In times of conflict, those who understand the ways of the world praise only the slaying of enemies who cause harm—when such acts are well executed, well undertaken, well fought, and thoroughly pursued. When crisis arises, one must act without hesitation; it is never wise to underestimate an enemy, however weak he may seem, for even a small fire can destroy an entire forest if it finds shelter, just as blindness or deafness may befall one unexpectedly. If an enemy is within one's control, one should use whatever means necessary—perhaps making a bow of grass, sleeping on a deer’s bed, or employing conciliation—to bring about his end. Yet, compassion is not to be shown to an enemy who has sought refuge, for such mercy only emboldens him, and from the unharmed arises no fear. Enemies, and those who have previously caused harm, should be destroyed—even by gifts if necessary—and sometimes it is best to eliminate three, five, or seven of the opposing side entirely. The wise always seek to cut off the very root of the opposition, and then, after the root is severed, they turn to all allies and supporters. When the foundation is destroyed, all who depend on it perish; just as branches cannot live when the root of a tree is cut. A king, therefore, must be single-minded, discreet, ever watchful for opportunities, and act with constant vigilance regarding his rivals. Sometimes, by establishing sacred fires, performing sacrifices, adopting the garb of ascetics—ochre robes, matted hair, and deer skin—one wins the trust of the people, only to later plunder like a wolf. In the pursuit of wealth, sorrow is the goad that urges one on; as one bends down a fruitful branch, one must pluck the ripe fruit again and again. For the wise, all undertakings are for the sake of their fruit. Thus, one should bear an enemy on one’s shoulder until the time is ripe, and when that moment comes, break him as one would an object upon a stone. An enemy should not be released, even if he pleads in misery; no pity should be shown, and the wrongdoer must be slain. Whether by conciliation, gifts, division, punishment, or any means necessary, one should subdue his foe. But how, O King, can an enemy be slain? Listen, then, to a tale of cunning and strategy. There was once a jackal, expert in the science of policy, and a wise fox, skilled in seeking his own advantage. They lived together in the forest with their companions—the tiger, the mouse, the wolf, and the bear. One day, they spotted a mighty leader of deer, whom the tiger had often tried to hunt, but the deer was young, swift, and intelligent—too clever to be caught. The jackal devised a plan: “Let the mouse gnaw at the deer’s feet while he sleeps. Then, when his feet are weakened, the tiger can seize him, and we shall all feast, our hearts rejoicing.” The group followed the jackal’s advice; the mouse ate the deer’s feet, and the tiger slew him. When the deer lay lifeless on the ground, the jackal said, “Go bathe and return safely; I will guard the body.” Trusting the jackal’s words, the others went to the river, leaving him deep in thought. The tiger, having bathed first, returned and saw the jackal troubled. “Why do you grieve, O wise one?” asked the tiger. “Are you not the best among the intelligent? After eating the flesh today, we shall roam about.” But the jackal replied, “Listen to what the mouse said, O mighty-armed one. Shame on the lion’s strength, for today this deer was killed by me. Relying on my own strength, I will be satisfied today. Hearing such boasting, I no longer desire to eat the meat. If he truly speaks so, and I am now awakened at this time, relying on my own strength, I will kill the forest-dwellers. I will eat the flesh there,” he said, and set out into the forest. At that moment, the mouse arrived. The jackal addressed him, “Listen, O mouse, may good befall you. Hear what the mongoose said here: ‘I will not eat the deer’s flesh; I do not desire such pride. I will eat the mouse; let this be approved by you.’” Hearing this, the frightened mouse fled into his hole. Then the wolf, having bathed, arrived. The jackal warned him, “The lion is enraged; it will not be good for you. He comes here leaving everyone terrified; do what you must next.” Thus urged, the wolf seized a portion and departed. At that moment, the mongoose arrived. The jackal said to him, “Relying on their own strength, they have been defeated and have gone elsewhere. Having given me single combat, you may eat the flesh as you wish.” The mongoose replied, “Since you have defeated the heroes, you are braver than they; I too am not able to fight you,” and departed. When all had left, the jackal, his mind delighted, ate the flesh alone, having achieved his aim through counsel and cunning. Acting thus always, one prospers happily, O king.