MIKKO, THE FOX
A Nursery Epic in Sixteen Adventures
Osmo, the Bear, grunted out: “Huh! That’s easy! We’ll eat the smallest of us next!”
ADVENTURE I
THE ANIMALS TAKE A BITE
A Farmer once dug a pit to trap the Animals that had been stealing his grain. By a strange chance he fell into his own pit and was killed.
The Ermine found him there.
“H’m,” thought the Ermine, “that’s the Farmer himself, isn’t it? I better take him before any one else gets him.”
So the Ermine dragged the Farmer’s body out of the pit, put it on a sledge, and then, after taking a bite, began hauling it away.
Presently he met the Squirrel who clapped his hands in surprise.
“God bless you, brother!” the Squirrel exclaimed, “what’s that you’re hauling behind you?”
“It’s the Farmer himself,” the Ermine explained. “He fell into the pit that he had digged for us poor forest folk and serve him right, too! Take a bite of him and then come along and help me pull.”
“Very well,” the Squirrel said.
He took a bite of the Farmer and then marched along beside the Ermine, helping him to pull the sledge.
Presently they met Jussi, the Hare. Jussi looked at them in amazement, his eyes popping out of his head.
“Mercy me!” he cried, “what’s that you two are hauling?”
“It’s the Farmer,” the Ermine explained. “He fell into the pit that he digged for us poor forest folk and serve him right, too! Take a bite of him, Jussi, and then come along and help us pull.”
So Jussi, the Hare, took a bite of the Farmer and then marched along beside the Ermine and the Squirrel helping them to pull the sledge.
Next they met Mikko, the Fox.
“Goodness me!” Mikko said, “what’s that you three are hauling?”
“It’s the Farmer. He fell into the pit that he had digged for us poor forest folk and serve him right, too! Take a bite of him, Mikko, and then come along and help us pull.”
So Mikko, the Fox, took a bite and then marched along beside the Ermine and the Squirrel and the Hare helping them to pull the sledge.
Next they met Pekka, the Wolf.
“Good gracious!” Pekka cried, “what’s that you four are hauling?”
The Ermine explained:
“It’s the Farmer. He fell into the pit that he had digged for us poor forest folk and serve him right, too! Take a bite of him, Pekka, and then help us pull.”
So Pekka, the Wolf, took a bite and then marched along beside the Ermine, the Squirrel, the Hare, and the Fox, helping them to pull the sledge.
Next they met Osmo, the Bear.
“Good heavens!” Osmo rumbled, “what’s that you five are hauling?”
“It’s the Farmer,” the Ermine explained. “He fell into the pit that he had digged for us poor forest folk and serve him right, too! Take a bite of him, Osmo, and then help us pull.”
So Osmo, the Bear, took a bite and then marched along beside the Ermine, the Squirrel, the Hare, the Fox, and the Wolf, helping them to pull the sledge.
Well, they pulled and they pulled and whenever they felt tired or hungry they stopped and took a bite until the Farmer was about finished.
Then Pekka, the Wolf, said:
“See here, brothers, we’ve eaten up every bit of the Farmer except his beard. What are we going to eat now?”
Osmo, the Bear, grunted out:
“Huh! That’s easy! We’ll eat the smallest of us next!”
He had no sooner spoken than the Squirrel ran up a tree and the Ermine slipped under a stone.
Pekka, the Wolf said:
“But the smallest have escaped!”
Osmo, the Bear, grunted again:
“Huh! The smallest now is that pop-eyed Jussi! Let’s—”
At mention of his name the Hare went loping across the field and was soon at a safe distance.
Osmo, the Bear, put his heavy paw on the Fox’s shoulder.
“Mikko,” he said, “it’s your turn now for you’re the smallest of us three.”
Mikko, the Fox, pretended not to be at all afraid.
“That’s true,” he said, “I’m the smallest. All right, brothers, I’m ready. But before you eat me I wish you’d take me to the top of the hill. Down here in the valley it’s so gloomy.”
“Very well,” the others agreed, “we’ll go where you say. It is more cheerful there.”
As they climbed the hill the Fox whispered to the Wolf:
“Sst! Pekka! When you eat me whose turn will it be then? Who will be the smallest then?”
“Mercy me!” the Wolf cried, “it will be my turn then, won’t it?”
The terror of the thought quite took his appetite away.
“See here, Osmo,” he said to the Bear, “I don’t think it would be right for us to eat Mikko. You and I and Mikko ought to be friends and live together in peace. Now let’s take a vote on the matter and we’ll do whatever the majority says. I vote that we three be friends. What do you say, Mikko?”
The Fox said that he agreed with the Wolf. It would be much better all around if they three were friends.
“Well,” grunted Osmo, the Bear, “it’s no use my voting for you two make a majority. But I must say I’m sorry to have you vote this way for I’m hungry.”
So the three animals, the Bear, the Wolf, and the Fox, agreed henceforward to be friends and planned to live near each other in the woods behind the Farm.
ADVENTURE II
THE PARTNERS
The Bear and the Wolf and the Fox made houses quite close together and the Wolf and the Fox decided to go into partnership.
“The first thing we ought to do,” said Pekka, the Wolf, “is make a clearing in the forest and plant some crops.”
The Fox agreed and the very next day they started out to work. Each had a crock with three pats of butter for his dinner. They left their crocks in the cool water of a little spring in the forest not far from the place where they had decided to make a clearing.
It was hard work felling trees and the Fox, soon tiring of it, made some sort of excuse to run off. When he came back he said to the Wolf:
“Pekka, the folks at the Farm are having a christening and have sent me an invitation to attend.”
“It’s too bad we’re so busy to-day,” the Wolf said. “Another day you might have gone.”
“But I must go,” the Fox insisted. “They’ve been good neighbors to us and they’d be insulted if I refused.”
“Very well,” the Wolf said, “if you feel that way about it you better go. But hurry back for we have a lot to do.”
So the Fox trotted off but he got no farther than the spring where the butter crocks were cooling. He took the Wolf’s crock and licked off the top layer of butter. Then after a while he went back to the clearing.
“Well, Mikko,” the Wolf said, “is the christening over?”
“Yes, it’s over.”
“What did they name the child?”
“They named it Top.”
“Top? That’s a strange name!”
In a few moments the Fox again ran off and returned with the announcement that there was to be another christening at the Farm and again they wanted him to attend.
“Another christening!” the Wolf exclaimed. “How can that be?”
“This time the daughter has a baby.”
“You’re not going, are you, Mikko? You can’t always be going to christenings.”
“That’s true, Pekka, that’s true,” said the Fox, “but I think I must go this time.”
The Wolf sighed.
“You will hurry back, won’t you? This work is too much for me alone.”
“Yes, Pekka dear,” the Fox promised, “I’ll hurry back as quickly as I can.”
So he trotted off again to the spring and the Wolf’s butter crock. This time he ate the middle pat of the Wolf’s butter, then slowly sauntered back to the clearing.
“Well,” said the Wolf, pausing a moment in his work, “what did they name the baby this time?”
“This one they named Middle.”
“Middle? That’s a strange name to give a baby!”
For a few moments the Fox pretended to work hard. Then he ran off again. When he came back, he said:
“Pekka, do you know they’re having another christening at the Farm and they say that I just must come.”
