Part 2

Now in the forest close to the farmyard there lived a Fox who had often gazed with longing eyes upon the plump and handsome bird. His mouth watered every time he thought of him, and many were the artful tricks he played to try and catch him for his dinner. One day he hid himself among the bushes in the garden by the farmyard and waited patiently until the Cock happened to stray his way. After a time the bird came along, pecking here and pecking there, wandered through the gate into the garden, and made straight for the bush under which Master Fox was hidden. He was just going to run into the bush after a butterfly which was fluttering about, when he caught sight of Reynard's black snout and cunning, watchful eyes, and with a squeak of alarm he jumped aside, just in time, and hopped on to the wall.

At this the Fox rose to his feet. "Don't go away, my dear friend," said he in honeyed tones. "I would not for the world do you any harm. I know that it is my bad fortune to be disliked by your family--I can't for the life of me think why, and it is a pity, because I have to hide myself for the pleasure of hearing you sing. There is no cock in all these parts has such a magnificent voice as yours, and I simply do not believe the stories they tell about you."

"Eh, what is that?" said the Cock, stopping at a safe distance and looking at the Fox with his head on one side. "What do they say?"

"Why," Reynard went on, edging a little nearer, "they tell me that you can only crow with your eyes open. They say that if you were to shut your eyes, that clarion call of yours would become only a feeble piping, like the clucking of a new-born chick. But of course I don't believe them. Any one can see they are merely jealous."

"I should think so," cried the Cock, bristling with anger. "Crow with my eyes shut, indeed! Why, I never crow in any other way. Just look here--I'll prove it to you!" And he raised himself on his toes, stretched out his neck, closed his eyes, and was just going to crow, when, _Snap!_ the Fox sprang upon him and caught him in his teeth!

Then began a great to-do! The poor cock flapped his wings and struggled as the Fox ran off with him. The hens ran about the yard clucking and squawking, and the noise they made alarmed the farmer's wife, who was cooking in the kitchen. Out she came running, with the rolling-pin in her hand, and, seeing the fox with the cock in his mouth, gave chase, shrieking as she ran. The farm-hands tumbled out of barn and byre armed with pitch-forks, spades, and sticks. All the beasts began to raise a clatter, and what with the shouting of the men, the squealing of the pigs, the neighing of the horses, and the lowing of the cows, to say nothing of the clucking of the hens and the old woman's screaming, one would have thought the end of the world was at hand.

The Fox was not a little frightened by all this clatter, but he was not so frightened as the Cock, who saw that only cunning would save his life.

"They will catch us in a minute," he said to the Fox, "and, as likely as not, we shall both be killed by a single blow. Why don't you call out and tell them I came with you of my own accord?"

"A good idea," thought the Fox, and he opened his mouth to call out to his pursuers, thereby loosening his grip on the Cock's neck. Then, with a squirm and a twist and a flutter of his wings, the wily bird wrenched himself free and flew up to the branches of a tree near by.

The Fox cast a look at him and saw that he was out of reach; then he glanced over his shoulder at his pursuers, who were getting perilously near. "It seems to me," he said, grinning with rage, "I should have done better to hold my tongue."

"That is true," said the Cock to himself as he smoothed his ruffled feathers. "And I would have been better advised to keep my weather-eye open."

THE MOST CUNNING ANIMAL

One day the Fox and the Bear began to argue as to which was the most cunning animal. The Bear said that he thought foxes and bears took first place.

"You are wrong, my friend," said Reynard. "We are clever, you and I, but there is one animal that is as far above us as we are above the rest of creation."

"Oh, indeed," sneered the Bear, "and what is the name of this marvellous creature?"

"He is called the man-animal," answered Reynard, "and he goes on two legs instead of four, which is a wonderful thing in itself. Here are some of the cunning things he can do; first, he can swim in the water without getting wet; when he is cold he makes yellow flowers grow out of sticks to warm himself; and he can strike at an enemy a hundred yards away!"

