“We will go fight now, and I will see what that bear means by saying such things.” He was really furious, and went off through the woods with great strides, so that the fox had to run to keep up with him.
As soon as he saw the bear with the caribou, he jumped at him and a desperate battle began. While they were busy fighting, the fox took all the fat from the caribou and hid it under his skin.
When the second bear had beaten the bear with the caribou, and had driven him away, he saw the fox lying on the ground moaning and groaning as though in great pain.
“What is the matter, Cousin?” asked the bear.
“O!” groaned the fox, “I am almost dead!” And he rolled over and made believe to cry. “I got terribly hurt helping you in that terrible fight. It was I who gave your enemy the blow that drove him away.”
Now of course this was not true at all, but the bear was very sorry and thought him a brave and loyal friend.
“You are a brave fox,” he said, “and we will always be friends.”
Then they ate all they wanted of the caribou, and left the place together.
When the fox got hungry he would just take some of the fat of the caribou from under his skin and feed on that. When the bear got hungry he could find nothing to eat but a few blueberries. The poor animal who was starving began to wonder why the fox was never hungry, so he asked him, “Cousin have you been eating something?” and the fox said, “When I am hungry, I just make a little hole in my skin and eat some of my own fat, then I am satisfied.” Wasn’t he an awful story-teller?
The bear thought he would like to try that, too, so he took a bite out of himself, and pretty soon he died. The wicked fox laughed at that, for it was the very thing he had planned. He was pleased to have the bear to eat, and removing the fat from his one-time friend, he stuffed it under his own skin, and for a long while lived not on the “fat of the land” as they say, but on the fat of the companion who trusted and admired him.