“Another christening! Now, Mikko, that’s too much! How can they be having another christening?”
“Well, this time it’s the daughter-in-law that has a baby.”
“I don’t care who it is,” the Wolf said, “you just can’t go. You’ve got some work to do, you have!”
The Fox agreed:
“You’re right, Pekka, you’re right! I’m entirely too busy to be running off all the time to christenings! I’d say, ‘No!’ in a minute if it wasn’t that we are new settlers and they are our nearest neighbors. As it is I’m afraid they’d think it wasn’t neighborly if I didn’t come. But I’ll hurry back, I promise you!”
So for the third time the Fox trotted off to the little spring and this time he licked the Wolf’s butter crock clean to the bottom. Then he went slowly back to the clearing and told the Wolf about the christening and the baby.
“They’ve named this one Bottom,” he said.
“Bottom!” the Wolf echoed. “What funny names they give children nowadays!”
The Fox pretended to work hard for a few minutes, then threw himself down exhausted.
“Wake up, Pekka! Wake up! There’s butter running out of your nose!”
“Heigh ho!” he said, with a yawn, “I’m so tired and hungry it must be dinner time!”
The Wolf looked at the sun and said:
“Yes, I think we had better rest now and eat.”
So they went to the spring and got their butter crocks. The Wolf found that his had already been licked clean.
“Mikko!” he cried, “have you been at my butter?”
“Me?” the Fox said in a tone of great innocence. “How could I have been at your butter when you know perfectly well that I’ve been working right beside you all morning except when I was away at the christenings? You must have eaten up your butter yourself!”
“Of course I haven’t eaten it up myself!” the Wolf declared. “I just bet anything you took it!”
The Fox pretended to be much aggrieved.
“Pekka, I won’t have you saying such a thing! We must get at the bottom of this! I tell you what we’ll do: we’ll both lie down in the sun and the heat of the sun will melt the butter and make it run. Now then, if butter runs out of my nose then I’m the one that has eaten your butter; if it runs out of your nose, then you’ve eaten it yourself. Do you agree to this test?”
The Wolf said, yes, he agreed, and at once lay down in the sun. He had been working so hard that he was very tired and in a few moments he was sound asleep. Thereupon the Fox slipped over and daubed a little lump of butter on the end of his nose. The sun melted the butter and then, of course, it looked as if it were running out of the Wolf’s nose.
“Wake up, Pekka! Wake up!” the Fox cried. “There’s butter running out of your nose!”
The Wolf awoke and felt his nose with his tongue.
“Why, Mikko,” he said in surprise, “so there is! Well, I suppose I must have eaten that butter myself but I give you my word for it I don’t remember doing it!”
“Well,” said the Fox, pretending still to feel hurt, “you shouldn’t always suspect me.”
When they went back to the clearing, the Wolf began pulling the brush together to burn it up and the Fox slipped away and lay down behind some brushes.
“Mikko! Mikko!” the Wolf called. “Aren’t you going to help me burn the brush?”
“You set it a-fire,” the Fox called back, “and I’ll stay here to guard against any flying sparks. We don’t want to burn down the whole forest!”
So the Wolf burned up all the brush while the Fox took a pleasant nap.
Then when he was ready to plant the seed in the rich wood ashes, the Wolf again called out to the Fox to come help him.
“You do the planting, Pekka,” the Fox called back, “and I’ll stay here and frighten off the birds. If I don’t they’ll come and pick up every seed you plant.”
So Mikko, the rascal, took another nap while the poor Wolf planted the field he had already cleared and burned.
ADVENTURE III
THE FOX AND THE CROW
In a short time the field that Pekka, the Wolf, had planted began to sprout. Pekka was delighted.
“See, Mikko,” he said to the Fox, “our grain is growing and we shall soon be harvesting it!”
The Fox turned up his nose indifferently.
“If we don’t get something to eat before that grain ripens,” he said, “we’ll starve, both of us! While we wait for the harvest I think we better go out hunting. I’m going this minute for I tell you I’m hungry!”
The Fox went sniffing into the forest and finally came to the tree where Harakka, the Magpie, had her nest. The Fox, cocking his head, paced slowly round and round the tree, looking at it from every angle. Harakka, the Magpie, sitting on her nest among her fledglings began to feel nervous.
“Say, Mikko,” she called down, “what are you looking at?”
At first the Fox made no answer. Deep in thought, apparently, he nodded his head and murmured:
“Yes, the very tree!”
Harakka, the Magpie, again called down:
“What are you looking at, Mikko?”
The Fox started as though he had heard the question for the first time.
“Ah, Harakka, is that you? Good day to you! I hope you are well! I hope the children are all well! I was so busy looking for the right tree that I didn’t recognize you at first. You see I have to cut down a tree to get wood for a new pair of skis. This tree is just the one I want.”
“Oh, mercy me!” the Magpie cried. “You can’t cut down this tree! Do you want to kill all my children? This is our home!”
Mikko, the rascal, pretended to be very sympathetic.
“I’m awfully sorry to have to disturb you, truly I am, but I’m afraid I do have to cut down this tree. I can’t find another that suits me as well.”
The Magpie flapped her wings in despair.
“You hard-hearted wretch! What will you take not to cut down this tree?”
The Fox put his paw to his head and pretended to think hard. After a moment he said:
“Well, Harakka, I’ll make you this offer: I’ll leave this tree standing provided you throw me down one of your fledglings.”
“What!” the poor Magpie shrieked. “Give you one of my babies! I’ll never do that! Never! Never! Never!”
“Oh, very well! Just as you like! If I cut the tree down I can get them all. But I thought for the sake of old times I’d ask for only one. However, do as you think best.”
What could the poor Magpie say? If the tree were felled and her fledglings thrown out of the nest they would certainly all perish. Perhaps it would be wise to sacrifice one to save the rest.
“You promise to let the tree stand,” she said, “if I give you one of my children?”
“Yes,” the rascal promised, “just drop me one of your fledglings, a nice plump one, and I won’t cut down the tree.”
With shaking claw Harakka pushed one of her children over the edge of the nest. It fluttered to the ground and Mikko carried it off.
Well, the next day what did that Fox do but come back and begin pacing around the tree again.
“Yes,” he said, pretending to talk to himself, “this is the best tree I can find. I might as well cut it down at once.”
“But, Mikko!” cried the Magpie, “you forget! You said you wouldn’t cut down this tree if I gave you one of my children and I did give you one!”
The Fox flipped his tail indifferently.
“I know,” he said, “I did promise but I thought then I could find another tree that would suit me as well as this one, but I can’t. I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t. I’m sorry but I’m afraid that I’ll just have to take this tree.”
“O dear, O dear, O dear!” the poor distracted Magpie wept. “Will nothing make you leave this tree stand?”
The Fox smacked his lips.
“Well, Harakka, drop me down another of your fledglings and I won’t disturb the tree. I promise.”
“What! Another of my babies! Oh, you wretch!”
“Well, suit yourself,” Mikko said. “One of your fledglings and you can keep the others safe in the nest, or I’ll cut the tree down.”
What could the poor Magpie do? Wouldn’t it be better to sacrifice another fledgling on the chance of saving the rest? Yes, it would! So she pushed another out of the nest. It fluttered to the ground and Mikko, the rascal, carried it off.
