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The Tale of Sekhmet and Two Jackals

Long long ago, in the land of Khem, which nowadays is called by the name of Egypt, two jackals were a-hunting. Long and lean and black and tiny like foxes, they trotted along the rocks and the sands and the baked yellow canyons, out in the desert, away from the green pastures and wheat-fields that gleamed by the great river. They used to hunt geese and ducks by the Nile, but now men lived there, and threw bricks and arrows at the sleek little jackal-thieves. So now jackals hunted in the red lands, in the desert, away from the houses of men, and hunted lizard tails and snake eggs. They had big ears and pointed noses to smell and hear better, so they could hear by the rustle and scurry, and by the sharp smell of poison, whether a stone had yummy lizard or wicked scorpion hiding under it. But now they were always hungry.

Now on this night the two jackals were a-hunting, trotting along on their long thin legs, noses held high. It was cold and still and the sky was like onyx, a black jewel flecked with lights that covered all the world. The dunes were gray and blue, and even the wind was silent.

Then there came a rumble from miles and miles away, and the jackal’s big ears pricked at the distant commotion. They turned their heads and saw a speck of fire in the distance, first no bigger than a star, but growing quickly. An awful rushing sound like an angry sandstorm came to their sharp ears. But the jackals did not run.

The speck of flame grew larger, big as the moon, and cast golden spears of light across the rolling sand-dunes. The dark jackals hunched in the shadows of the sand-dunes, and watched the ball of fire with gleaming black eyes. The sound became a roaring, a dreadful rumbling, that beat on their ears like thunder. And still they did not run.

Now the light drew nigh them, and now they saw the source of it. It was a mighty lioness, bigger than a horse, muscles sleek and rolling like the humps of sand-dunes, tawny hide gleaming with a light of its own. Her two eyes burned red like the sun on the horizon, and she moved so fast she left a trail of fire in her wake. Her paws were large as shields, covering yards with every leap, and her mouth was wide open in a thundrous roar. But the jackals did not run.

They sat and waited, resting on their bellies with their front legs stretched before them, sitting like two sphinxes, still and quiet. So the lioness found them, and loomed over them, and readied herself to pounce and eat them up in one awful gulp. But they never stirred.

Puzzled, the lioness halted, and roared in their faces, and stared down at this prey who did not move. “Why do you not run?” she cried, showing her awful teeth, curved and white like the moon. “I am the mighty Sekhmet, daughter of the Sun-god, and I can eat a kingdom as easily as a king.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the jackals, most politely. “You are the mighty Sekhmet, and can outrun the desert’s sandstorm. And we are mere jackals. Why should we run? You will eat us just the same, but then we would die tired.”

And Sekhmet gave a laugh that nearly knocked off their ears, for her food was usually too frightened to make good conversation. “That is a good answer,” said she, “and you show proper respect for my person. So I will not eat you. I have already eaten my supper tonight, and you’re all skin and bones, not big enough for dessert. In fact, I’ll give you a reward for your bravery, for it’s not easy for something as puny as you to be brave before a great lion like me. I will let you clean the bones of the zebras I killed in the grasslands to the south. There’s not much left, but it should be plenty for you tiny creatures.”

And the jackals bowed their heads and thanked her ever so politely, and she bounded off with her tail lashing behind her in merriment. And did you know? To this day, lions still let jackals follow them a-hunting. Jackal cleans up the scraps, and keeps lion’s table tidy. They’re still skin and bones, and they’re still as small as foxes. But now their fur is red and golden from the fire of the daughter of the sun.