The Monkey and the Crocodile

On the bank of a wide river in India there grew a rose-apple tree, and in that tree lived a monkey called Raktamukha.

The tree gave the sweetest fruit for miles around. Its rose-apples were pink and juicy and smelled of honey, and the monkey ate them all day long.

One hot afternoon, a crocodile swam up to the bank and rested in the shade beneath the branches.

"You look tired, friend," called the monkey. "Here, try one of these." And he dropped a rose-apple into the water.

The crocodile had never tasted anything so sweet. The monkey dropped another, and another, and soon the two of them were talking and laughing like old friends.

Fruit for a friend

After that, the crocodile came every day. The monkey shared his fruit, and the crocodile told him stories about the river: the deep green pools, the fish that glittered like coins, the island in the middle where he lived with his wife.

Each evening, the monkey sent him home with rose-apples for his wife too.

But the crocodile's wife was not pleased.

"If the fruit is this sweet," she said, "imagine how sweet the heart of the monkey who eats it every day must be. Bring me his heart. I want to eat it."

The crocodile was horrified. "He's my friend," he said.

But his wife sulked and refused to eat, and said she would never be happy again. At last, unhappily, the crocodile gave in.

A ride across the river

The next day he swam to the rose-apple tree.

"My wife wants to thank you for all the fruit," he said. "She has invited you to dinner. Climb on my back and I'll carry you to our island."

The monkey was delighted. He had always wanted to see the island. He jumped onto the crocodile's back and they set off across the river.

The water grew wider and deeper. The bank grew small behind them. And when they were far from the shore, the crocodile began to sink a little lower.

"I'm sorry, friend," he said. "I have to tell you the truth. My wife doesn't want to give you dinner. She wants to eat your heart."

A clever answer

The monkey's heart, which was very much inside him, began to pound. All around was deep water. He could not swim. There was nowhere to run.

But he did not scream or struggle. He took a slow breath and thought.

Then he laughed. "Oh, my dear friend! Why didn't you tell me before we left? Didn't you know that monkeys never carry their hearts around with them? It's far too precious. I keep mine safe in the hollow of the rose-apple tree."

"You do?" said the crocodile.

"Of course! Take me back and I'll fetch it for your wife at once."

The crocodile, who was not very clever, turned round and swam back to the bank as fast as he could.

The moment they reached the tree, the monkey leapt off his back, raced up the trunk and sat on the highest branch.

"You foolish crocodile!" he called down. "Nobody's heart lives in a tree. A friend who would carry me off to be eaten is no friend at all. Go home, and don't come back."

The crocodile swam away, ashamed. And the monkey stayed in his tree, a little sadder and a lot wiser, eating rose-apples by himself.

About this tale

The Panchatantra is a collection of animal fables from ancient India, written in Sanskrit to teach young princes how to live wisely. Its stories travelled across Persia, Arabia and Europe and are among the most widely retold stories in the world. This version is a shortened, simplified retelling.