That afternoon Varis, the Crow, came to call on the Magpie.
“Why, my dear,” she said, looking over the fledglings, “two of your children are missing! Whatever has become of them?”
“It’s that rascally Mikko!” the Magpie cried, and thereupon she told her friend the whole story.
Varis, the Crow, listened carefully and then said:
“My dear, that miserable Fox has been fooling you! Why, he can’t cut down this tree or any other tree for that matter! He hasn’t even got an ax! Don’t let him impose on you a third time!”
So the very next day when the Fox came and again tried the same little trick, Harakka, the Magpie, tossed her head scornfully and said:
“Go along, you rascal! You can’t fool me again! How can you cut down this tree or any other for that matter when you haven’t even got an ax!”
The Fox was furious at being cheated of his dinner.
“You didn’t think that out yourself, Harakka!” he said. “Some one’s been talking to you! Who was it?”
“It was my dear friend, Varis,” the Magpie said. “She’s on to your tricks!”
“I’ll teach that Crow to interfere with my affairs!” the Fox muttered to himself as he trotted off.
He went to an open field and lay down with his mouth open, pretending to be dead.
“I’m sure Varis will soon spy me!” he said to himself.
He was right. Presently the Crow began circling above him. She flew nearer and nearer and at last alighted on his head. His tongue was lolling out and Varis decided to have her first bite there. She gave it a sharp peck at which the Fox jumped up and caught her in his paws.
“Ha! Ha!” he cried. “So you’re the one who spoiled my little game with Harakka, are you? Well, I’ll teach you not to interfere with me! As I haven’t got one of Harakka’s fledglings for my dinner, I’m going to take you!”
“You don’t mean you’re going to eat me!” cried the Crow in terror.
“I’ll teach that Crow to interfere with my affairs!” the Fox muttered to himself as he trotted off
“No, no, Mikko! Don’t do that!”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do! I’m going to teach you birds that I’m not an animal to be played jokes on!”
“I suppose,” the Crow said, sighing, “if it must be, it must be! But, Mikko, if you really want to use me as a warning to the other birds, you oughtn’t to eat me right down. It would be much better if you dragged me along the ground first. Then they’d see a wing here, a leg there, and a long trail of feathers. That really would terrify them.”
“I believe you’re right,” the Fox said.
He put the Crow down on the ground and lifted his paw for a moment to change his hold. The Crow instantly jerked away and escaped.
“Ha! Ha!” she cawed as she flew off. “You were clever enough to catch me, Mikko, but you weren’t clever enough to eat me when you had me!”
So this was one time when Mikko, the Fox, was worsted.
ADVENTURE IV
THE CHIEF MOURNER
“Mercy me!” thought Mikko to himself as he watched Varis, the Crow, fly away, “this is certainly my unlucky day! There I had my dinner right in my hand and then lost it!”
Sighing and shaking his head he sauntered slowly back to the forest.
Now it happened that Osmo, the Bear, had just lost his wife and was out looking for some one to bewail her death. The first person he met was Pekka, the Wolf.
“Pekka,” he said, “my wife’s dead and I’m out looking for a good strong mourner. Can you mourn?”
“Me? Indeed I can! Just listen!”
Pekka, the Wolf, pointed his nose to the sky and let out a long shivery howl.
“There!” he said. “I don’t believe you’ll find any one that can do any better than that!”
But Osmo, the Bear, shook his head.
“No, Pekka, you won’t do. I don’t like your mourning at all!”
The Bear ambled on and presently he met the Hare.
“Good day, Jussi,” he said. “Are you any good at mourning? Show me what you can do.”
The Hare gave some frightened squeaks as his idea of mourning the dead.
“No, no,” Osmo said, “I don’t like your mourning either.”
So he walked on farther until by chance he met the Fox.
“Mikko,” he said, “my wife’s dead and I’m out looking for a good strong mourner. Can you mourn?”
And Mikko, beginning with a little whimpering sound, slowly rose to a high heartrending cry
“Can I? Indeed I can!” the Fox declared. “I’m a marvel at mourning! I can wail high and low and soft and loud and just any way you want! Listen!” And Mikko, beginning with a little whimpering sound, [!-- original location of Heartrending Cry illustration --] slowly rose to a high heartrending cry. This is what he wailed:
“Med! Med! Med!
The Bear’s Wife is dead!
Lax! Lax! Lax!
No more she’ll spin the flax!
Eyes! Eyes! Eyes!
No more she’ll bake the pies!
Air! Air! Air!
No more she’ll drive the mare!
Shakes! Shakes! Shakes!
There’ll be no more little cakes!
Darth! Darth! Darth!
Throw the pots on the hearth
For the Bear’s Wife is dead!
Med! Med! Med!”
Osmo, the Bear, was deeply moved.
“Beautiful! Beautiful!” he grunted hoarsely. “How well you knew her! Come along home with me, Mikko, and start right in! Oh, how beautifully you wail!”
So Mikko went home with the Bear. The old Bear Wife was laid out on a bench in the kitchen.
“Now then,” the Bear said, “you begin the wailing while I cook the porridge.”
“No, no, Osmo,” the Fox said, “I couldn’t possibly wail in here! The place is full of smoke and my voice would get husky in two minutes! Can’t you lay her out in the storehouse?”
The Bear demurred but the Fox insisted and at last had his way. So together they dragged the body of the old Bear Wife out to the storehouse. The Fox stood beside the body ready to begin his wailing and the Bear went back to the kitchen.
The moment the Bear was out of sight Mikko, the rascal, instead of bewailing the old Bear Wife began gobbling her up! He just gobbled and gobbled and gobbled as fast as he could.
“What’s the matter?” the Bear called out after a few minutes. “Why don’t you begin?”
The Fox made no reply but kept on gobbling as hard as he could.
“Mikko! Mikko!” the Bear called out again. “What’s the matter? Why aren’t you howling?”
By this time the Fox had made a good dinner, so he called back:
“Don’t bother me! I’m busy eating! Yum! Yum! Yum! Bear meat is awful good! Just give me a few more minutes and I’ll be finished!”
At that the Bear rushed out of the kitchen in a terrible rage but the Fox was already running off and the Bear was unable to catch him. He did hit the end of his tail with the long spoon with which he had been measuring the meal, but that was all.
Mikko, the rascal, got safely away. However, to this day his tail shows the white mark of the meal.
ADVENTURE V
MIRRI, THE CAT
One day while the Fox was out walking in the forest he met a stranger.
“Good day,” he said. “Who are you?”
“I am Mirri,” the stranger said, “a poor unfortunate Cat out of employment. I had service in a decent family but I’ve had to leave them.”
“Did they treat you badly?” the Fox asked.
“No, it wasn’t that. They were considerate enough but they kept getting poorer and poorer until finally they hadn’t food enough to feed us animals. Then I overheard the master say that soon they’d be forced to eat us and that they’d begin with me. At that I decided it was time for me to run away and here I am.”
“My poor Cat,” Mikko said, “you’ve had a cruel experience! Why don’t you take service with me?”
“Will I be safe with you?” the Cat asked. “Will you protect me?”
“Will I?” the Fox repeated boastfully. “My dear Mirri, once it becomes known that you are Mikko’s servant all the animals will show you a wholesome respect.”
