Presently Puss came to a field where the harvesters were harvesting the grain. Puss marched up to them scowling fiercely and bristling out his whiskers until he looked twice as big again. The harvesters were frightened.
“Listen, men,” cried Puss. “The King will soon come by this way with my master, the Marquis of Carrabas riding beside him. If he should ask you to whom this grain belongs, answer that it belongs to the noble Marquis of Carrabas. If you do not do this you shall be torn into pieces, and the shreds thrown into the river.”
The harvesters were more frightened than ever. They promised to do exactly as the cat bade them.
Then Puss ran on until he met a drover driving a great herd of cattle. Him, too, he frightened so that he promised if the King asked him to whom the herd belonged, he would say to the noble Marquis of Carrabas.
A little farther on the cat met a shepherd with his sheep, and he also promised to say his flocks belonged to the Marquis of Carrabas.
So it went on; it seemed as though everything was to be claimed by the Marquis of Carrabas.
Now all these things really belonged to an ogre who was very rich and fierce and strong and terrible, and after awhile Puss came to the castle where the ogre lived. The little cat was not afraid of ogres, however. He made his way into the castle and ran along into one room after another until he came to where the ogre was sitting.
When the ogre saw the little cat in his fine shiny, creaking boots he was so amused that he laughed aloud. He had never seen such a sight before.
“And where did you come from, my fine little cat?” he asked.
“Oh, from over the hills and far away.”