An Eagle sat perched on a lofty rock, keeping a sharp look-out for prey. A huntsman, concealed in a cleft of the mountain and on the watch for game, spied him there and shot an Arrow at him. The shaft struck him full in the breast and pierced him through and through. As he lay in the agonies of death, he turned his eyes upon the Arrow. "Ah! Cruel fate," he cried, "that I should perish thus! But oh! Fate more cruel still, that the Arrow which kills me should be winged with an Eagle's feathers!"
Misfortunes we bring on ourselves are doubly bitter.