“Well then, I’ll enter your service,” the Cat said.
So the bargain was struck and the Fox at once began to train his new servant.
“Now, Mirri, tell me: what would you do if you suddenly met a Bear?”
“There’s just one thing I could do, master: I’d run up a tree.”
The Fox laughed.
“You must have more ways than one to meet such a situation! Take me now: there are any of a hundred things that I could do if I met a Bear!”
He jerked quickly away and fled and the Bear was left standing with his mouth wide open
Just then Osmo, the Bear, ambled softly up behind the Fox. The Cat saw him and instantly flew up a [!-- original location of Left Standing illustration --] tree. Before the Fox could move Osmo clutched him firmly on the shoulder with his teeth.
“Oh, master, master!” the Cat called down from the tree. “What’s this? I with my one way have escaped and you with your hundred are caught!”
But the Fox paid no heed to the Cat. He twisted his head around and looked reproachfully at the Bear.
“Why, Osmo, my dear old friend!” he said, “what in the world do you mean taking hold of me so roughly! Ouch! You’re nipping my shoulder, really you are! I don’t understand why you’re acting this way! Here I’ve always been such a good friend to you, so faithful, so true, so—”
“What!” rumbled the Bear. “Faithful! True! Oh, you—”
Osmo’s feelings overcame him to such an extent that he opened his jaws to roar out freely his denial of the Fox’s hypocrisy.
That gave the Fox just the chance he wanted. He jerked quickly away and fled and the Bear was left standing with his mouth wide open.
Later when the Bear had ambled off the Fox returned and called the Cat down from the tree.
“You see, Mirri,” he remarked casually, “it wasn’t anything at all for me to get the best of the Bear!”
He could see that he had vastly impressed the Cat, so he let the subject drop.
“Come along, Mirri,” he said, “it’s time for us to go home.”
A terrible creature landed on his nose and drove it full of pins and needles
ADVENTURE VI
THE FOX’S SERVANT
A day or so later the Fox met Pekka, the Wolf. The Fox hadn’t seen much of Pekka recently for Pekka had been having a hard time and had been on the verge of starvation. Now he was sleek again and well fed for he had recently killed an Ox.
“Good day, Pekka,” the Fox said in a friendly way.
“Good day, Mikko. How are you?”
“Very fine indeed!” the Fox said. “You see I have a new servant. Oh, he’s a wonderful servant! He’s not big to look at, you know, but he’s so strong and quick that he’d jump on you in a minute and eat you up before you knew what was happening!”
“Really, Mikko?”
“Yes, really! You just ought to see him!”
“I’d like to see him,” the Wolf said.
“Well, you might slip down now and take a peep in the kitchen. He’s at home. But, my dear Pekka, I warn you not to let him see you! If he catches sight of you, I won’t be responsible for the consequences!”
The Wolf was deeply impressed with all this. He crept carefully down to the Fox’s kitchen and sniffed cautiously at the crack under the door. The Cat inside, seeing the tip of the Wolf’s nose and thinking it was a Mouse, pounced on it with all his claws. This gave the Wolf a mighty fright and he bolted madly off into the forest.
He was still panting when he met the Bear.
“Osmo,” he said, “have you heard about that awful creature that Mikko has for a servant?”
The Bear had heard nothing, so the Wolf related to him his own terrifying experience.
The Bear’s curiosity was aroused.
“I must have a glimpse of this wonderful servant,” he said, ambling off in the direction of the Fox’s kitchen.
“I’ll wait for you here,” the Wolf called after him, “and I warn you, Osmo, be careful!”
The Bear when he got to the Fox’s kitchen quietly stuck his nose under the crack of the door and squinted inside. He hardly had time for one squint when a terrible creature with a straight tail that looked like a spear came flying through the air, landed on his nose, and drove it full of pins and needles.
“Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!” the Bear whimpered as he hurried back to the Wolf.
“Did you see him?” the Wolf asked.
“I got just one glimpse of him,” the Bear said. “He had a long spear sticking up over his shoulder and he came swooping down through the air just as if he had wings!”
“My! I wish we could really see him!” the Wolf said. “Suppose we ask Mikko to arrange some way we can have a good look at him.”
So they went to the Fox and Mikko, the rascal, said:
“Well, now, if you make a feast and invite my servant I think he will come.”
“All right,” the Wolf said, “that’s what we’ll do. I’ve still got some of that ox. It will make a fine feast.”
So they roasted the remains of the ox and set it out.
“Now I’ll go get my servant,” the Fox said. “When you hear us coming, you two hide some place where you can see us but we can’t see you. If my servant once sees you I won’t be responsible for the consequences!”
So the Wolf hid in some bushes nearby and the Bear drew himself up into the branches of a tree.
Well, the Fox and the Cat arrived and sat them down to the feast. Now it happened that the Wolf was not able to see, so he tried to twist himself around into a better position. The Cat caught a glimpse of his tail moving in the bushes and instantly pounced on it. With one terrified yelp, the Wolf jumped out of the bushes and fled into the forest as fast as he could.
In fright the Cat scampered up the tree and the Bear, of course, supposed that the awful creature now was after him. In his frantic efforts to escape he tumbled down out of the tree and broke two ribs. But for all that he made off, too terrified to look back.
So the Fox and the Cat were left to finish the ox in peace.
ADVENTURE VII
THE WOLF SINGS
Having sacrificed his ox in order to feast the Fox’s servant, the Wolf had nothing left for himself and was soon very hungry. He could find nothing to eat in the forest, so he went prowling around a farm in hopes of getting a pig or a chicken. The only living creature he came upon was a thin old Dog asleep in the sun.
“This is better than nothing,” he thought to himself and, taking hold of the Dog, he began dragging it off.
“Cousin! Cousin!” cried the Dog. “Is this any way to treat a relation? Let me go!”
“I’m sorry,” the Wolf said, “but I can’t let you go. I’m too hungry.”
“Let me go,” the Dog begged, “and I tell you what I’ll do: I’ll give you a bottle of vodka.”
“Promises come easy,” the Wolf said. “Where will you get the vodka?”
“Under the bench in the kitchen. That’s where the master keeps his bottle. I’ve seen him hide it there. Come to-night after the family’s asleep and I’ll let you in and give you the vodka.”
Now Pekka, the Wolf, was very fond of vodka, so he said to the Dog:
“Very well, I’ll let you go. But see that you keep your promise!”
Late that night when the family were asleep, the Wolf came scratching at the farmhouse door and the Dog let him in.
“Well, old fellow, you know why I’ve come,” the Wolf said.
At once the Dog crawled under the bench and got the master’s bottle of vodka.
“Here, Pekka, here it is!” he said, offering the Wolf the bottle.
The Wolf went staggering around the room howling at the top of his voice
“You drink first,” Pekka insisted. “You’re the host.”
The Dog raised the bottle and took a little sip. Then the Wolf took a deep swallow.
“Ah!” he said, smacking his lips, “that’s something like!”
His stomach was empty and the vodka went through his veins like fire. He felt happy and laughed and went capering around the room.
“I feel like singing!” he cried.
“My dear Pekka,” the Dog said, “I beg you don’t sing! You will wake the folks! Sit down quietly and we’ll talk.”
