So the four choristers, led by the cock, walked in the direction from which the light came, and before long they found themselves in front of a little house, the windows of which were brilliantly lighted. In order to reach to the windows the animals made a tower of their bodies, with Greyskin at the bottom and Chanticleer at the top.
Now this house was the abode of a band of robbers, who, at that very moment, were seated before a table laden with all kinds of food. There they sat and feasted, and poor Chanticleer’s mouth watered as he watched them.
“Is there anybody inside?” asked the dog, who was impatient.
“Hush!” said Chanticleer. “Men! They’re eating their dinner!”
“I wish I was,” said the dog. “What are they eating?”
“All sorts of things—sausage, and fish....”
“Sausage!” said the dog.
“Fish!” said the cat.
“And ever so many other delicacies,” Chanticleer went on. “Look here, friends. Wouldn’t it be a fine thing if we could get a share of their meal? I confess that my stomach aches with hunger.”
“And mine too,” said the dog. “I’ve never been so hungry in my life. But how are we to get the food?”