Fighting
THE BATTLE OF THE BIRDS AND BEASTS
One day as Bruin the Bear and Isengrim the Wolf were taking a walk in the woods they came to a big elm-tree with a hollow trunk. Peering within in the hope of finding something to eat they espied a little nest supported by two notches in the bark. It was the tiniest and neatest little house one could wish to see, made of fresh green moss, with a small opening in the middle for a door, and was, in fact, the home of a little bird called the Golden-crested Wren. Now among the country people the golden-crested wren is often known by the name of the Kinglet, and being aware of this, Isengrim saw a chance of playing a joke upon his companion. “Look at this nest, Bruin,” said he. “What would you say if I told you it was a King’s palace?”
“That a King’s palace!” laughed Bruin scornfully. “A handful of moss in a hole! Why, with one tap of my paw I could smash it to fragments!”
“I should not advise you to do any such thing,” said Isengrim. “The King who lives in that palace is much more powerful than you think, and unless you are looking for trouble it would be best to leave his home alone.”
“What!” cried Bruin, in a rage. “Am I to be defied by a miserable little fowl in my own forest? That for your King!” And with one sweep of his paw, he reduced the nest to a shapeless heap of moss. “Now let him revenge himself if he can,” he roared. “I hereby declare war upon him and upon all his tribe. Fur against feather! The four-legged animals against those that go on wings. We will put this matter to the test!”
When the Kinglet came home and found his nest destroyed he danced and chattered with anger. Isengrim lost no time in letting him know who was responsible for the mischief, and took a spiteful joy in telling him of the Bear’s challenge.
“Very well,” said the little wren. “Kinglet is my name, and King shall be my nature. I will call all the winged creatures together and we will settle the matter by the test of arms.”