to bite the goose to death!" said he.

Certainly the one who was surprised when he saw what a pointed nose, and
heard what a hoarse and angry voice that dog which he was pursuing
had,--was the boy! But now he was so enraged because the fox had made
fun of him, that he never thought of being frightened. He took a firmer
hold on the tail, braced himself against a beech trunk; and just as the
fox opened his jaws over the goose's throat, he pulled as hard as he
could. Smirre was so astonished that he let himself be pulled backward a
couple of steps--and the wild goose got away. She fluttered upward
feebly and heavily. One wing was so badly wounded that she could barely
use it. In addition to this, she could not see in the night darkness of
the forest but was as helpless as the blind. Therefore she could in no
way help the boy; so she groped her way through the branches and flew
down to the lake again.

Then Smirre made a dash for the boy. "If I don't get the one, I shall
certainly have the other," said he; and you could tell by his voice how
mad he was. "Oh, don't you believe it!" said the boy, who was in the
best of spirits because he had saved the goose. He held fast by the
fox-tail, and swung with it--to one side--when the fox tried to catch
him.

There was such a dance in that forest that the dry beech-leaves fairly
flew! Smirre swung round and round, but the tail swung too; while the
boy kept a tight grip on it, so the fox could not grab him.

The boy was so gay after his success that in the beginning, he laughed
and made fun of the fox. But Smirre was persevering--as old hunters
generally are--and the boy began to fear that he should be captured in