The Kancil and the Crocodile
In the lush, green rainforests of Southeast Asia, there lived a tiny creature known as Sang Kancil, the Mousedeer. Though he was no bigger than a kitten, he was famous for being the cleverest animal in the jungle. One afternoon, Sang Kancil stood at the edge of a wide, churning river. On the far bank, trees were heavy with ripe, juicy rambutans and starfruit. His mouth watered, but there was a problem: the river was infested with Sang Buaya—the crocodiles.
As Sang Kancil peered into the water, a massive, jagged head broke the surface. It was the leader of the crocodiles, his yellow eyes fixed on the tiny mousedeer. "Looking for a snack, Kancil?" the crocodile hissed. "Because we certainly are."
Sang Kancil didn't panic. He took a deep breath and smiled. "Actually, Sang Buaya, I am here on official business. The Raja has declared a great feast, and he wants to count all the crocodiles in the river so he can prepare enough meat for everyone. It is a great honour, but I must have an accurate count immediately."
The crocodiles, being greedy and not particularly bright, were thrilled at the idea of a royal feast. "How shall we be counted?" they asked. Sang Kancil instructed them to line up side-by-side, from one bank of the river to the other, so he could walk across their backs and count them fairly. The crocodiles obeyed, snapping into a long, scaly bridge that stretched across the water.
Sang Kancil hopped onto the first crocodile's back. "One!" he shouted. He jumped to the next. "Two!" He continued across the river, counting loudly as he leaped. The moment his hooves touched the grass on the far bank, he turned around and laughed. "Thank you for the bridge, Sang Buaya! There is no feast—but there is plenty of fruit for me!" Before the angry crocodiles could splash ashore, Sang Kancil had vanished into the trees, proving once again that a small mind is faster than a big set of jaws.
