"Once on a time there was a man who lived far, far away in the wood. He
had many, many goats and sheep, but never a one could he keep for fear
of Graylegs, the wolf.
"At last he said, 'I'll soon trap Grayboots,' and so he set to work
digging a pitfall. When he had dug it deep enough, he put a polo down in
the midst of the pit, and on the top of the pole he set a board, and on
the board he put a little dog. Over the pit itself he spread boughs and
branches and leaves, and other rubbish, and a-top of all he strewed
snow, so that Graylegs might not see there was a pit underneath.
"So when it got on in the night, the little dog grew weary of sitting
there: 'Bow-wow, bow-wow,' it said, and bayed at the moon. Just then up
came a fox, slouching and sneaking, and thought here was a fine time for
marketing, and with that gave a jump--head over heels down into the
pitfall.
"And when it got a little farther on in the night, the little dog got so
weary and so hungry, and it fell to yelping and howling: 'Bow-wow,
bow-wow,' it cried out. Just at that very moment up came Graylegs,
trotting and trotting. He, too, thought he should get a fat steak, and
he too made a spring--head over heels down into the pitfall.
"When it was getting on towards gray dawn in the morning, down fell
snow, with a north wind, and it grew so cold that the little dog stood
and froze, and shivered and shook; it was so weary and hungry, 'Bow-wow,
bow-wow, bow-wow,' it called out, and barked and yelled and howled. Then
up came a bear, tramping and tramping along, and thought to himself how
he could get a morsel for breakfast at the very top of the morning, and
so he thought and thought among the boughs and branches till he too went
bump--head over heels down into the pitfall.
"So when it got a little further on in the morning, an old beggar wife
came walking by, who toddled from farm to farm with a bag on her back.
When she set eyes on the little dog that stood there and howled, she
couldn't help going near to look and see if any wild beasts had fallen
into the pit during the night. So she crawled up on her knees and peeped
down into it.
"'Art thou come into the pit at last, Reynard?' she said to the fox, for
he was the first she saw; 'a very good place, too, for such a hen-roost
robber as thou: and thou, too, Graypaw,' she said to the wolf; 'many a
goat and sheep hast thou torn and rent, and now thou shalt be plagued
and punished to death. Bless my heart! Thou, too, Bruin! art thou, too,
sitting in this room, thou mare-flayer? Thee, too, will we strip, and
thee shall we flay, and thy skull shall be nailed up on the wall.' All
this the old lass screeched out as she bent over towards the bear. But
just then her bag fell over her ears, and dragged her down, and slap!
down went the old crone--head over heels into the pitfall.
"So there they all four sat and glared at one another, each in a corner.
The fox in one, Graylegs in another, Bruin in a third, and the old crone
in a fourth.
"But as soon as it was broad daylight, Reynard began to peep and peer,
and to twist and turn about, for he thought he might as well try to get
out. But the old lass cried out,--
"'Canst thou not sit still, thou whirligig thief, and not go twisting
and turning? Only look at Father Bruin himself in the corner, how he
sits as grave as a judge,' for now she thought she might as well make
friends with the bear. But just then up came the man who owned the
pitfall. First he drew up the old wife, and after that he slew all the
beasts, and neither spared Father Bruin himself in the corner, nor
Graylegs, nor Reynard, the whirligig thief. That night, at least, he
thought he had made a good haul."
* * * * *
"The next story," said Peter, "is also out of the wood. It isn't often
that Reynard gets cheated, but even the wisest folk sometimes get the
worst of it, and so it was with Reynard in this story."