He stopped short, put the goose on the ground, and stood on
her with his forepaws, so she couldn't fly away. He was just about to
bite off her neck--but then he couldn't resist the desire to tease the
boy a little. "Hurry off and complain to the master, for now I'm going
to bite the goose to death!" said he.
Certainly the one who was surprised when he saw what a pointed nose, and
heard what a hoarse and angry voice that dog which he was pursuing
had,--was the boy! But now he was so enraged because the fox had made
fun of him, that he never thought of being frightened. He took a firmer
hold on the tail, braced himself against a beech trunk; and just as the
fox opened his jaws over the goose's throat, he pulled as hard as he
could. Smirre was so astonished that he let himself be pulled backward a
couple of steps--and the wild goose got away. She fluttered upward
feebly and heavily. One wing was so badly wounded that she could barely
use it. In addition to this, she could not see in the night darkness of
the forest but was as helpless as the blind. Therefore she could in no
way help the boy; so she groped her way through the branches and flew
down to the lake again.
Then Smirre made a dash for the boy. "If I don't get the one, I shall
certainly have the other," said he; and you could tell by his voice how
mad he was.
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