"I do not believe you," answered the Bear. "This is a fairy-tale you are telling me. If such a creature as the man-animal really exists, it is very strange that I have never seen him!"

"Strange, indeed!" grinned the Fox, "but soon remedied. Would you like to see the man-animal?"

"It would be a sight for sore eyes," said the Bear.

"Very well," said the Fox, "come along with me." And he led the Bear through the forest until they came to a road leading to a village. "Now, then," said he, "let us lie down in the ditch and watch the road, and we shall see what we shall see."

Presently a child from the village came along.

"Look! Look!" whispered the Bear. "An animal walking on two legs! Is this the creature we seek?"

"No," answered the Fox, "but one of these days it will become a man-animal."

Shortly afterwards there came along an old woman, all bent and wrinkled.

"Is that one?" asked the Bear.

"No," said the Fox again, "but once upon a time that was the mother of one!"

At last there came the sound of brisk footsteps on the road, and peeping out between the bushes the Bear saw a tall soldier in a red coat marching towards them. He had a sword by his side and a musket over his shoulder.

"This must surely be the man-animal," said the Bear. "Ugh! what an ugly creature! I don't believe he is cunning in the least!" But the Fox made no answer, for at the first sight of the soldier he had fled into the forest.

"Well, well," muttered the Bear, "I don't see anything to be afraid of here. Let us have a talk with this wonder!" And hoisting himself clumsily out of the ditch he lumbered along the road to meet the soldier.

"Now then, my fine fellow," he growled, "I have heard some wonderful stories about you. Tell me...."

But before he could get another word out of his mouth the soldier drew his sword and struck him such a shrewd blow that he cut off his ear.

"Wow!" cried the Bear, "what's that for? Tell me...." But then, seeing the gleaming steel flash once again, he turned tail and ran off as fast as he could go. Just as he reached the edge of the wood, he looked backward and saw the soldier raise his gun to his shoulder. There was a flash, a loud report, and the Bear felt a terrific blow against his side. Down he went like a ninepin, but fortunately for him the bullet had merely glanced off his hide, and he was not seriously hurt. Picking himself up, he lost no time in gaining the shelter of the trees, and presently came limping painfully to the place where the Fox was waiting for him.

"Well, my friend," said Reynard, "did you see the man-animal? And what did you think of him?"

"You were right," answered poor Bruin sadly. "He is certainly the most cunning creature in the world. I went up to speak to him and he tore a rib from his side and cut off my ear. Then I ran away, but before I could reach the trees he picked up a stick and pointed it at me. Then there came thunder and lightning, and a piece of the earth heaved itself up and knocked me spinning! Beyond all doubt the man-animal takes the palm for cunning, but I never want to see him again, for I shall carry the marks of our first meeting to my dying day."

And Reynard grinned, and said: "I told you so!"

SPONSKEN AND THE GIANT

There was once a lad whose face was so badly pitted by the smallpox that everybody called him Sponsken, which means little sponge. From the very day of his birth Sponsken had been a great cause of anxiety to his parents, and as he grew older he became more trouble still, for he was so full of whims and mischief that one never knew where one had him. He would not learn his lessons, nor work at any serious task for ten minutes on end. All he seemed to think of was cutting capers and playing practical jokes on people. At last, in despair, his parents told their trouble to the village sexton, who was a great friend of the family, and often came to smoke his pipe with Sponsken's father in the chimney corner.

"Don't worry, my friends," said the sexton. "I've seen young men like your son before, and they are quite easy to manage if one only goes about it the right way. Just leave him to me. What he wants is a good fright, and I'll make it my business to see that he gets it."

So far so good. Sponsken's parents were only too glad to fall in with any plan which seemed likely to reform their unruly son, so the sexton went off to make his arrangements. That night he whitened his face with flour, covered himself in a white sheet, and hid behind a tree on a road along which he knew Sponsken would have to pass.