So they sat awhile and talked and then the Wolf took another deep swallow of the vodka. Again he wanted to sing and the Dog had trouble in restraining him.
“Do you want to wake the family, Pekka? Be quiet now or you can’t have any more vodka!”
The Wolf took another deep drink and after that there was no holding him back. He went staggering around the room howling at the top of his voice.
The Farmer and all his family came hurrying into the kitchen with clubs and pokers and whatever they could pick up.
“It’s a Wolf!” the Farmer cried. “The impudent scoundrel, coming right into the house! Give him a good beating!”
If the door hadn’t been open they would have clubbed poor Pekka to death. As it was he barely escaped with his life.
In the confusion that followed the Wolves stampeded, running helter-skelter in all directions
ADVENTURE VIII
THE CLEVER GOAT
The truth is Pekka, the Wolf, was a pretty stupid fellow always getting into some scrape or other. With sore ribs and a back aching from the beating which the farm folk had given him he slunk quietly along the forest ways hoping to come upon some easy prey. Suddenly he saw ahead of him a Goat and a Ram.
“What are they doing hereabouts?” he thought to himself. “This is no place for them and if anything happens to them it will be their own fault.”
Vuhi, the Goat, and Dinas, the Ram, both knew that the forest was no place for them. But where else could they go? They had recently been turned loose to fend for themselves by their poor old master who was no longer able to feed them.
“This forest rather frightens me,” the Ram had said to the Goat. “Do you suppose we’ll be able to keep off the Wolves?”
Vuhi, the Goat, flirted his whiskers and said:
“I’ve got a plan.”
Thereupon he took a sack and half filled it with dry chips. Then when he shook the sack the chips made a hollow rattle. He threw the sack over his shoulder and said to the Ram:
“Don’t you be frightened, Dinas. We’ll be able to hold our own with the forest creatures.”
It was just at this moment that Pekka, the Wolf, appeared.
“Ha! Ha!” said Pekka suspiciously. “What’s that you’ve got in that sack? No nonsense now! Answer me at once or I’ll have to kill you both!”
Vuhi, the Goat, gave the sack a little rattle.
“In this sack?” he said. “Oh, only the skulls and bones of the Wolves we have eaten. We haven’t had any Wolf meat now for some time, have we, Dinas? It’s good you’ve come along for we’re hungry.... Attention, Dinas! Kill the Wolf!”
The Ram lowered his horns ready for attack and Pekka, the Wolf, too surprised to resist and too stiff to run away, cried out wildly:
“Brothers! Brothers! Don’t kill me! I’m your friend! Spare me and I’ll do something for you!”
“Attention, Dinas!” the Goat commanded. “Don’t kill the Wolf just yet!”
Then he asked Pekka:
“What will you do for us if we spare you?”
“I’ll send you twelve Wolves,” Pekka promised. “That will give you more meat than you’d have if you killed just me!”
“Twelve,” the Goat replied. “You are right: twelve Wolves will give us more meat than one. Very well, we’ll let you go on condition that you send us twelve. But see you keep your word!”
So the Wolf went off as fast as his stiff legs could carry him and assembled twelve of his brothers.
“I’ve called you together,” he said, “to warn you of two terrible creatures, a Goat and a Ram, who are here in the forest eating up Wolves! Already they have a sack full of our unfortunate relations’ skulls and bones! I saw the sack myself! Don’t you think we ought all of us to flee?”
“What!” said the other Wolves, “thirteen Wolves turn tail on one Goat and one Ram? Never! We’ll go together and give them battle!”
“Don’t count me in!” Pekka said. “I don’t want to see those two again!”
So the twelve Wolves marched off without Pekka.
The Goat as he saw them coming ran up a tree. The Ram followed him but couldn’t get very high.
The twelve Wolves came under the tree and standing in close formation called out:
“Now then, you two, come on! We’re ready for you!”
“Attention, Dinas!” the Goat commanded. “They’re all here, so lose no more time! Jump down among them and kill them!”
The Goat himself began climbing down the tree, at the same time making an awful noise with his sack. He gave the Ram a push and the Ram slipped and fell right on the backs of the Wolves.
“That’s right, Dinas! Kill them all!” the Goat shouted, rattling his sack more furiously than ever. “Don’t let one of them escape!”
In the confusion that followed the Wolves stampeded, running helter-skelter in all directions. Every Wolf there felt that his own escape was a piece of rare good fortune.
“Those terrible two!” he thought.
Thereafter Vuhi, the Goat, and Dinas, the Ram, lived on in the forest untroubled by the Wolves.
“Here are three of us and see, here on the floor is our harvest already divided into three heaps”
ADVENTURE IX
THE HARVEST
Well, the time came when the field of barley which the Fox and the Wolf had planted together was ready to harvest. So the two friends cut the grain and carried the sheaves to the threshing barn where they spread them out to dry. When it was time to thresh the grain, they asked Osmo, the Bear, to come and help them.
“Certainly,” Osmo said.
At the time agreed the three animals met at the threshing barn.
“Now the first thing to decide,” Pekka said, “is how to divide the work.”
The Fox climbed nimbly up to the rafters.
“I’ll stay up here,” he called down, “and support the beams and the rafters. In that way there won’t be any danger of their falling and injuring either of you. You two work down there without any concern. Trust me! I’ll take care of you!”
So Osmo, the Bear, used the flail, and Pekka, the Wolf, winnowed the chaff from the grain. Mikko, the rascal, occasionally dropped down upon them a hunk of wood.
“Take care!” they’d call out. “Do you want to kill us?”
“Indeed, brothers, you have no idea how hard it is for me to hold up all these rafters!” Mikko would say. “You’re very lucky it’s only a little piece that drops on you now and then! If it weren’t for me you’d certainly be killed, both of you!”
Well, the Bear and the Wolf worked steadily. When they were finished Mikko, the rascal, leaped down from the rafters and stretched himself as though he had been working the hardest of them all.
“I’m glad that job of mine is finished!” he said. “I couldn’t have held things up much longer!”
“Well now,” Pekka asked, “how shall we divide this our harvest?”
“I’ll tell you how,” Mikko said. “Here are three of us and, see, here on the floor is our harvest already divided into three heaps. The biggest heap will naturally go to the biggest of us. That’s Osmo, the Bear. The middle sized heap will go to you, Pekka. I’m the smallest, so the smallest heap comes to me.”
The Bear and the Wolf, stupid old things, agreed to this. So Osmo took the great heap of straw, Pekka the pile of chaff, and Mikko, the rascal, got for his share the little mound of clean grain.
Together they all went to the mill to grind their meal.
As the millstone turned on Mikko’s grain, it made a rough rasping sound.
“Strange,” Osmo said to Pekka, “Mikko’s grain sounds different from ours.”
“Mix some sand with yours,” Mikko said, “then yours will make the same sound.”
So the Bear and the Wolf poured some sand in their straw and their chaff and sure enough, when they turned their millstones again, they, too, got a rough rasping sound.
This satisfied them and they went home feeling they had just as good a winter’s supply of food as Mikko.
He dropped it in the water and of course it spread out far and wide and the current carried it off
ADVENTURE X
THE PORRIDGE
Well, it was only natural that they should all want to see at once what kind of porridge their meal would make.
