The good folks were just sitting down to supper. “Shut the door,” cried the good woman, “for here’s a wee bannock come in to warm itself by our fire, and it’s just in time for supper.”
When the bannock heard this it ran all about the house, and got out at last, when it ran faster and faster till it got to another house. As it ran in the folk were just going to bed. The goodman was taking off his breeches, and his wife raking out the fire.
“What’s that?” cried he. “It’s a wee bannock,” said his wife. “I could eat the half of it for all the supper I had,” said he. “Catch hold of it,” cried she, “and I’ll have a bit too. Throw your breeches at it—there, stop it—stop it!” The goodman threw his breeches at it and nearly buried it, but it got away and out of the house. The goodman ran after it; and now a regular chase began, round the house, through the garden, across the fields on to a common among the furze, where he lost it, and he had to trot home again half naked.
It had now grown quite dark, and the wee bannock could not see an inch before it, so by mistake it got into a fox’s hole.
Now the fox had had no meat for two days, so it made a snap at the bannock and it was gone in an instant.
It would seem as if there were little use in the wee bannock having escaped so many dangers, but not so, for all its pursuers could do very well without it, whereas the poor fox had fasted two days and must have been really hungry.
The Bannock Hunt.