Raktamukha, a monkey, lived in a jamun tree beside a river. One day a crocodile called Karalamukha rested below it. The monkey shared ripe fruit, and soon the two began to talk every afternoon.
The crocodile took some fruit home. Later, he was persuaded to harm the monkey. He knew that this would betray his friend, but he still invited the monkey to visit the far bank. ‘I can carry you,’ he offered.
The monkey climbed onto the crocodile’s back. Partway across the river, the crocodile revealed his harmful plan. The monkey felt frightened, but he paused before speaking. He needed a way back to safety.
‘If that is what you want,’ the monkey said, ‘we must return to my tree first.’ He invented a reason that made the crocodile turn around. As soon as they reached the bank, the monkey climbed into the branches.
From his safe perch, he spoke plainly. ‘I offered friendship. You hid a plan to hurt me. I will not come with you again.’ The crocodile apologised, but the monkey kept his boundary.
The monkey could remain generous without ignoring danger. Trust, he had learned, grows from honest actions—not only friendly words.