4
The next day, the animals of the forest spoke of nothing but Two-Legs. They one and all had something to complain of:
“He took my whole nest, the other day, with seventeen new-laid eggs in it,” said the hen.
“There are no fish left in the river,” said the otter. “And one gets bludgeoned into the bargain.”
“One can no longer graze in peace in the meadows,” said the stag.
But, if sorrow and terror reigned among the larger, important animals, some of the smaller, insignificant animals did not mind so much and, in fact, were rather amused at the misfortunes of their betters:
“Why should we care?” asked the fly. “Let the big ones eat one another up as they please: it doesn’t concern us in any case. And I, for my part, would rather have Two-Legs than the nightingale.”
“No one is safe,” said the bee. “He took my honey yesterday.”
“Yes,” said the earth-worm. “And, the day before that, he took my own brother, stuck him on a hook and caught a perch with him.”
