"My friend," he exclaimed after a while, "I will catch you yet."

Then he ran and got his tools (for Brother Goat was something of a
carpenter in those days) and made a large doll out of laurel wood.
When the doll was finished, he spread tar on it here and there, on
the right and on the left, and up and down. He smeared it all over
with the sticky stuff, until it was as black as a Guinea negro.

This finished, Brother Goat waited quietly until evening. At
sunset he placed the tarred doll near the well, and ran and hid
himself behind the trees and bushes. The moon had just risen, and
the heavens twinkled with millions of little star-torches.

Brother Rabbit, who was waiting in his house, believed that the
time had come for him to get some water, so he took his bucket and
went to Brother Goat's well. On the way he was very much afraid
that something would catch him. He trembled when the wind shook
the leaves of the trees. He would go a little distance and then
stop and listen; he hid here behind a stone, and there behind a
tuft of grass.

At last he arrived at the well, and there he saw the little negro.
He stopped and looked at it with astonishment. Then he drew back a
little way, advanced again, drew back, advanced a little, and
stopped once more.

"What can that be?" he said to himself. He listened, with his long
ears pointed forward, but the trees could not talk, and the bushes
were dumb. He winked his eyes and lowered his head: