crow-hen never forgot that asking for wise advice had saved her family. The crow never forgot that protecting a home sometimes requires patience rather than force. And the jackal was glad that a thoughtful plan had brought peace back to his friends' tree.