The Heron that Liked Crab Meat
Adapted from The Panchatantra, Book 1, translated by Arthur W. Ryder
In a certain region, there was a large lake filled with fish. The lake was surrounded by lush vegetation and served as home to many water creatures. On the shore of this lake lived an old heron who had lost his strength and agility with age.
No longer able to catch fish with the speed and precision of his youth, the heron stood at the edge of the lake, looking dejected. His once-sharp reflexes had dulled, and hunger gnawed at him constantly. As he contemplated his situation, he realized he needed to devise a clever plan if he was to survive.
“Without strength or speed,” he thought to himself, “I must use my wits to catch fish. I cannot chase them as I once did, but perhaps I can trick them instead.”
So the heron stood motionless at the edge of the lake, appearing to be deep in meditation. He remained perfectly still, with tears streaming down his face. A crab noticed the heron’s unusual behavior and slowly approached him from the water’s edge.
“Uncle Heron,” said the crab, “why are you standing here today without hunting? You look like you’re in mourning rather than searching for food.”
The heron sighed deeply before responding. “My child,” he said with a trembling voice, “I have given up the desire for food. I am simply awaiting death.”
Curious about this strange statement, the crab asked, “What has caused this change in you? Why have you lost your will to live?”
The heron looked down at the crab with sorrowful eyes. “I overheard some fishermen talking as they passed by the lake yesterday. They were discussing how the lack of rain has caused many lakes to dry up, and they plan to come to this lake tomorrow to catch all the fish. Once they’ve depleted this lake, they’ll move on to other lakes in the region.”
The crab was alarmed by this news. “What will happen to all of us who live in the lake?” he asked.
“That’s why I’m so distressed,” replied the heron. “This lake has been my home for many years. I’ve watched generations of fish grow up here. The thought of all of you being caught in nets and killed breaks my heart. I’m too old to find a new home, so I’ve decided to fast until death takes me.”
The crab hurried back into the lake to share this disturbing news with the fish. A great commotion arose as the fish gathered to discuss their impending doom.
After much anxious discussion, a delegation of fish approached the heron. “Sir,” they said, “is there any way we can escape this terrible fate?”
The heron appeared to consider their question carefully, though he had already planned his answer. “Well,” he said hesitantly, “there is another lake about two miles from here. It’s deep and clear, filled with lotus flowers, and hidden from human view. If you could reach it, you would be safe. But I don’t see how you could travel there without water.”
The fish, desperate for salvation, begged the heron, “You are our only hope! Please help us reach this safe haven. You could carry us there one by one in your beak. We would be forever grateful.”
The heron feigned reluctance. “I am old and weak,” he said, “but out of compassion for you, I will do what I can to save as many of you as possible.”
And so the deception began. Each day, the heron would pick up a fish in his beak, pretending to carry it to the new lake. Instead, he would fly to a large rock some distance away, where he would eat the fish at his leisure. Then he would return to the lake for another victim, telling the remaining fish that their friend was happily settled in the new home.
Day after day, the heron grew fatter while the population of fish in the lake dwindled. The fish, in their desperation, never suspected the heron’s treachery.
Eventually, the crab approached the heron. “Uncle Heron,” he said, “you have taken so many fish to safety, but I remain here facing danger. Would you please carry me to the new lake as well?”
The heron had not planned on eating the crab, as he preferred fish. But he thought to himself, “I’m getting tired of fish every day. A change in diet might be nice.” So he agreed to transport the crab.
“Climb onto my back,” the heron told the crab, “and hold on carefully with your claws. I’ll fly you to the new lake.”
The crab climbed onto the heron’s back and gripped firmly with his claws. As they flew, the crab could see the landscape below. Soon, he noticed a large rock covered with fish bones—countless bones scattered everywhere. There was no sign of a lotus-filled lake anywhere.
Immediately, the crab realized the heron’s deception. “So this is what happened to all my friends,” he thought. “This treacherous bird has been eating them all along!”
The crab knew he had to act quickly. As the heron began to descend toward the rock, the crab seized the bird’s long, thin neck in his powerful claws and squeezed with all his might. His sharp pincers cut through the heron’s throat before the bird could even cry out.
With his last breath, the heron croaked, “I should have stuck to my diet of fish and not given in to the temptation of variety.”
The crab made his way back to the lake, dragging the dead heron with him. When he arrived, he explained to the remaining fish what had happened. “This deceitful heron has been eating our friends all along,” he announced. “There is no second lake. He was carrying each fish to that rock over there and devouring them one by one.”
The fish were shocked but relieved that the crab had uncovered the truth and ended the heron’s deadly scheme. They celebrated their survival and mourned their lost companions.
This tale teaches that deceit may succeed for a while, but eventually leads to downfall. Those who prey on the trust and desperation of others often meet a fitting end. It also shows that even in desperate situations, it’s important to verify information rather than acting solely out of fear.