It was the dark of the moon, and the place the sexton had chosen was very lonely. For a long time he waited; then, hearing Sponsken coming along whistling a merry tune, he sprang out suddenly from behind his tree and waved his arms in a terrifying manner.

"Hallo!" said Sponsken. "Who are you?"

The sexton uttered a hollow groan.

"What's the matter?" said the boy. "Are you ill? If you can't speak, get out of my way, for I am in a hurry."

The sexton groaned again, louder than before, and waved his arms wildly.

"Come, come," cried Sponsken, "I can't stay here all night. Tell me what you want at once and let me pass." Then, as the ghostly figure made no answer, he struck it a blow with the stout ash-stick which he carried, and the poor sexton fell, stunned, to the ground. Sponsken stayed long enough to take a glimpse of the ghost's face and to recognize the features of the sexton beneath the flour; then he went on his way homeward, whistling as merrily as before.

When he reached home his parents gazed at him uneasily. They were very anxious about the success of their friend's plan, but Sponsken did not look at all like a lad who had been frightened--quite the contrary in fact, for he drew his chair up to the table and set to work upon his supper with an excellent appetite.

"A funny thing happened to me to-night," he said carelessly between two bites of an onion. "As I was walking along the lonely road by the cemetery a white figure jumped out at me."

"A wh-white figure!" stammered his father. "How terrifying! And what did you do, my son?"

"Do?" said Sponsken cheerfully. "Why, I fetched him a crack on the skull with my staff. He went down like a ninepin, and I warrant he won't try to frighten travellers again!"

"Base, ungrateful boy!" cried his father, rising to his feet. "It was my dear friend Jan the sexton you struck. All I hope is that you have not killed him."

"Well, if I have, it is his own fault," answered Sponsken. "He should not play tricks on me." But his father continued to rage and grumble so long that Sponsken got tired of hearing him at last, and flung off to bed in a sulk.

"I'll stand no more of this," he said to himself. "Since my own people do not appreciate me, I'll go out and seek my own fortune in the world, and they may go on as best they can."

The next morning, therefore, having packed a loaf of bread and a piece of cheese in a bag, Sponsken set off on his travels, telling nobody where he was going, and taking nothing else with him except a sparrow which he had tamed and kept since it was a fledgling. After walking for a long time he came to a forest, and feeling rather tired he sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree to rest.

Now in this forest lived a giant who was the most hideous creature one could possibly imagine. From his forehead jutted a pair of horns; his features were more like those of a beast than a man, and his finger-nails grew long and curved like the claws of a wild animal. The giant considered himself lord of the whole wood, and was very jealous lest anybody should enter his domain. When, therefore, he saw Sponsken he was very angry, and having pulled up a young tree by the roots to serve him as a club, he approached the young man, who was sitting with his eyes closed, and struck him a heavy blow on the shoulder.

In spite of appearances, Sponsken was not asleep; he was far too wary a person to be caught napping under such conditions. As a matter of fact, he had seen the giant before the giant saw him, and he knew that his only chance of escape was to remain unperturbed and calm. When, therefore, the giant struck him on the shoulder, he opened his eyes sleepily, rubbed the place, and said with a yawn: "A pest on these flies! They bite so hard that a fellow can't sleep for them."

"You shall sleep soundly enough in a minute!" muttered the giant, who was enraged at Sponsken's nonchalance. "See how you like this!" And he gave the lad a blow on the other shoulder, harder than before.

"There they are again!" cried Sponsken, rubbing the place. "My word! They bite even harder on this side than on the other. It is time I was going!" And he rose from his seat, starting back with surprise as he affected to see the giant for the first time.

"So it's you, is it?" he cried. "What do you mean by tickling me when I am trying to sleep? If I were not so kind-hearted I'd break your neck for you!"

"Have a care what you say," cried the giant. "Do you know that I have the strength of twenty men and could crush you between my hands like a kitten?"

