A lion named Madotkata ruled a stretch of forest, and around him lived three clever hangers-on — a jackal, a crow and a leopard — who feasted daily on the leavings of the king's hunt. One day a camel named Kradanaka, who had strayed from a merchant's caravan, came wandering into the forest. The three had never seen such a creature and hurried to report it to the lion. But when the gentle camel was brought before the king and told his story, Madotkata's heart softened. “Fear nothing,” said the lion. “You have my protection. Live here freely as one of us.” And so the camel stayed, grazing happily, and grew sleek and strong.
Then misfortune struck: battling a great elephant, the lion was badly wounded. He could no longer hunt, and his followers, who had never hunted for themselves, began to starve. The weakening lion begged them to find some animal he could catch, so that all might eat. They searched and found nothing — but the jackal's hungry eyes kept returning to the plump camel.
“Why should we starve while this grass-eater fattens beside us?” the jackal whispered to the crow. “But the king has given him his word,” said the crow. The jackal smiled slyly. “Leave that to me. I shall make the camel offer himself.” So the schemers went before the hungry lion, and one by one, with folded paws, each offered his own body to save the king — the crow first, then the jackal, then the leopard. Each time, another jumped up to object that so small or so unworthy a meal would not do. It was all a performance, and the trusting camel, moved by such devotion, stepped forward and grandly offered himself, certain that someone would object for him too.
But no objection came. The jackal cried, “Ah, noble camel, this is true loyalty!” — and in an instant the hungry beasts fell upon the poor, faithful creature, and his trust in the flatterers cost him his life. So it is that the innocent who keep company with the cunning are ruined by their honeyed words.