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The Fox and the Lapp
by
‘Yes, certainly, grandfather,’ replied the fox, ‘if you have patience to suffer what I suffered.’
‘Of course I can,’ replied the bear, ‘what nonsense you talk! Show me the way.’
So the fox led him to the bank of a stream, which, being in a warm place, had only lightly frozen in places, and was at this moment glittering in the spring sunshine.
‘The elves bathe here,’ he said, ‘and if you put in your tail the fish will catch hold of it. But it is no use being in a hurry, or you will spoil everything.’
Then he trotted off, but only went out of sight of the bear, who stood still on the bank with his tail deep in the water. Soon the sun set and it grew very cold and the ice formed rapidly, and the bear’s tail was fixed as tight as if a vice had held it; and when the fox saw that everything had happened just as he had planned it, he called out loudly:
‘Be quick, good people, and come with your bows and spears. A bear has been fishing in your brook!’
And in a moment the whole place was full of little creatures each one with a tiny bow and a spear hardly big enough for a baby; but both arrows and spears could sting, as the bear knew very well, and in his fright he gave such a tug to his tail that it broke short off, and he rolled away into the forest as fast as his legs could carry him. At this sight the fox held his sides for laughing, and then scampered away in another direction. By-and- by he came to a fir tree, and crept into a hole under the root. After that he did something very strange.
Taking one of his hind feet between his two front paws, he said softly:
‘What would you do, my foot, if someone was to betray me?’
‘I would run so quickly that he should not catch you.’
‘What would you do, mine ear, if someone was to betray me?’
‘I would listen so hard that I should hear all his plans.’
‘What would you do, my nose, if someone was to betray me?’
‘I would smell so sharply that I should know from afar that he was coming.’
‘What would you do, my tail, if someone was to betray me?’
‘I would steer you so straight a course that you would soon be beyond his reach. Let us be off; I feel as if danger was near.’
But the fox was comfortable where he was, and did not hurry himself to take his tail’s advice. And before very long he found he was too late, for the bear had come round by another path, and guessing where his enemy was began to scratch at the roots of the tree. The fox made himself as small as he could, but a scrap of his tail peeped out, and the bear seized it and held it tight. Then the fox dug his claws into the ground, but he was not strong enough to pull against the bear, and slowly he was dragged forth and his body flung over the bear’s neck. In this manner they set out down the road, the fox’s tail being always in the bear’s mouth.
After they had gone some way, they passed a tree-stump, on which a bright coloured woodpecker was tapping.
‘Ah! those were better times when I used to paint all the birds such gay colours,’ sighed the fox.
‘What are you saying, old fellow?’ asked the bear.
‘I? Oh, I was saying nothing,’ answered the fox drearily. ‘Just carry me to your cave and eat me up as quick as you can.’
The bear was silent, and thought of his supper; and the two continued their journey till they reached another tree with a woodpecker tapping on it.
‘Ah! those were better times when I used to paint all the birds such gay colours,’ said the fox again to himself.