among the branches as lightly as
though he'd been able to fly. He looked at the marten, who was not as
skilled at climbing as the squirrel, but who still ran up and along the
branches just as securely as if they had been even paths in the forest.
"If I could only climb half as well as either of them," thought the fox,
"those things down there wouldn't sleep in peace very long!"

As soon as the squirrel had been captured, and the chase was ended,
Smirre walked over to the marten, but stopped two steps away from him,
to signify that he did not wish to cheat him of his prey. He greeted the
marten in a very friendly manner, and wished him good luck with his
catch. Smirre chose his words well--as foxes always do. The marten, on
the contrary, who, with his long and slender body, his fine head, his
soft skin, and his light brown neck-piece, looked like a little marvel
of beauty--but in reality was nothing but a crude forest dweller--hardly
answered him. "It surprises me," said Smirre, "that such a fine hunter
as you are should be satisfied with chasing squirrels when there is much
better game within reach." Here he paused; but when the marten only
grinned impudently at him, he continued: "Can it be possible that you
haven't seen the wild geese that stand under the mountain wall? or are
you not a good enough climber to get down to them?"

This time he had no need to wait for an answer. The marten rushed up to
him with back bent, and every separate hair on end. "Have you seen wild
geese?" he hissed. "Where are they? Tell me instantly, or I'll bite your
neck off!" "No! you must remember that I'm twice your size--so be a
little polite. I ask nothing better than to show you the wild geese."

The next instant the marten was on his way down the steep; and while
Smirre sat and watched how he swung his snake-like body from branch to
branch, he thought: "That pretty tree-hunter has the wickedest heart in
all the forest. I believe that the wild geese will have me to thank for
a bloody awakening."

But just as Smirre was waiting to hear the geese's death-rattle, he saw
the marten tumble from branch to branch--and plump into the river so the
water splashed high. Soon thereafter, wings beat loudly and strongly and
all the geese went up in a hurried flight.

Smirre intended to hurry after the geese, but he was so curious to know
how they had been saved, that he sat there until the marten came
clambering up. That poor thing was soaked in