Osmo’s came out black and disgusting. Greatly disturbed he ambled over to Mikko’s house for advice. The Fox was stirring his own porridge which was white and smooth.
“What’s the matter with my porridge?” the Bear asked. “Yours is white and smooth but mine is black and horrid.”
“Did you wash your meal before you put it into the pot?” the Fox asked.
“Wash it? No! How do you wash meal?”
“You take it to the river and drop it in the water. Then when it’s clean you take it out.”
The Bear at once went home and got his ground up straw and took it to the river. He dropped it in the water and of course it spread out far and wide and the current carried it off.
So that was the end of Osmo’s share of the harvest.
Pekka, the Wolf, had as little luck with his porridge. Soon he, too, came to Mikko for advice.
“I don’t know what’s the matter with me,” he said. “I don’t seem to be able to make good porridge. Look at yours all white and smooth! I must watch you how you make it. Won’t you let me hang my pot on your crane? Then I’ll do just as you do.”
“Certainly,” the Fox said. “Hang your pot on this chain and the two pots can then cook side by side.”
“Yours is so white to begin with,” Pekka said, “and mine looks no better than dirt.”
“Before you came I climbed up the chain and hung over the pot,” the Fox said. “The heat of the fire melted the fat in my tail and it dripped down into the pot. It’s that fat that makes my porridge look so white.”
Poor gullible Pekka immediately suspended himself on the chain above his porridge. But he didn’t stay there long. The flames scorched him and he fell down hurting his side. If you notice, to this day any Wolf that you meet has stiff sides that make it hard for him to turn and twist, and to this day all Wolves smell of burnt hair.
Well, Pekka, after he had got his breath, tasted his porridge again to see if it was any better. But it wasn’t. It was as bad as ever.
“I don’t see any difference in it,” he said. “Let me taste yours, Mikko.”
The Fox artfully scooped up a spoonful of the Wolf’s porridge and dropped it into his own pot.
“Help yourself,” he said. “Take some out of that spot there. That’s good.”
The place he pointed to was, of course, the place where he had dropped some of the Wolf’s own porridge.
So poor old stupid Pekka only sampled his own porridge again when he thought he was tasting Mikko’s.
“Strange,” he said, “your porridge doesn’t taste good to me either. I don’t believe anything tastes good to me to-day. The truth is I don’t believe I like porridge.”
He went home sad and discouraged while Mikko, the rascal, chuckled to himself and said:
“I wonder why Pekka doesn’t like porridge. It tastes awful good to me!”
ADVENTURE XI
NURSE MIKKO
The Wolf’s wife gave birth to three little cubs and then died.
“You poor children!” Pekka said, “your mother is dead and there is no one to take her place. I must get you a nurse.”
So he went through the forest hunting some one to take care of his motherless cubs. The white Grouse offered her services but, when she sang a lullaby to show what a good nurse she could be, Pekka shook his head.
“I don’t like your voice,” he said. “I can’t take you.”
Then Jussi, the Hare, applied for the position.
“You know I’m lame,” he said, “so quiet work like nursing would suit me.”
“Can you sing lullabies?” Pekka asked.
“Oh, yes! Listen!” and Jussi began squealing.
“Stop!” Pekka cried. “I don’t like your voice either.”
Just then Mikko, the Fox, came running up.
“Good day, Pekka,” he said. “I hear you’re out looking for a nurse for your sweet babies.”
“Yes, Mikko, I am. Can you recommend one?”
“I’d like the job myself,” the Fox said.
“You, Mikko?”
“Yes.”
“But you can’t sing lullabies, can you?”
“Oh, yes! I sing them very beautifully. Listen:
‘Hushabye, sweet little cubs,
Hushabye to sleep!
Who best loves you, do you think?
Who will give you food and drink?
Who on faithful guard will keep?
Mikko! Mikko!
‘Hushabye, sweet little cubs,
Mikko loves you well,
Loves each little pointed nose,
Loves your little scratchy toes,
Loves you more than he can tell—
Mikko! Mikko!’”
He ran after Mikko and was about to overtake him when Mikko slipped into a crevice in the rocks. Only one paw stuck out
Pekka, the Wolf, was charmed with Mikko’s lullaby.
“Beautiful! Beautiful!” he said. “I never heard a sweeter lullaby! You’re the very nurse I want! Come home with me at once.”
So Mikko went home with Pekka and took over the care of the three little Wolf cubs.
“I’ll go off now and get them something to eat,” Pekka said.
He came back after a while with the hind leg of a horse.
“This will be enough for them to start on,” he said.
The Fox shook his head.
“I’m afraid it won’t last them very long. They’re beautiful healthy children with fine appetites.”
“Poor little dears!” Pekka said. “Let me see them.”
“Not just now!” Mikko insisted. “They’re asleep and mustn’t be disturbed. Go out hunting again and the next time you come home you shall see them.”
Pekka felt that the Fox must be a very good nurse indeed to be so strict. So he went off hunting again without seeing his children.
As soon as he was gone Mikko, the rascal, ate up all the horse meat without giving the cubs one bite and then, as he was still hungry, he ate one of the cubs. The next day he ate another cub, and the day following he ate the last of them. He was just finishing that last cub when the Wolf came home and called in at the door:
“Now, nurse, here I am come home to see my dear children! They’re well, aren’t they?”
“Very well!” the Fox declared. “But they’ve grown so big under my good care that the house isn’t large enough now to hold them and you and me at the same time. If you’re coming in, I must get out first.”
So the Wolf stood aside as the Fox came out and scampered away.
Then the Wolf went in and of course all he could find of his dear children were their bones.
“You faithless, faithless nurse!” he cried.
In awful rage he ran after Mikko and was about to overtake him when Mikko slipped into a crevice in the rocks. Only one paw stuck out. The Wolf pounced on this paw and began gnawing it.
“Say, Pekka, have you gone crazy?” the Fox asked. “What do you think you’re doing biting that old root? I hope you don’t think it’s one of my paws. I’m sitting on all four paws.”
The Wolf looked up to see whether this was true and, quick as a flash, Mikko, the rascal, drew in his paw.
So the poor old Wolf, fooled again, went sadly home.
Of course the instant he opened his mouth the Grouse flew away
ADVENTURE XII
THE BEAR SAYS NORTH
One day while Osmo, the Bear, was prowling about the woods he caught a Grouse.
“Pretty good!” he thought to himself. “Wouldn’t the other animals be surprised if they knew old Osmo had caught a Grouse!”
He was so proud of his feat that he wanted all the world to know of it. So, holding the Grouse carefully in his teeth without injuring it, he began parading up and down the forest ways.
“They’ll all certainly envy me this nice plump Grouse,” he thought. “And they won’t be so ready to call me awkward and lumbering after this, either!”
Presently Mikko, the Fox, sauntered by. He saw at once that Osmo was showing off and he determined that the Bear would not get the satisfaction of any admiration from him. So he pretended not to see the Grouse at all. Instead he pointed his nose upwards and sniffed.
“Um! Um!” grunted Osmo, trying to attract attention to himself.
“Ah,” Mikko remarked, casually, “is that you, Osmo? What way is the wind blowing to-day? Can you tell me?”
Osmo, of course, could not answer without opening his mouth, so he grunted again hoping that Mikko would have to notice why he couldn’t answer. But the Fox didn’t glance at him at all. With his nose still pointed upwards he kept sniffing the air.