"Pooh!" said Sponsken. "Words are windy things. I have no doubt you could kill a whole regiment with your breath. But words won't go with me, my man; you must give me some proof of your prowess."

"Proof!" roared the giant. "See here! I can throw a stone so high into the air that it will not come down for a quarter of an hour." And he was as good as his word, for, picking up a large stone, he flung it with all his strength, and it was more than a quarter of an hour before it fell again at their feet.

"Can you match that?" asked the giant with a grin.

"Easily," said Sponsken. "I will throw a stone so high that it will not come down at all!" Bending to the ground he picked up a pebble and showed it to the giant, but very cleverly he managed at the last moment to exchange it for the sparrow which he carried in his pocket, and this he was able to do because the giant was rather short-sighted, and, if truth be told, slow-witted as well.

"One, two, three!" cried Sponsken, and he tossed the bird into the air, and of course it flew up and up and never came down at all.

"Well, well," said the giant, "I never saw such a thing as that in my life before. You are certainly a wonderful stone-thrower, little man. But can you do this?" And picking up another stone, he squeezed it so hard between his immense fists that he crushed it into a fine powder.

"Yes, that is hard to do," said Sponsken, "but I think I can go one better. Any oaf, if he be strong enough, can crush a stone to powder, but it requires skill as well as strength to wring the juice out of one. Watch me!" So saying, Sponsken adroitly slipped out his piece of cheese, and squeezed it until the whey dripped from between his fingers.

"Marvellous!" said the giant. "I confess myself beaten. Let us go into partnership, for there cannot be two others like us in the whole world."

"Willingly," answered Sponsken, "but what are we to do?"

"Why, as for that," said the giant, "the King of this country has promised his daughter's hand in marriage, and a great treasure besides, to anybody who can destroy three ferocious beasts which are devastating his realm. It seems to me that this is a task we can quite well do together. You, with your quickness and skill, can trap the beasts, and I can kill them with my club. That done, we will divide the spoils."

So it was agreed, and without wasting a moment the two took the wood together. Before very long they reached the King's palace, and sent up a message by one of the lords in waiting that they would like to see His Majesty.

"And do you mean to tell me," asked the King, when he had heard the giant's tale, "that you can overcome the three fierce animals by the help of this ugly little pock-marked fellow."

"Hush! Not so loud, for the love of heaven!" whispered the giant. "My friend is very touchy about his appearance, and if he hears you making such slighting remarks it is very likely he will bring the whole of your palace down about your head!"

"You don't say so!" whispered the King in reply, glancing fearfully at the terrible little man. "Well, you are at liberty to try your luck. The three animals are a bear, a unicorn, and a wild boar, and at present they are hidden in the wood close by. There you will find them, but take care of yourselves, for they have already killed scores of my men."

"Don't be afraid," answered the giant, "for us this is as easy as playing a game."

After having partaken of a good meal the two made their way towards the wood in which the animals were hidden.

"We must make a plan," said Sponsken. "Listen to what I propose. You go into the middle of the wood while I remain here on the outskirts; then when you drive the beasts out I will see that they do not escape."

So it was arranged. The giant went forward into the wood, while Sponsken remained outside, waiting to see what would happen. He had not to wait long, for presently there was a crashing and a tearing of undergrowth and a great bear came lumbering towards him. Sponsken did not like the look of the creature at all, and decided to put as much space between them as possible. Looking here and there for a refuge, he spied a big oak-tree, and quickly climbed its trunk and ensconced himself among the branches. Unfortunately the bear had already seen him, and, raising himself on his hind legs with a dreadful roar, he rushed to the tree and began to climb. In another moment Sponsken would have been lost, but by good chance the tree happened to be hollow, so without hesitation the lad let himself down into the trunk, and finding at the bottom a small hole which led to the open air, he was just able to wriggle through it and escape. The bear followed him into the hollow trunk, but the hole at the bottom was too small for him to get out by, and as there was hardly room to move inside the trunk, the angry creature had to stay where he was, waking all the echoes in the forest with his growling.

