"Not yet, brother," says Alenoushka. "If you drink from the hoofmark
of a cow, you will turn into a little calf, and that would never do.
We must go on till we come to a well. There we will drink and rest
ourselves. There will be trees by the well, and shadows, and we will
lie down there by the quiet water and cool our hands and feet, and
perhaps our eyes will stop burning."

So they went on farther along the track that scorched the bare soles
of their feet, and under the sun that burned their heads and their
little bare necks. The sun was high in the sky above them, and it
seemed to Vanoushka that they would never come to the well.

But when they had walked on and on, and he was nearly crying with
thirst, only that the sun had dried up all his tears and burnt them
before they had time to come into his eyes, he saw another footprint.
It was quite a tiny footprint, divided in the middle--the footprint of
a sheep; and in it was a little drop of clear water, sparkling in the
sun. He said nothing to his sister, nothing at all. But he went down
on his hands and knees and drank that water, that little drop of clear
water, to cool his burning throat. And he had no sooner drunk it than
he had turned into a little lamb...

"A little white lamb," said Maroosia.

"With a black nose," said Vanya.

A little lamb, said old Peter, a little lamb who ran round and round
Alenoushka, frisking and leaping, with its little tail tossing in the
air.