The Cave That Talked

A starving lion, finding nothing to eat all day, discovered a large cave at sunset and decided to hide inside it, reasoning that whatever animal lived there would eventually return home, giving him an easy meal.

The cave's actual resident, a jackal, arrived at the entrance and called out his usual greeting -- a habitual call-and-response ritual he had established with the cave itself, which normally echoed back a greeting whenever he returned. When no reply came this time, the jackal, suspicious, announced loudly that since this cave apparently wouldn't greet him today, he'd simply go find another cave that would.

The hiding lion, not understanding this was a deliberate test, thought he had figured out the trick: he assumed the cave always greeted the jackal, and that answering would lure the jackal close enough to catch. So the lion called out his own imitation of a greeting -- except his massive roar, amplified by the cave's natural echo, thundered out far louder and more terrifying than any cave-echo should have been.

The jackal, far from being fooled, immediately understood exactly what was hiding inside and fled at once, reciting wryly that a long life spent walking the forest had taught him many things, but he had never actually heard of a cave that talked back on its own.

What undid the lion's ambush was not being seen, but being heard too well: an imitation performed without understanding the situation it was mimicking gave away far more than silence would have.