“It seems to me it’s from the South,” he said. “Isn’t it from the South, Osmo?”
“Um! Um! Um!” the Bear grunted.
“You say it is from the South, Osmo? Are you sure?”
“Um! Um!” Osmo repeated, growing every moment more impatient.
“Oh, not from the South, you say. Then from what direction is it blowing?”
By this time the Bear was so exasperated by Mikko’s interest in the wind when he should have been admiring the Grouse that he forgot himself, opened his mouth, and roared out:
“North!”
Of course the instant he opened his mouth, the Grouse flew away.
“Now see what you’ve done!” he stormed angrily. “You’ve made me lose my fine plump Grouse!”
“I?” Mikko asked. “What had I to do with it?”
“You kept asking me about the wind until I opened my mouth—that’s what you did!”
The Fox shrugged his shoulders.
“Why did you open your mouth?”
“Well, you can’t say, ‘North!’ without opening your mouth, can you?” the Bear demanded.
The Fox laughed heartily.
“See here, Osmo, don’t blame me. Blame yourself. If I had had that Grouse in my mouth and you had asked me about the wind, I should never have said, ‘North!’”
“What would you have said?” the Bear asked.
Mikko, the rascal, laughed harder than ever. Then he clenched his teeth and said:
“East!”
“Why, do you know,” he said, “my turnips and my bread don’t taste a bit like this!”
ADVENTURE XIII
OSMO’S SHARE
One day Osmo, the Bear, came to a clearing where a Man was plowing.
“Good day,” the Bear said. “What are you doing?”
“I’m plowing,” the Man answered. “After I finish plowing I’m going to harrow and then plant the field, half in wheat and half in turnips.”
“Yum! Yum!” Osmo thought to himself. “Good food that—wheat and turnips!”
Aloud he said:
“I know how to plow and harrow. What do you say to my helping you?”
“If you help me,” the Man said, “I’ll share the harvest with you.”
So Osmo set to work and between them they soon had the field plowed, harrowed, and planted.
When Autumn came they went to get their crops.
At the turnip field the Man said:
“Now what do you want as your share—the part that grows above the ground or the part that grows below?”
Osmo, the Bear, seeing how green and luxuriant the turnip tops were, said:
“Give me the part that grows above ground.”
After they had harvested the turnips, they went on to the wheat field where the Man put the same question.
The wheat stocks were all dry and shriveled. Osmo looked at them wisely and said:
“This time you better give me the part that grows under the ground.”
The Man laughed in his sleeve and agreed.
One day the following winter the two met and the Man invited the Bear to dinner. Osmo who was very hungry accepted the invitation gladly.
First they had baked turnips.
“Oh, but these are good!” Osmo said. “I’ve never tasted anything better! What are they?”
“Why,” the Man said, “they’re the turnips from that field that you and I planted together.”
The Bear was greatly surprised.
Then they had some freshly baked bread.
“How good! How good!” Osmo exclaimed. “What is it?”
“Just plain bread,” the Man said, “baked from the wheat you and I planted together.”
Osmo was more surprised than ever.
“Why, do you know,” he said, “my turnips and my bread don’t taste a bit like this!”
The Man burst out laughing and Osmo wondered why.
The first person they met was an old Horse. They put their case to him
ADVENTURE XIV
THE REWARD OF KINDNESS
Osmo, the Bear, used to go day after day to a field of growing rye and eat as much as he wanted. The Farmer noticed from the Bear’s tracks that he always came by the same route.
“I’ll teach that Bear a lesson!” the Farmer thought to himself.
So he set a snare made of a strong net and carefully covered it over with leaves and branches.
That day Osmo, when he came as usual to the field, got entangled in the net and was unable to escape.
The Farmer when he came and found him securely caught was overjoyed.
“Now, you brute!” he said, “I’ve got you and I’m going to kill you!”
“Oh, master, don’t do that!” the Bear implored. “Don’t kill me!”
“Why shouldn’t I kill you?” the Farmer asked. “Aren’t you destroying my rye?”
“Let me off this time!” Osmo begged, “and I’ll reward you! I swear I will!”
He begged and begged until at last he prevailed upon the Farmer to open the net and let him out.
“Now then,” the Farmer said as soon as the Bear was freed, “how are you going to reward me?”
Osmo put a heavy paw on the Farmer’s shoulder.
“This is how I’m going to reward you,” he said: “I’m going to eat you up!”
“What!” the Farmer exclaimed, “is that your idea of a reward for kindness?”
“Exactly!” Osmo declared. “In this world that is the reward kindness always gets! Ask any one!”
“I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it!” the Farmer cried.
“Very well. I’ll prove to you that I’m right. We’ll ask the first person we meet.”
The first person they met was an old Horse. They put their case to him.
“The Bear is right,” the old Horse said. “Look at me: For thirty years I gave my master faithful service and just this morning I heard him say: ‘It’s time we killed that old plug! He’s no good for work any more and he’s only eating his head off!’”
The Bear squinted his little eyes.
“You see!”
“No, I don’t see!” the Farmer insisted. “We must ask some one else.”
They walked on a little farther until they met an old Dog. They put their case to him and at once the Dog said:
“The Bear is right! Look at me: I gave my master a life time of faithful service and just this morning I overheard him say: ‘It’s time we killed that old Dog!’ Alas, alas, in this wicked world goodness is always so rewarded!”
But still the Farmer was unsatisfied and to humor him Osmo said that he was willing that they should put their case once more to the judgment of an outsider.
The next person they met was Mikko, the Fox. Mikko listened carefully and then drawing the Farmer aside he whispered:
“If I give judgment in your favor will you let me carry off all the chickens in your hen-house?”
“Indeed I will!” the Farmer promised.
Then Mikko cleared his throat importantly and said:
“H’m! H’m! To give fair judgment in this case I must go over all the ground. First show me the field of rye and the damage Osmo did.”
So they went to the field and the Fox, after he had appraised the damage, shook his head seriously.
“It was certainly wicked of Osmo eating all that rye!... Now show me the net.”
So they went to the snare and the Fox examined it carefully.
“You say the Bear got entangled in this snare. I want to see just how he did it.”
Osmo showed just how he had been caught.
“Get all the way in,” the Fox said. “I want to make sure that you couldn’t possibly get out unaided.”
So the Bear entangled himself again in the net and proved that he couldn’t possibly get out unaided.
“Well,” said Mikko, the rascal, “you deserved to get caught the first time and now that you’re in there again you can just stay there! Come on, Mr. Farmer.”
So Mikko and the Farmer went off leaving Osmo to his fate.
That night the Fox went to the Farmer’s hen-house to claim his reward. When he came in the chickens, of course, set up an awful squawking that aroused the family. The Farmer stayed in bed but he sent his wife out with a stout club.
“It sounds to me,” he said, “as if some rascally Fox is trying to steal our hens. If you catch him, don’t be gentle with him!”
“Gentle!” repeated the wife significantly.
She hurried out to the hen-house and when she found Mikko inside she gave him an awful beating. In fact he barely escaped with his life.
“Ah!” he said to himself as he limped painfully home, “to think that this is the reward my kindness has received! Oh, what a wicked, wicked world this is!”
