They stood perfectly helpless and examined the crock, when they heard
someone say: "Shall I come down and assist you crows?" They glanced up
quickly. On the edge of the hollow sat a fox and blinked down at them.
He was one of the prettiest foxes--both in colour and form--that they
had ever seen. The only fault with him was that he had lost an ear.
"If you desire to do us a service," said Wind-Rush, "we shall not say
nay." At the same time, both he and the others flew up from the hollow.
Then the fox jumped down in their place, bit at the jar, and pulled at
the lock--but he couldn't open it either.
"Can you make out what there is in it?" said Wind-Rush. The fox rolled
the jar back and forth, and listened attentively. "It must be silver
money," said he.
This was more than the crows had expected. "Do you think it can be
silver?" said they, and their eyes were ready to pop out of their heads
with greed; for remarkable as it may sound, there is nothing in the
world which crows love as much as silver money.
"Hear how it rattles!" said the fox and rolled the crock around once
more. "Only I can't understand how we shall get at it." "That will
surely be impossible," said the crows. The fox stood and rubbed his head
against his left leg, and pondered. Now perhaps he might succeed, with
the help of the crows, in becoming master of that little imp who always
eluded him.
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