The man sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together singing songs.
They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man with a gun, and he was taking aim, but what he was aiming at they could not see.
"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool. "But what are you shooting at? There isn't a bird to be seen."
"What!" says the man. "If there were a bird that you could see, I should not shoot at it. A bird or a beast a thousand versts away, that's the sort of mark for me."
"Take your seat with us," says the Fool.
The man sat down with them in the ship, and they flew on together. Louder and louder rose their songs.
They flew on and on, and looked down, and there was a man carrying a sack full of bread on his back.
"Good health to you, uncle," says the Fool, sailing down. "And where are you off to?"
"I am going to get bread for my dinner."