"Strange food for a fox, isn't it?" said Reynard. "I wish I hadn't
touched the stuff now, for, to tell you the truth, it's lying on my
chest like a load of lead. I swear never to eat it again, although I
know a place, not far from here, where there are immense quantities of
it!"
By this time Bruin was all agog with excitement.
"Nephew," said he, laying his paw on Reynard's shoulder, "show me the
place where that honey is. My mouth is watering at the very thought of
it. I love honey better than anything else in the world, and I'd give
all I possess for a taste of it!"
"You are joking, no doubt," said Reynard laughingly. "How can any one
like such stuff?"
"Joking, am I?" growled Bruin. "Just lead me to the honey and I'll show
you whether I'm joking. I tell you I'd give my eyes and ears for a
taste!"
"Well, if that's the case," said Reynard, "you shall be satisfied.
There's a carpenter not far from here who keeps bees, and from time
immemorial his family have been noted for the excellence of their
honey. I'll take you there, and I'm very glad to be able to render you
this little service. In return, all I ask of you is that you will
speak up for me when I come before the King."
[Illustration: THE POOR BEAST ROARED WITH PAIN]
"Of course I will," answered Bruin. "Let us go at once. I can hardly
contain myself for impatience."
Reynard called upon Bruin to follow him and led the way to the
carpenter's yard. The afternoon was very hot, and the carpenter was
taking a nap after dinner. His yard was empty and in the middle of it
was the trunk of a great oak-tree which he had laid out ready to be cut
up into planks. The trunk was split down the middle, and kept open by
two wedges of wood.
"Here you are!" said Reynard, going up to the tree-trunk. "This is the
place where the carpenter keeps his honey. Put your muzzle in and root
it out from the bottom. Don't eat too much!"
"Never fear," answered Bruin. "I'll be moderate." And he plunged his
head and his two front paws into the crack. The next moment Reynard
knocked out the wedges which kept the two halves of the trunk apart.
They sprang together with the force of a steel spring, catching Bruin
firmly by the nose and paws.
The poor beast roared with pain, making a din that echoed back like
thunder from the mountains. The carpenter woke up from his slumber, and
seizing an axe, ran out into the yard. His wife came tumbling out of
the scullery with a broom in her hand, and people from the neighbouring
village came running to see what all the noise was about. When they saw
that the Bear was a prisoner they fell upon him and began to belabour
him with mighty blows, while the unhappy creature gave himself up for
lost. Maddened with pain, he redoubled his efforts to tear himself
free, and at last succeeded in getting away, although he left most of
the skin of his nose and paws behind. With the blood flowing from his
muzzle, and his eyes shining red with rage, he made such a terrible
picture that the people fled hither and thither, leaving him a free
passage, and he limped off into the shelter of the woods, moaning and
breathing out threats against his betrayer.
From a safe distance Reynard watched him go, with a malicious grin.
"Farewell, Uncle Bear," said he. "I hope you found the honey good!"