With that the Bear lifted his paw and the little mouse scampered off
ADVENTURE XV
THE BEAR AND THE MOUSE
When Osmo, the Bear, was left alone in the net, he thrashed about this way and that until he was exhausted. Then he fell asleep.
While he slept a host of little Mice began playing all over his great body.
Their tiny feet tickled him and he woke with a start. The Mice scampered off, all but one that Osmo caught under his paw.
“Tweek! Tweek!” the frightened little Mouse cried. “Let me go! Let me go! Please let me go! If you do I’ll reward you some day! I promise I will!”
Osmo let out a great roar of laughter.
“What, little one? You’ll reward me! Ha! Ha! That is good! The Mouse will reward the Bear! Well now, that is a joke! However, little one, I will let you go! You’re too weak and insignificant for me to kill and too small to eat. So run along!”
With that the Bear lifted his paw and the little Mouse scampered off.
“It will reward me for my kindness!” Osmo repeated, and in spite of the fact that he was fast caught in a net he shook again with laughter.
He was still laughing when the little Mouse returned with a great army of his fellows. All the host at once began gnawing at the ropes of the net and in no time at all they had freed the big Bear.
“You see,” the little Mouse said, “although we are weak and insignificant we can reward a kindness!”
Osmo was so ashamed for having laughed at the Mice on account of their size that all he could say as he shambled off into the forest was:
“Thanks!”
ADVENTURE XVI
THE LAST OF OSMO
There was a Farmer that used to drive his sledge into the forest to cut wood. Always as he drove he shouted abusively at his Horse.
“Go along, you old plug!” he’d say. “What do you think you’re good for, anyway? If you don’t move along more lively I’ll give you to the Bear for his supper—that’s what I’ll do with you!”
Now Osmo, the Bear, heard about this, how the Farmer was always talking about giving him his Horse, so one afternoon while the Farmer was going through his usual tirade Osmo suddenly stepped out of the bushes and said:
“Well, Mr. Farmer, here I am! Suppose you give me my supper.”
The Farmer was greatly taken back.
“I didn’t really mean what I was saying,” he stammered. “He’s a good Horse but he’s a little lazy—that’s all.”
Osmo stood there swaying his shoulders and twisting his head.
“Even if he is lazy he’ll taste all right to me. Come along, Mr. Farmer, hand him over as you’ve promised to do this long time!”
“But I can’t afford to give you my Horse!” the Farmer cried. “He’s the only Horse I’ve got!”
But the Bear was firm.
“No matter! You have to keep your word!”
“See here,” the Farmer begged, “let me off on giving you my Horse and I tell you what I’ll do: I’ll give you my Cow. I can spare the Cow better.”
“When will you give me the Cow?” the Bear asked.
“To-morrow,” the Farmer promised.
“Very well,” Osmo said, “if you deliver me the Cow to-morrow I’ll let you off on the Horse. But see you keep your word!”
On his way home that afternoon the Farmer visited his traps. In one he found Mikko, the Fox. Mikko, the little rascal, begged for his life so piteously that the Farmer with a laugh freed him.
“You’ve done me a good turn,” Mikko said, “and some day I’ll do something for you. Just wait and see if I don’t.”
Well, early next morning the Farmer put his Cow on the sledge and started off for the forest. On the way he met Mikko.
“Good morning,” Mikko said. “Where are you going with your Cow?”
The Farmer stopped and told Mikko about his bargain with the Bear.
“See here,” the Fox said, “I promised you yesterday that some day I’d do you a good turn. That day has come! I’m going to save you your Cow and show you how you can kill that old Bear once and for all. But if I do this, you’ll have to give me the Bear’s carcass after he’s dead and gone.”
“I’ll be glad enough to do that,” the Farmer declared. “Save me my Cow and you may have all of that old Bear that you want!”
“Well then,” Mikko said, “go home with the Cow as quickly as you can and come back here with ten distaffs. My plan is to have you put five of the distaffs around my neck and five around my tail. I can make an awful noise rattling them. When the Bear hears me and wonders who I am, do you say to him: ‘Oh! That must be my son, the Hunter! Don’t you hear the rattle of his musket?’ Then between us we’ll finish that old Bear.”
The Farmer did as the Fox directed. He drove the Cow home and returned to the forest with ten distaffs, five of which he fastened about the Fox’s neck and five about his tail. Then he drove the sledge on to the place where he was to meet the Bear and Mikko, the Fox, crept along quietly behind him.
“Where’s my Cow?” the Bear demanded as soon as the sledge appeared.
“I’ve come to talk to you about that,” the Farmer began.
Just then there was an awful rattle of something in the bushes behind the Farmer.
“What’s that?” the Bear cried.
“Oh,” the Farmer said, “that must be my son, the Hunter! Don’t you hear the rattle of his musket?”
The Bear shook in terror.
“The Hunter, you say! Mercy me, what shall I do! Oh, Mr. Farmer, save me from the Hunter and I’ll forgive you the Cow!”
“Very well,” the Farmer promised, “I’ll do my best! Lie down and I’ll try to make the Hunter believe you’re only a log.”
So the Bear lay down on the ground and stayed perfectly quiet.
“Father,” called the Fox in a voice that sounded like the Hunter’s, “what’s that big brown thing lying on the ground near you? Is it a Bear?”
“No, son,” the Farmer called back, “that isn’t a Bear. It’s only a log of wood.”
“If it’s a log of wood, father, chop it up!”
The Farmer raised his ax.
“Don’t really chop me!” the Bear begged in a whisper. “Just pretend to.”
“This is too good a log to chop up,” the Farmer said.
“Well, father,” said the voice from the bushes, “if it’s such a good log you better put it on your sledge and take it home.”
“Lie still,” the Farmer whispered, “while I put you on the sledge.”
So the Bear lay stiff and quiet and the Farmer dragged him on to the sledge.
“Father,” the voice said, “you better tie that log down to keep it from rolling off.”
“Don’t move,” the Farmer whispered, “and I’ll tie you down just as if you were a log.”
So the Bear lay perfectly still while the Farmer lashed him securely to the sledge.
“Father, are you sure that log can’t roll off?”
“Yes, son,” the Farmer said, “I’m sure it can’t roll off now.”
“Then, father, drive your ax into the end of the log and off we’ll go!”
At that the Farmer raised his ax and with one mighty blow buried it in the neck of the Bear.
So that was the end of poor old lumbering Osmo!
The Farmer was saved both his Horse and his Cow and Mikko, the rascal, feasted on Bear meat for a week.
So that was THE END
Transcriber's Note
Archaic and variable spelling and grammar usage is preserved as printed.
Minor punctuation errors have been repaired.
The following amendments have been made for consistency:
Page [166]—Ollie amended to Olli—"“Yes,” Olli shouted back, ..."
Page [198]—Mattie amended to Matti—"“But remember,” Matti warned him, ..."
Page [200]—Mattie amended to Matti—"“That is true,” Matti said, ..."
The following typographic errors have been repaired:
Page [230]—then amended to them—"Jussi looked at them in amazement, his eyes popping out of his head."
Page [294]—satisfacion amended to satisfaction—"... the Bear would not get the satisfaction of any admiration from him."
Illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they were not in the middle of a paragraph. Omitted page numbers were either the location of these illustrations or blank pages in the original book.