The next minute the giant came running out of the forest. "Have you seen the bear?" he cried. "I drove him towards you!"

"Don't worry," answered Sponsken coolly; "I've shut him up in the tree there to keep him safe."

The giant rushed to the tree and dispatched the bear with one blow of his great club. Then, pulling out the carcass, he shouldered it, and the two went back to the palace, congratulating each other on the excellent beginning of their enterprise.

There remained now the unicorn and the wild boar. Next day Sponsken and the giant went to the forest again, and since their first plan had been so successful, it was arranged that they should follow exactly the same course. The giant went into the depths of the wood to find the unicorn and drive him out, while Sponsken remained on the borders to capture the animal when he came.

This time the period of waiting was longer, and Sponsken, leaning against the oak-tree, had almost fallen asleep when a clattering of hoofs awakened him, and he sprang aside just in time to escape the unicorn, who, breathing fire from his nostrils, charged down upon him. So great was the impetus of the beast's charge that he could not stop himself, and with a mighty crash he ran full tilt into the tree, driving his horn so far into the trunk that, although he pulled and struggled, he could not wrench himself free.

When the giant came up, Sponsken showed him the animal, which was quickly killed with a single blow of the club.

"Didn't I manage that affair well?" asked Sponsken as they went back to the palace.

"You are a wonder!" answered the giant, and he really believed what he said.

Now only the wild boar remained, and on the following day the two went to the forest to capture him also. Once again the same plan was followed, but this time Sponsken kept his eyes wide open, and when the ferocious beast broke cover he ran as fast as he could in the direction of the royal chapel. The wild boar followed him, and a fearsome creature he looked, I assure you, with his wicked little eyes and his great curved tusks and the hair on his back bristling like the quills of a porcupine.

Through the open door of the chapel Sponsken ran, and the boar, snorting with fury, followed him. Then began a fine chase, round and round the aisles, over the pews, and in and out of the vestries. At last Sponsken seized a chair, and dashing it against a window broke several panes, and so made good his escape. While the boar was still standing stupidly staring at the hole through which he had gone out, Sponsken ran round to the door, which he closed and locked. Then, having broken one or two more panes of glass, he sat down quietly by the chapel wall and began to pare his nails.

A short time afterwards the giant came rushing up.

"Where is the boar? Have you let him get away?" he cried.

"Don't get so excited," answered Sponsken. "The boar is safe enough. He's in the chapel there. I had no other place to put him, so I flung him through the window!"

"What a wonderful little man you are!" said the giant gleefully, and he ran off to kill the boar with one blow of his club. This done, he hoisted the carcass on to his shoulders and took the road to the palace. Half-way there the weight of the boar began to tell, for it was a massive beast, and the giant was forced to stay and rest.

"It is all very well," said he, mopping his streaming brow, "but I think you ought to take a turn with me in carrying this carcass."

"Not I," answered Sponsken. "We made an agreement that my work was done when I captured the beast, and I intend to keep to it."

So the giant had to struggle on as best he could for the rest of the way, grumbling at every step, while Sponsken followed, laughing up his sleeve, and exceedingly thankful that he had escaped the task.

When they reached the palace the two presented themselves before the King and claimed the promised reward. But now a difficulty arose. It was quite easy to divide the treasure, but which of them was to have the Princess?

"I think it should be I," said the giant, "for I killed the three animals."

"Not at all," said Sponsken. "The Princess should be given to me, for I captured the beasts."

"A lot of good your capturing them would have been if I had not killed them!" said the giant.

"How could you have killed them if I had not caught them first?" answered Sponsken. And so the two began to quarrel, and neither would give way, and high words passed between them. Truth to tell, the King was not at all sorry that the dispute had arisen, for he did not very much relish the idea of his daughter marrying either the bestial giant or the pock-marked, ugly little fellow who was his companion.