So Rollo sat down on a mossy bank, and Jonas, having cut down the small
tree, began to work on a larger one that stood near the bank.

After he had cut a little while, Rollo asked him why he did not begin
the bridge.

"I am beginning it," said he.

Rollo laughed at this, but in a minute Jonas called to him to stand
back, away from the bank; and then, after a few strokes more, the top of
the tree began to bend slowly over, and then it fell faster and faster,
until it came down with a great crash, directly across the brook.

"There!" said Jonas, "there is your bridge."

Rollo looked at it with astonishment and pleasure.

"Now," said Jonas, "I will come and help you over."

"No," said Rollo, "I can come over myself. I can take hold of the
branches for a railing."

So Rollo began to climb along the stem of the tree, holding on
carefully by the branches. When he reached the middle of the stream, he
stopped to look down into the water.

"This is a capital bridge of yours, Jonas," said he. "How beautiful the
water looks down here! O, I see a little fish! He is swimming along by a
great rock. Now he is standing perfectly still. O, Jonas, come and see