“Tread on it,” said the hedgehog, “else it will bite you, ever so genteely.”
The adder reared its neck and rustled away.
“Stop!” shouted the hedgehog, attacking the snake. “I am not as genteel as you are, but I show my bristles openly, I do!”
And then it killed the snake and disappeared.
Now the soldier was alone in the wood and very sorry he felt that he had rejected the society of the prickly hedgehog.
It had grown dark, but the crescent of the moon shone between the birch leaves, and it was quite still.
The soldier fancied that he could see a big yellow hand moving backwards and forwards. He went close up to it, and then he saw that it was a yellow leaf, which seemed to gesticulate with its fingers, although nobody could possibly understand what it wanted to say.
As he stood there, watching it, he heard an asp trembling:
“Huh! I’m so cold,” said the asp, “for my feet are wet, and I am so frightened.”
“What are you frightened of?” asked the soldier.