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A newt that had fallen asleep whilst sunbathing on a rock awoke to find the paw of a young wolf clamping it to the surface. When it begged for mercy the arrogant wolf asked why it, the most feared creature in the forest, should spare anything as worthless as a newt. “Because,” said the newt, which after all had nothing to lose, “I am better than you.”
The wolf was so angered by this response that it almost despatched the newt’s life there and then. But at the same time it was intrigued by such an outrageous claim. “Tell me three ways in which a newt is superior to a wolf and I shall let you go,” it said. “If you fail to convince me, instant death will be your reward.”
The newt thought for a moment, and then said: “Newts are equally at home on land and in the water. Not so the mighty wolf.” The wolf, who had no liking for water beyond drinking it, grudgingly conceded the point. “What else?” it growled.
“If I lose a leg or my tail in a fight with an enemy, I can grow another almost at once,” said the newt. “But can the wolf?” The wolf shook its head reluctantly. “That’s only two ways,” it replied, baring its wicked teeth.
“Newts can run faster than wolves.”
This was too much for the proud and vain wolf, who couldn’t resist a challenge. It pointed to a tree some fifty metres away. “I’ll race you to that tree, and then I’ll eat you.” And with that it was off, its long legs flashing across the grass, its tail stretched out behind it.
The newt slowly stood up and shook its bruised body. Then it scurried into an almost invisible crack in the rock face and disappeared safely from view. As for the young wolf, outwitted by its tiny adversary, it was left to reflect that size isn’t everything after all.
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