Dusk was settling over the edge of the village. A scrawny little jackal named Khenku was nosing around a yard for scraps. Suddenly, from inside — “Shoo! Shoo! Get out of here!” — and the whack of a broom. Ears drooping, Khenku slipped away behind a bush. “Ah, nobody takes any notice of me. If only I could be somebody big!”
All at once — “Woof! Woof! Woof!” a pack of village dogs came charging. Khenku's heart pounded, dhorash-dhorash! He ran for his life — this alley, that alley, thump-thump-thump. Snapping teeth behind, thick dark ahead. Panting hard, Khenku bolted into a dyer's yard.
In the middle of the yard stood a big vat brimful of blue dye. Not seeing it in the dark — splash! — straight in he went. A moment later Khenku clambered out, wobbling — blue from head to tail! Dye dripped off him, tup, tup. Seeing himself in a little puddle's mirror, he froze — “Oh my! Is that me, or somebody else?”
At dawn the blue Khenku strutted into the forest, chest puffed out. No one had ever seen such a strange blue beast! The tiger, the elephant, the spotted deer — all shrank back in fear. The tiger bowed his head — “Who are you, Your Majesty?” Puffing up even more, Khenku said — “I am a royal beast from across seven seas. From today, I am king of this forest!”
Under a banyan tree, King Khenku sat on a stone throne. The spotted deer brought warm steamed pithas on a banana leaf, the elephant fanned him — ah, such comfort! Just then a fellow jackal — one of his own — peeked from the bushes: “Brother, Khenku, isn't that you?” Lowering his eyes, Khenku told the tiger — “Take them away.” Yet inside, his chest felt strangely hollow.
Deep night. Over the forest rose a moon round as a plate. Somewhere far off a jackal pack called out — “Hukka-hua! Hukka-hua!” Half-asleep, something stirred in Khenku's chest. Before he knew it, he lifted his voice and called back — “Hukka-huaaa!” All around fell silent. The tiger and elephant stared, mouths agape — so the king was... just a jackal!
The forest burst out laughing — “A king? Why, it's just a jackal smeared in blue dye!” Burning with shame, Khenku dashed to the stream. Splash, splash — the water washed all the blue away. Back to his own pack he came, in his own form. The old jackal laughed — “So you're back, Khenku!” And Khenku said — “Here I am.” Remember, friend — however grand the disguise, what you truly are is what's real.